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 LIFE AND LETTERS 
 
 DEAN HOOK 
 
 • • ■ ••
 
 LONDON : I'RINTED BV 
 
 SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE 
 
 AND PARLIAMENT STREET
 
 THE 
 
 LIFE AND LETTERS 
 
 OF 
 
 WALTER FARQUHAR JHOOK 
 
 D.D., F.R.S. 
 
 BY 
 HIS SON-IN-LAW 
 
 W. R. W. STEPHENS 
 
 PREBENDARY OF CHICHESTER AND RECTOR OF WOOLBEDING 
 AUTHOR OF 'life OF S. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM ' 'CHRISTIANITY AND ISLAM' ETC 
 
 SIXTH EDITION 
 
 LONDON 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, NEW BURLINGTON STREET 
 
 ^nblis^ers in ®ibin2irj2 to ^tr ^Hjtetg t^e C^uceii 
 
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 p. V 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 THE NEW EDITION. 
 
 The object of this Edition is to bring the work within the reach 
 of many readers who were unable to purchase it in the larger 
 and more expensive shape in which it first appeared two years 
 ago. 
 
 A few letters have necessarily been omitted, and the 
 narrative, although substantially unaltered, has been in parts 
 condensed. On the other hand, two interesting events, 
 omitted in former editions, have been recorded in the present 
 volume. Of these the first (which is mentioned on p. 528) 
 was Dr. Hook's generous support of the Rev. F. Maurice, on 
 an occasion when Mr. Maurice was subjected, as he thought, 
 to an unjust and narrow-minded attack. The information 
 concerning this incident has been very kindly supplied to me 
 by the Rev. Francis Garden, Subdean of Her Majesty's Chapels 
 Royal. The second incident (recorded on p. 593), for the 
 materials of which I am indebted to Dr. Liddon, Canon of 
 St. Paul's, was the renewal of correspondence between Dr. Hook 
 and Dr. Pusey, after it had been long suspended. 
 
 a84<)<Ki
 
 vi Preface. 
 
 One or two fresh anecdotes also have been introduced, and 
 a few slight errors, which were overlooked in former editions, 
 have been corrected. 
 
 The letter containing Lord Hatherley's reminiscences of 
 his friend has been placed at the end of the volume instead of 
 in the position which it formerly occupied between Chapters 
 V. and VI. This alteration has been made solely with a view 
 to symmetry, and by no means as implying that the letter itself 
 is of secondary importance, for most readers will probably agree 
 in thinking it the most valuable and interesting contribution in 
 the whole book. 
 
 WOOLBEDING RECTORY : St. Lukc's Day, iSSo.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 One of the earliest recollections of my childhood is concerned 
 with the subject of this Memoir. When I was about five years 
 old, I accompanied my father and mother to London, on a 
 visit to my uncle, then Mr. William Page Wood. As we were 
 going upstairs on our arrival, my eye was caught by an oil por- 
 trait of a man with red hair and a large mouth, which hung over 
 the door of the drawing-room, and I exclaimed, ' I don't think 
 he's a pretty man.' The justice of the criticism was not denied. 
 INIy mother allowed that he was not 'pretty,' but informed me 
 that he was very good, and, moreover, that he was my uncle's 
 greatest friend. And from that time forward, I became very 
 curious about 'the good man,' as I was taught to call him. 
 
 That portrait" on the staircase was one of the things I looked 
 forward to seeing on our annual visits to London. I looked at 
 it with increasing interest year by year, as I gradually heard 
 and better understood who the subject of the portrait was ; how 
 he was Vicar of a very large and very smoky town, far away in 
 the north ; how he had built a great church there, what thou- 
 sands of people flocked to it, what beautiful music was sung 
 there, what eloquent sermons he preached, and how deeply he 
 was beloved by the people ; and then, again, how full of mirth 
 he was, what funny letters he wrote, and what droll things he
 
 v^iii Preface. 
 
 said and did. And on further acquaintance with the portrait, I 
 could see there was a sparkle in the eyes, and a bright honest 
 smile playing about the whole countenance, which largely com- 
 pensated for the plainness of the features ; and I almost felt 
 remorse for having ever ventured to say that the person depicted 
 was not a 'pretty man.' 
 
 The interest which I thus learned to take from childhood 
 in the life of the Vicar of Leeds must be offered as my prin- 
 cipal apology for attempting to tell the story of that life. During 
 my boyhood, indeed, and early youth, when he was in the 
 plenitude of his strength and full tide of his work, I very rarely 
 JAW him, but I constantly heard about him ; and when in his 
 old age I became connected with him through my marriage, 
 and resided near him, he often talked to me like a veteran 
 soldier of his old campaigns, and thus filled up and coloured 
 for me in a great measure that picture of his life which the 
 descriptions of others had already drawn in outline. It may 
 seem to be a disadvantage, on the one hand, that a biographer 
 should not personally have witnessed the work of his subject, 
 but on the other, he may be able to write the history of past 
 conflicts and controversies more dispassionately and calmly 
 than one who has lived in the midst of them and has actually 
 taken part in them. At the same time, no one can be more 
 deeply sensible than I am how exceedingly difficult it is to put 
 together a faithful narrative of a life passed in times which are, 
 for the most part, too distant for the writer to draw much on his 
 own recollections, and yet too recent to be studied in the pages 
 of history. Not that I have endeavoured to write what is com- 
 monly called a ' Life and Times,' a combination which generally 
 results in doing justice to neither the life nor the times. My 
 aim has been to write the life of the man, to make him the 
 central figure throughout, and to touch upon surrounding events
 
 Preface. ix 
 
 only in proportion as they concerned him, only in order to in- 
 dicate the exact position which he occupied relatively to them, 
 and to show how far he affected them, or how far he was af- 
 fected by them. As far as possible, I have made him speak for 
 himself, by his letters and diary, by extracts from his speeches 
 and published writings, and by such fragments of his conversation 
 as I or others could recollect. The difficulty of selecting and 
 arranging copious materials of this kind, covering a period of 
 more than half a century, can hardly be conceived by any but 
 those who have made a similar attempt ; and some indulgence 
 is due, from which I hope not to be exempted, for defects in 
 the execution of such a task. 
 
 To those who have aided me in it, and without whose aid it 
 could not have been accomplished with that measure of com- 
 pleteness to which I trust it may pretend, I beg here most grate- 
 fully to acknowledge my obligations. 
 
 Foremost amongst these must be placed my uncle. Lord 
 Hatherley, and my wife's aunt. Miss Hook. They not only sup- 
 plied me wath a vast quantity of valuable letters, but their full 
 and exact reminiscences of distant events have been an unfail- 
 ing source of trustworthy information. Besides the letter 
 embodying his reminiscences, which Lord Hatherley has been 
 good enough to write expressly for this Memoir, I have inserted 
 a few letters addressed by him to his friend betw^een the years 
 1830 and 1834, not only on account of their intrinsic excel- 
 lence, but as illustrating the variety of subjects on which the 
 two friends corresponded. 
 
 I must thank the Rector of Whippingham, the Rev. Canon 
 Prothero, for endeavouring to glean some local information 
 relating to the time when Dr. Hook was curate of that parish. 
 
 To the Vicar of Holy Trinity, Coventry, the Rev. F. M. 
 Beaumont, I am much indebted for introducing me to some of
 
 X Preface. 
 
 the old inhabitants of that city, more especially W. Odell, Esq., 
 and Luke Dresser, Esq., whose communications have been ex- 
 ceedingly useful. 
 
 In Leeds my thanks are very particularly due to the Rev. 
 E. Jackson, Incumbent of St. James's and Honorary Canon of 
 Ripon, whose recollections, as the intimate and confidential 
 friend of the Vicar during the period of his greatest activity, 
 have been especially valuable to me. 
 
 My thanks are also due to the present Vicar of Leeds, to 
 T. Pridgin Teale, Esq., M.D., to G. B. Nelson, Esq., and others, 
 and, last but not least, to Mr. Edwin Moore, Registrar of the 
 parish church, who rendered me immense aid in the toilsome 
 work of searching out notices bearing on my subject, contained 
 in the local contemporary journals. 
 
 In conclusion, I beg to thank collectively the large number 
 of persons who have placed letters at my disposal, many of 
 which are regarded by the possessors as very precious treasures. 
 One word of caution may here be given to the readers of these 
 letters. They must bear in mind that the writer was a man of 
 very strong feelings and impulses. He wrote, and especially to . 
 the great friend of his life, in the most spontaneous manner, out 
 of a very full heart, about whatever was uppermost in his mind. 
 This, indeed, in a great measure constitutes their peculiar 
 charm ; that they are the freshest and most artless expressions 
 possible of the writer's thoughts and feelings at the moment 
 when they were dashed off ; but for the same reason they must 
 not always be taken as representing the deliberate and final con- 
 clusions of his mind upon the matters of which they treat. 
 
 The life which it has fallen to my lot to portray was a 
 singularly noble life. I would fain hope that not a few of those 
 who shall read the record may be stirred up by the perusal to 
 emulate the life. 
 
 WooLBEDiNU Rectory: September z-j , 1S78.
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
 CUATTER PAGE 
 
 I. Early Life and Education, a.d. 1798-1S21 . . i 
 
 II. Ordination.' Life at Whippingham. a.d. 1821- 
 
 1826 38 
 
 III. Life at Moseley and Birmingham, a.d. 1826-1829 . 82 
 
 IV. State of the Church — Rise of the ' Tractarian ' 
 
 School — Life at Coventry, a.d. 1829-1837 . . 98 
 
 V. The Election to the Vicarage of Leeds, 1837 . . 193 
 
 VI. Settlement at Leeds. July to December 1837 . 220 
 
 VII. Part I. Public Life from 1838 to 1840 . . . 246 
 Part II. Parochial Work and Correspondence. 
 1838-1840 274 
 
 VIII. Life and Correspondence. 1841-1843 . . . 309 
 
 IX. Life and Correspondence from 1844 to 1849 — The 
 Leeds Vicarage Act — Letter to the Bishop of 
 St. David's on Popular Education — Troubles in 
 connexion with St. Saviour's Church . . . 376 
 
 X. The Last Nine Years at Leeds, 1850 to 1859 . . 438 
 
 XI. Departure from Leeds— Life at Chichester from 
 
 1859 to 1867 512 
 
 XII. The Last Days at Chichester, 1868 to 1875— Anec- 
 dotes— Correspondence .... . 554
 
 Erratum. 
 ■'age 76, line 10 from top, yi;r rich read %\<:^!..
 
 LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 WALTER FARQUHAR HOOK. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 EARLY LIFE AND EDUCATION. 
 A.D. 1798-1821. 
 
 Walter Farquhar Hook was the eldest child of the Rev. 
 James Hook and Anne his wife, and was born on March 13, 
 1798, at the residence, in Conduit Street, London, of his 
 maternal grandfather. Sir Walter Farquhar, Bart. He was eleven 
 months older than his only brother Robert, who died in 1873, 
 Their only sister, Georgiana, who was several years younger, 
 has survived both her brothers. 
 
 His paternal grandfather, Mr. James Hook, who was a com- 
 poser and teacher of music at Norwich, married Miss Madden, 
 a lady no less remarkable for sound sense and goodness than 
 for her skill in painting. Out of a numerous family by this 
 marriage, only two sons lived to manhood — James, who was 
 born in June 1771, and Theodore, who was seventeen years 
 younger than his brother. 
 
 James inherited the talents of his father and mother, and 
 added to them very considerable literary powers of his own. It 
 was truly remarked by one of his friends that had he given his 
 
 B 
 /
 
 2 Life of Walter Farqtthar Hook. 1798- 
 
 whole mind to painting, music, or literature, he would have 
 achieved a high reputation in either of the three professions. 
 His two novels, indeed, ' Pen Owen ' and ' Percy Mallory,' entitle 
 him to a high place among the writers of fiction. Some of his 
 juvenile sketches were shown by his mother to Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds, who was so much struck by the genius of the young 
 artist that he strongly recommended the boy's parents to have 
 him trained for a painter. A series of caricatures of the leading 
 public men of the day, statesmen, lawyers, actors, and divines, 
 drawn and coloured when he was a schoolboy at Westminster, 
 aged fifteen, remains in possession of the family. They are 
 inimitably good, not being in the least overdone, though full of 
 humour ; and their value as portraits, sketched from the life, of 
 such men as Pitt, Fox, Burke, Lord Thurlow, Boswell, Kemble, 
 Munden, and many more, has been pronounced by connois- 
 seurs to be very high indeed. 
 
 In music he had the same aptitude as his brother Theodore 
 for playing impromptu on the piano, and was superior to him in 
 execution and general knowledge of the art ; but although a 
 ready versifier he did not improvise verses to his own accom- 
 paniments, the accomplishment for which Theodore earned such 
 a remarkable reputation. His artistic tastes, in fact, were rather 
 discouraged by his mother, who feared that they might dissipate 
 his mind and allure it from the higher pursuits for which his 
 more solid abilities, as she thought, fitted him. 
 
 In the latter part of the last century Westminster and Eton 
 were the two great rival schools of England, and a brisk fire of 
 epigram and satire was continually going on between the two 
 through their magazines, the Etonian ' Microcosm ' and the 
 Westminster "Trifler.' Hook was the artist of the ' Trifler,' 
 and one of his drawings represented the boys of the two schools 
 as being weighed by Justice in a pair of scales. The Etonians 
 it is needless to say, were high in air, although George III. and 
 other weighty personages were trying to depress their scale ; the 
 Westmonasterians, on the other hand, touched the ground. This 
 affront was retaliated by an epigram in the ' Microcosm ' from 
 George Cannmg, then an Eton boy :
 
 -iS2i His Father. 3 
 
 What mean ye by this print so rare 
 
 Ye wits, of Eton jealous, 
 But that we soar aloft in air 
 
 While ye are heavy fellows ? 
 
 Eut his antagonist was as ready with his pen as with his pencil, 
 and retorted in the ' Trifler ' in a similar strain : 
 
 Cease, ye Etonians, and no more 
 
 With rival wits contend : 
 Feathers we know, will float in air, 
 
 And bubbles will ascend. 
 
 During some of his holidays Hook wrote the libretto for 
 two of his father's operas, which were brought out in London. 
 But notwithstanding his inclination for artistic and literary occu- 
 pation, his mother, who was anxious that he should enter Holy 
 Orders, carried her point ; and after taking his degree from St. 
 Mary Hall, Oxford, he was ordained Deacon by the Bishop of 
 Sodor and Man in 1796, and he married in the following year. 
 
 Those were the days when pluralists flourished and abounded, 
 and through the interest mainly of his father-in-law. Sir Walter 
 Farquhar, who was the confidential friend as well as the physi- 
 cian of the Prince of AVales, preferments were heaped upon Mr. 
 Hook in rapid succession. He became Rector of Sadington in 
 1797, Chaplain to the Prince of Wales in 1801, Rector of Ep- 
 worth in 1802, of Hertingfordbury in 1804, and of St. Andrew 
 and St. Nicholas, Hertford, in 1805. 
 
 The early childhood of Walter Farquhar Hook w^as spent at 
 the Rectory of Hertingfordbury, and to this, the home of his 
 earliest recollections, he evej looked back with the fondest 
 affection. A very few years before his death he made a journey 
 with his youngest son expressly to see it ; to pace once more 
 the pleasant lawn and garden, and to see if the names were still 
 legible which in his boyhood he had carved upon some of the 
 trees that shaded the path by the river side — the names of himself 
 and of his friend William Page Wood, together with the names of 
 Shakspeare and Milton, whom they both loved with a jjassionate 
 devotion. 
 
 While the sensitive tenderness and affcciionatencss of his
 
 4 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1798- 
 
 nature was inherited from both his parents, the vein of comic 
 humour which equally distinguished him, and which sometimes 
 burst forth into rhyme or frolicsome mirth, after the manner 
 of his uncle Theodore, was derived from his father. On the 
 other hand, like so many men who have been good as well as 
 great, he thankfully acknowledged that whatever moral virtue he 
 had was largely due to the careful training in early life of a pious 
 mother. 
 
 How much (he writes in 1829), my dearest mother, do I owe to 
 you. How often do I trace all that is good in me to the blessing 
 of the Holy Spirit upon your labours, when in my grandfather's 
 bedroom you used to inculcate so pleasantly the truths of Revela- 
 tion into the hearts of dear Bobby and myself ; those dear square, 
 red books of Mrs. Trimmer out of which you read to us — how well 
 I remember them, and how I wish I still possessed them ! 
 
 The two brothers, Walter and Robert, learned all the rudi- 
 ments of knowledge, including Latin, from their mother till they 
 were about eight or nine years of age. A summary of their 
 progress and remarks upon their character which she wrote, 
 seemingly for her own private use, at the beginnings of the 
 years 1805 and 1806, are striking proofs of the truth of the 
 saying, ' the child is father to the man.' Walter is described as 
 being very fond of reading, inquisitive, and anxious to have 
 everything explained ; persevering, and resolute in conquering 
 difficulties, with a strong idea of principle, and a warmth of 
 reUgious feeling rare in so young a child. His principal defects 
 are said to be a shy and awkward manner, and an impulsive 
 and irritable temper, easily exasperated by opposition, coupled, 
 however, with a keen sense of remorse. On the whole, his 
 mother considered that his character was one which required 
 moderate, judicious encouragement, but was unable to bear 
 much praise. Those who knew him best will easily recognise 
 in this description some of the qualities which were most con- 
 spicuous in him throughout life. 
 
 When he was about nine years old he was sent with his 
 brother to a school at Hertford, kept by Dr. Luscombe, and 
 from this school he writes to his mother in February 18 10 a
 
 -i82i Tiverton School. 
 
 letter which is the earliest piece of his writing that I have 
 discovered : 
 
 Dearest Mother, — I wish June was come, and I had to tell you 
 that I was in the Fourth Form. I am very sorry that I am not in 
 the Third Form, but you know I tried verj', very hard. It is an ill 
 reward for my fagging ; but it is the will of God that I should not 
 go into the Third Form, and the will of God must be done. 
 
 Soon after this the two brothers were removed to Tiverton, 
 in Devonshire. Their recollections of this school were not 
 pleasant. The teaching was indifferent, the discipline severe, 
 and the food scanty. They saved up their spare pence to buy 
 buns and loaves to alleviate the pangs of hunger. In the letters, 
 however, ^\Titten by Walter at this time there are no complaints ; 
 and in his hand^mting there is \^ry great improvement. The 
 style of his letters becomes curiously grand and sententious ; 
 but they are wTitten then, as ever after, in pure, sound English. 
 In one too long for transcription, bearing date November i, 1811, 
 he begins : — ' My dear Mamma, — You will with me pity that 
 wicked boy, Henry George Salter, who is now publicly expelled 
 from this school : and his master, Master Richards, blotted his 
 name from the Register, October 30, 181 1, that it may be handed 
 down to generations.' Then follows an account of how this 
 ' wicked boy ' enticed another to run away with him, having 
 borrowed a watch which he afterwards sold, saying they would 
 go to London, where he would persuade his grandmother to 
 leave him her immense fortune, which he would divide with his 
 companion. The runaways were captured, and Salter wrote a 
 contrite letter, upon which young Walter observes, ' Well, so far 
 one would think him to be penitent Salter, but / say Salter the 
 hypocrite' ; and he then goes on to relate how this naughty 
 boy repeated the escapade, borrowing and selling another watch, 
 after which he was expelled in the awful manner described at 
 the beginning of the letter. 
 
 In 181 2, the year after this tragical occurrence, the brothers 
 were removed to ' Commoners,' Winchester. Their father had 
 become a Canon of Winchester, and this circumstance probably 
 led to the selection of the school. The narrative of Lord
 
 6 Life of Walter Fa7^q7thar Hook. 1798- 
 
 Hatherley ^ placed at the end of this volume, and the letters- 
 which I have added, render it unnecessary for me to trace at 
 length Hook's school career, and I shall confine myself to 
 some general remarks upon his character and conduct at this 
 period. 
 
 In the first place, having been ill taught at Tiverton, he was 
 very backward in scholarship, which at that time was th^ 
 beginning and ending of education at a public school. At the 
 instigation and with the help of his friend, William Page Wood, 
 as will be seen, he ultimately obtained a fair position in the 
 school ; but it may be doubted whether under the most favour- 
 able circumstances he would ever have made a finished scholar. 
 His mind was not of that order which delights in the study 
 and criticism of verbal niceties. He always read books for 
 instruction or pleasure, and if he got this from them he cared 
 little about the mould in which the contents were cast. Lively, 
 ready, and original, too, as he was in \\Titing and conversation, 
 he was always rather slow of apprehension ; he had great 
 difficulty in committing to memory, nor was his memory very 
 retentive. He was never a rapid reader, and those who read 
 aloud to him — a luxury of which he was very fond in later life — 
 were always required to read very slowly, and sometimes to 
 repeat a passage, not seemingly obscure, several times before 
 he could take it in. 
 
 On the other hand, even when he came to Winchester, his 
 delight in reading the best English poets and historians, and the 
 extent of his acquaintance with them, were very uncommon 
 for a boy of fourteen. His admiration for Shakspeare and 
 Milton grew into a passionate enthusiasm, for which it would 
 be hard to find anything like a parallel. Scarcely any letter 
 written during his school or college days is without some 
 reference to or quotation from these favourites. To read them 
 he neglected his school work, and withdrew from the ordinary 
 sports of his schoolfellows. He complains in one of his letters, 
 September 18 13, that the racket and bullying out of school are 
 so great that he can get no time to pursue his favourite studies 
 
 ' Formerly William Page Wood.
 
 - 1 8 2 1 Winchcstci" 
 
 and meditations ; that he has discovered a new hiding-place, a 
 hollow space about six feet deep, enclosed by stacks of timber, 
 on a wharf, into which he retreats to read, but that, like all the 
 rest of his haunts, he fears it will soon be detected. Probably 
 it was for the same purpose of undisturbed reading that he 
 chose to 'take a tunding,' that is, a severe thrashing, twice, 
 jgther than fag at cricket. It will readily be supposed that to 
 a boy so averse alike from the ordinary work and pastimes of 
 the place, school life was anything but a time of enjoyment. 
 In fact he often said that but for his friendship with Wood it 
 would have been insupportable. His lamentations are poured 
 forth in letters which are at times really pathetic, but more com- 
 monly ludicrous, from the incongruity between the tragic tone of 
 despair in which they are written and the actual circumstances 
 of the case. 
 
 In October 1813 he writes to his brother, who for some 
 cause was absent from school : 
 
 I hate this place more and more every day. I was licked 
 yesterday more severely than ever before. I cannot run or hollow 
 out loud even now without hurting my side, and I am to be licked 
 again to-day for writing this : yet I should not be able to write at 
 another time, as I go ' at top of hall ' ^ and get so much to do. I 
 begin to fear my licking. If I am killed, which I think I shall be, 
 tell Etheridge ^ to send you my books, and hope that I am in 
 heaven happier than all of you ; if for my sins I am condemned to 
 hell, pity me, dear Robert, pity me.^ Let iNIilton be buried with 
 me, as he has gone through all my hardships with me. 
 
 Writing a year later he says that though he still hates the 
 place, he is not so rebellious as he used to be, and regards his 
 prison house from a more philosophical point of view. ' I 
 endeavour to find out the comforts, if any there be, and not 
 the miseries of this place ; for as my dear and beloved bard, the 
 honour of England and of the whole of this terrestrial orb, says, 
 
 ' A technical Winchester phrase, signifying that the boy so placed was 
 liable to answer any demand for fagging. 
 
 2 The school butler. 
 
 •* How Robert was to know whether he was condemned to hell or not does 
 not appear.
 
 8 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1798- 
 
 *' the mind is its own place, and can make an Heaven of Hell, 
 an Hell of Heaven."' Combined with his love of reading in 
 retirement was a habit of meditation and reverie from which, 
 though in itself of rather a melancholy nature, he seems to have 
 derived a peculiar kind of enjoyment. Writing to his grand- 
 father. Sir Walter Farquhar, in 18 16, he says, ' I would have 
 you know that if you think nothing ill will turn out from this 
 melancholy I should still like to be possessed by it, as I am 
 exceedingly happy when I have it, owing to the amusing 
 thoughts which come into my mind at such times.' 
 
 His grandfather, indeed, who had w^on his way from obscurity 
 to the top of his profession by hard industry and talents of the 
 most practical order, although he had formed a high opinion of 
 the abilities of his grandson, was fearful of his becoming too 
 poetical and dreamy to make his way in the world. The follow- 
 ing letter, written a short time before that of his grandson's just 
 quoted, is a quaint illustration of this dread, and savours of 
 that shrewd worldly wisdom, frugality, and caution to which 
 he, in common with so many of his countrymen, mainly owed 
 his success in life. 
 
 Conduit Street : June 8, 1815. 
 
 My dear Walter, — Your passion and steady attachment for 
 Milton and Shakspeare I admire, but as I have not one single 
 particle of poetic fire in my mind, and never had, I am not a judge 
 of the justice of your adoration, and therefore you must forgive me 
 for not entering keenly into your indignation at your tutor's pre- 
 suming to correct Shakspeare. The word ' beteem ' I certainly 
 should not have understood without your explanation, and I should 
 have been considered a great blockhead by you enthusiasts, whom 
 I, on my part, a man of plain common sense, deem a little mad 
 when you get on your hobbies. However, I don't mean to stop you 
 full gallop. You may run on, and I will every year add to your 
 library books worth ten guineas, as I am pleased that you have 
 made so good an use of my first present. I therefore desire that 
 you will rummage your poetic and critical brain, and let me know 
 the authors that your next passion lead you to, and before 181 5 is 
 at an end I will furnish the next shelf in your library. Sometimes 
 I would wish you to descend from the flights of poetry, and study 
 those things that may be useful to you in life, and teach a poor
 
 Winchester. 
 
 man how to live comfortably upon little, and I shall therefore add 
 to the list you send me of books, Cocker's ' Arithmetic ' and 
 Euclid's ' Elements.' Spare half an hour now and then to look 
 into them. You have a first cousin, W. Mathison, who has shown 
 some talent for figures, mathematics, &c. I have consequently 
 made him a present of Euclid's ' Elements,' and if you get over 
 the fifth proposition, the Bridge of Asses, I shall conceive that with 
 your assiduity and application you may even become a mathema- 
 tician as well as a poet. My love to Robert. I don't know what 
 he has done with his ten guineas, and when he tells me this, I shall 
 then tell him what further I mean to do for him. I want to make 
 him a plodding Dutchman, by which means he may make fortune 
 enough to assist you and your family before you get rich in the 
 Church, or become a Bishop ; as a poet you will run the risk of 
 dying in a garret excepting you bestow a little time occasionally on 
 Cocker, and learn how to make a little money go far, and to 
 manage the sober, dull realities of life in place of being in the 
 poetical clouds for ever. 
 
 I have had a severe attack of cold and cough, and been confined 
 to my room, but I am now much better. I am not quite clear that 
 you would have had so long a letter if I had been able to trudge 
 about as usual. 
 
 I am, with great attachment, my dear boy, 
 Your affectionate Grandfather, 
 
 W. Farquhar. 
 
 There was not, however, in Walter Hook any of that sick- 
 liness and softness, either of body or mind, which is so com- 
 monly found in boys of a pensive, meditative disposition, who 
 have no relish for theordinary amusements of their companions. 
 Although tall, gaunt, and so old-looking for his age that one of 
 his school friends now living says that his face in mature man- 
 hood always seemed to him much the same as what it was in 
 boyhood, yet he was muscular and vigorous in no common 
 degree ; none could swim further or dive deeper ; and an 
 audacious bully who once dared to say in his presence that 
 Shakspeare was a fool, was instantly felled to the ground by the 
 fist of the muscular devotee. Some soldiers also on one occasion 
 having tried to usurp a bathing place belonging to the boys, he 
 was selected to fight one of the intruders, and made very short
 
 lO Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1798- 
 
 work of his antagonist. Few, if any, of the boys had such a 
 peculiar kind of droll humour, and to spend an evening with 
 Walter in the holidays was considered by his young cousins- 
 more amusing than a visit to the theatre. The matron who 
 took care of the boys' linen at Winchester was celebrated for 
 affecting knowledge on all conceivable subjects of inquiry, and 
 it was his delight to put such strange questions to her as would 
 elicit equally strange answers. 'Pray ma'am,' said he one day 
 to her with an air of exceeding solemnity, ' what is your 
 opinion of Charles XII. of Sweden?' 'Well, ]\Ir. Hook,' she 
 replied, ' I haven't been able to read the papers lately, and of 
 course I am not personally acquainted with him.' No one 
 watched with a keener vigilance for the extraordinary and 
 ludicrous blunders made by one of the old minor canons of the 
 Cathedral in his sermons. Two of these especially were never 
 forgotten, and were often repeated by him, or, as will be seen, 
 referred to in his letters : one of them was, ' What is im- 
 possible can never be, and very seldom comes to pass ' ; the 
 other, ' O tempora ! O mores ! what times we live in : little 
 girls and boys run about the streets cursing and swearing before 
 they can either walk or talk.' 
 
 Again, although his religious feelings, and his affection for 
 his relations and intimate friend are expressed in rapturous 
 language most uncommon in a schoolboy, yet there is nothing 
 unnatural, unhealthy, or effeminate to be detected in them. 
 They were the genuine offspring of a heart warm and tender, 
 yet manly and courageous. He was, in fact, in boyhood and 
 throughout life, eminently English and eminently Christian ; 
 qualities which in their highest manifestation are incompatible 
 with any tinge of morbid sentiment. And one of the reasons 
 why he regretted the rigid restriction of school work to the 
 study of Greek and Latin was that boys grew up knowing more 
 about Rome than England, more about Paganism than 
 Christianity. Not that he was narrow in his tastes ; he read 
 any history with great interest, and in good poetry he delighted 
 in any language in which he could read it \ but English history 
 and English writers had a charm for him which the history and
 
 Winchester. 1 1 
 
 the writers of other nations could not excite. Having been 
 brought up, too, in the strictest and straitest school of Toryism, 
 he fully believed that the British Constitution, alike in Church 
 and State, was the most perfect thing which could be found 
 under the sun, and in the beginning, at any rate, of his school 
 days he was prepared sturdily to uphold the virtue of the 
 Prince Regent and the wisdom of Lord Castlereagh against all 
 assailants. In like manner he would scarcely allow a blemish 
 in the moral beauty of Mr. Pitt, or a ray of light in the moral 
 blackness of Mr. Fox. In June 1816 he writes to his mother: 
 
 At a party at Mr. Rickett's, in the course of conversation Mr. 
 R. said that drinking was the chief thing which killed our great 
 statesman, Mr. Pitt. I thought at first he made a mistake, and 
 meant that fellow Fox, so I just asked him over again to see if he 
 really meant what he said, but afterwards I asked everj^one who 
 was present, when Mr. R. had left the room, not to mention what 
 had passed in Commoners, for it would cause much laughter against 
 me, as I always call Fox a ' drunken beast ' ; and now I mean to 
 ask you to petition grandpapa to dictate a few lines, as Pitt's doctor, 
 and send them to me stating what really did kill him. 
 
 Combined with his intense love and admiration for every- 
 thing English was a corresponding antipathy and contempt for 
 foreigners and foreign institutions. He was quite prepared to 
 accept the saying of old Meynell quoted by Sam Johnson, ' For 
 all I can see, foreigners are fools ; ' and he was fully persuaded 
 of the truth of the tradition handed down from the days of 
 Agincourt, that ' one Englishman was a match for fourteen 
 Frenchmen.' Of course his estimates of public men and 
 historical characters in many cases underwent great alterations 
 with his advance in age, study, and experience, but foreigners 
 as a class he always regarded with aversion ; and there was one 
 eminent person of whose character his opinion never changed, 
 and that was Napoleon Bonaparte. His only complaint, he 
 says in 1816, of Scott's 'Life of Napoleon,' was that he had 
 'profaned British paper with the name of ex-Emperor,' and to 
 the end of his life he never spoke of Napoleon by any other 
 name than Bonaparte, regarding him as an unprincipled
 
 12 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1798- 
 
 iyrant and a heartless ravager of the earth, colossal indeed 
 in intellect, but morally one of the meanest of mankind. 
 
 Although he did not obtain any classical prizes, except one 
 for getting into the Sixth Form by a special effort, the nature 
 of which is described in Lord Hatherley's narrative, he twice 
 gained the silver medal for recitation on the Speech Day. The 
 first was in 18 16, when he recited the celebrated speech of 
 Antony upon the death of Julius Csesar. His voice already 
 had much of that combined softness, flexibility, and rich 
 volume of tone, for which he was afterwards so remarkably 
 distinguished, and although he did not inherit any of his 
 father's or grandfather's musical talents, and could not tell one 
 tune from another, he was now as always very pure in his pro- 
 nunciation, and skilful in the modulation of his utterances. 
 His hearers on this occasion seem to have been completely 
 captivated. Canon Nott writes to his father : ' Your son's 
 speaking was admirable. It was neither acting nor declamation, 
 but a chaste medium between the two. He himself felt and 
 made others feel the beauties of his poet. You know the 
 speech : the gradual introduction of the sneer, ' For Brutus is 
 an honourable man,' was admirable. Had it been a sneer 
 from the first, it would not have been in nature. Antony did 
 not venture to insinuate anything against Brutus until he was 
 certain he should not offend, and this he could not have been 
 in the first instance.' He gained the medal also in the follow- 
 ing year for his recitation of Satan's speech to the Sun in 
 Milton's ' Paradise Lost. ' 
 
 The perseverance with which he worked for the special 
 ■examination already alluded to, in order to obtain his remove 
 into the Sixth Form, was the first indication of that energy and 
 industry in study which were afterwards so eminently charac- 
 teristic of him. He sometimes rose at three in the morning to 
 read his Greek play ; and Dr. Gabell told his parents that the 
 progress which he made while working for his remove was 
 beyond what he could have thought it possible for any boy to 
 make in the time. Having, moreover, once won his way to the 
 highest form, he showed much anxiety to keep his position
 
 -1 82 1 Leaves Winchester. 13. 
 
 with credit ; and the miscellaneous reading which had hindered 
 his rise in the school, where so much depended on technical 
 scholarship, now became an advantage and a help. 
 
 His mother writes of him at this period with mingled 
 anxiety and pride. His irritable, choleric temper, his fits of 
 melancholy, his tendency in many ways to impulsiveness and 
 eccentricity, caused her some uneasiness ; but on the other 
 hand, the warmth of his affection, his deep sense of religion^ 
 and the capacity which he had lately shown for working with 
 dogged resolution when once convinced that duty demanded it, 
 filled her with hope. Dr. Gabell also and all the masters spoke 
 of his general character and conduct in terms of the most un- 
 qualified praise, and even admiration. 
 
 It had been intended that he should leave Winchester at 
 the end of the year 18 16, but at the urgent recommendation of 
 Dr. Gabell, who thought that the delay would enable him to 
 enter upon his Oxford career with better prospects of success, 
 it was decided that he should remain another half-year. His 
 grandfather obtained a nomination for him from the Prince 
 Regent to a studentship at Christ Church, and in December 
 1817 he was admitted a member of that House. 
 
 Save for the parting with his deeply beloved friend, he 
 quitted Winchester without a pang of regret. But that parting 
 was a very severe trial to both. They had lived a life there 
 which was all their own ; a life bound by the closest ties, not 
 only of common interests, but of reciprocal obligations, for each 
 had helped to supply what was lacking in the other. And 
 though both felt sure that the friendship never could be broken, 
 yet frequent intercourse was now to cease, and, as it turned 
 out, for a much longer period than either could have forecast. 
 Their favourite walk in ' meads,' the old tree beneath which they 
 had compared their youthful attempts in poetry, and Hook had 
 read his tragedy of James IL, the chalkpit in which at 
 * Evening Hills ' they used to sit each with his Shakspeare and 
 read the dialogue by turns, the stroll home by 'Goddard's walk ' 
 — all these their daily haunts and occupations were to be 
 abandoned, and bitter was the grief
 
 14 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1798- 
 
 •novoi KoivM Aoyoji', 
 ofMocrreyos re /cat (TVi't(TTios /3tos, 
 vovs (Is iv afX(Poiv ov 5i;co, .... 
 8ie<rKe8aiTTaL navra, KiippnTTai ■)(^mai} 
 
 He began his residence at Oxford in Lent Term, 1818. A 
 letter from his grandfather written soon after cautions him 
 against allowing himself to be drawn into discussions about the 
 character of the Prince to whom he owed his studentship ; 
 advises him to keep a commonplace book, and to practise de- 
 clamation before a looking glass, that he may study grace of 
 action as well as eloquence in public speaking. Encouraged 
 by his grandson's success in recitations at Winchester, Sir 
 Walter Farquhar was at this time anxious that he should prepare 
 for the Bar ; and no doubt with this view the recommendation 
 to the rather clumsy youth to study gracefulness of action was 
 not undesirable. His awkwardness was no doubt increased at 
 this time by extreme shyness, of which the following letter, de- 
 scribing his first appearance as a Freshman in Hall, furnishes 
 an amusing specimen : 
 
 Christ Church, Oxon. 
 My dear Brother, — When you went away I called on Mr. 
 Goodenough ; but finding him out, I had an audience with Mrs. 
 Bright, who was bright as usual in her conversation, promised to 
 give me advice, and lend me ' Anacharsis,' &c. I then saw Mr. G., 
 but all the information that I could get from him was, that I was 
 to dine in Hall, go to Chapel, and hereafter write a Latin letter, all 
 which I knew before. About an hour after this, I was seized with a 
 violent fit of what we Wykehamists call 'funk,' occasioned (as 
 learned physicians tell me) by the prospect of dining in Hall ; the 
 symptoms at length began to grow alarming, for about one o'clock 
 I could not read, write, or think, save of going up into Hall. 
 About half-past, my memory began to fail, so much so that I 
 quite forgot whether the" dinner hour was a quarter to four or a 
 quarter after four ; so I went to dress. Somewhere about three 
 the bells began to ring for Cathedral, and as by this time I had 
 entirely lost my memorj', I began to fear that I must have made a 
 mistake, and taken four for three when I was told the hour. Con- 
 
 ^ Greg. Nazianz. De Vita Sua, vol. ii. p. 8, C.
 
 -i82i Oxford. 1 5 
 
 sequently, I sallied forth, cap and gown, &c. (Sic, when finding no 
 ■dinner, or thought of dinner, I retired again into my lurking hole, 
 peeping out of my bedroom window to see if I could see any men 
 going to dinner ; at a quarter to four I hurried out again ; no dinner 
 ready ; looked out of window for another half-hour ; quarter past 
 four sallied forth again, and in about five minutes walked ' with stately 
 pace and slow,' into Hall, astonishing the weak minds of the in- 
 habitants, who gazed with silent admiration on me, either captivated 
 by the brilliancy of my head or the beauty of my person. Mortal 
 dull at dinner. Nobody to talk to ; there were only two more 
 Commoners besides myself ; blushed, looked sheepish ; tried to 
 carve some \-eal for myself, failed ; at length pulled off some meat ; 
 blushed again, looked more sheepish than before ; took courage at 
 length, and called like a hero for some cheese ; looked for my cap, 
 could not find it ; at length the servant discovered it ; I marched 
 out of Hall, and here I am. This, my dear Bob, is all that I have 
 done to-day, which amounts to nothing. I am very dull indeed, I 
 should like never to speak to any one, as far as convenience goes, 
 for it would enable a man to study double tides ; but it seems so 
 horridly stupid, that I do not like it. I am rather grumpy, but I 
 wrote this in good spirits, having just performed a wonderful adven- 
 ture : but I am beginning to have a second attack, for how am I 
 to know where to sit in Chapel to-morrow, and various other 
 things. I wish very much that I knew somebody or other ; it 
 would be very convenient, to say the least of it, but ' nihil est ab 
 omni parte beatum,' and I am so delighted with my room that I 
 know not whether it does not make up for other inconveniences. 
 
 His life, indeed, at Oxford was more peculiar and isolated 
 than it had been at Winchester ; and of course there were more 
 opportunities for seclusion. He had no sympathy with the 
 ordinary course of study, and had no longer a friend at hand to 
 stimulate him in uncongenial work. He soon, therefore, aban- 
 doned all attempts to read for honours, and fell back with zest 
 upon the study of his favourite English authors, to whom he 
 now added Hooker and Jeremy Taylor. But his beloved 
 Shakspeare still reigned supreme in his affections ; and it is not 
 too much to say that the characters in Shakspeare's plays were 
 by far the most real companions and friends of his Oxford life. 
 With Newman he had little or no acquaintance. With Pusey
 
 1 6 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 1798- 
 
 he had some degree of intimacy, yet his name is very rarely 
 mentioned in his letters. Keble, who had taken his degree 
 eight years before, he beheld with a kind of distant reverence 
 and awe. The one unalterable friend to whom he turned for 
 sympathy in all moods, whether sad or gay, was his Shakspeare. 
 The following letters will forcibly illustrate this remark, which 
 indeed is corroborated by the countless allusions to the same 
 subject in his letters during this period. The first letter from 
 which an extract is here given, was written on hearing that his 
 grandfather was recovering from a serious illness : 
 
 . . . You cannot imagine how truly happy your kind letter 
 made me. It set me quite in spirits. The minute I opened the 
 letter and saw the news I pulled down my Shakspeare and had a 
 very merry' hour with Sir John Falstaff. I was determined to 
 laugh heartily all that day. 1 asked Sir John to wine with me. I 
 decantered a bottle of my beloved grandfather's best port, and 
 Sir John and I drank his health right merrily. Perhaps you will 
 want to know how my old friend Sir John drank my grandfather's 
 health. Why I took care to find out the place where he drinks 
 Justice Shallow's health. And so when I said ' Here's to Sir 
 Walter,' I looked on the book, and the knight said ' Health and 
 long life to him.' But perhaps you will think me a little cracked 
 for opening my ' oak ' to you, so I will talk more seriously. . . . 
 
 The next letter written to his father a month later, illustrates 
 yet more vividly the manner in which he peopled his solitude 
 with the characters of Shakspeare, so that never did anyone 
 more completely make good the saying,' Nunquam minus solus 
 quam ubi solus.' 
 
 Christ Church, Oxford : April 27, 1818. 
 
 Corckran has gone out sailing to-day with Mr. Barrington, a 
 son of Lord .Barrington, so that I stay at home ; for to tell you the 
 truth till Corckran comes, since Halliday left, I have taken no 
 walks in the day-time, for it is impossible to take a solitary walk, 
 as, in whatever direction you go, you must meet some man, and 
 therefore it looks so spoony to be by yourself, that I do not like to 
 walk out ; and I do not like to walk with any man I know here, for 
 with the exception of Buncombe, Sandford, and Napier, who per- 
 haps think the same of me as I do of my other acquaintance, the
 
 -1 82 1 Oxford. ly 
 
 men I know are such raffs in look and manner, that I do not like 
 to walk with them, lest I should be judged by my comrades. I 
 therefore go out at about eight o'clock, and run for about an hour 
 up and down Christ Church walk (not meads), which is always 
 deserted about that time, except once I met a man not of the 
 University there ; but I do not think exercise agrees with me, for 
 I had almost forgotten what a headache was till to-day, and yester- 
 day I walked about seven miles with Corckran, and am fit for 
 nothing but a long letter ; and yet I am as happy, if not more so 
 (one single thing would make me more so), than I have ever been, 
 except last summer. I have got into a very dissolute set of men, 
 but they are so pleasant that they make me very often idle, when 
 I otherwise should not be so. It consists of one Tuft, H.R.H. 
 Henry Prince of Wales, and a gentleman Commoner named Sir 
 John Falstaff, and a Mr. Poins, and we have several inferior 
 associates such as Bardolph and Pistol, and some others ; and 
 with these I spend most of my time : I breakfast with them, drink 
 tea, and sometimes wine with them ; of course they sit at a different 
 table from me at dinner. 
 
 Sir John, or as I call him (being great ' cons ' with him), Jack, 
 is very fond of a capon ; and I ' sported beaver ' the other day, and 
 went into the market to find one, but could not succeed. I have 
 likewise been made acquainted by Mr. Richardson of Edinburgh 
 with a Danish Prince, and I begin to think that I have mastered a 
 knowledge of his character, which is most amiable. However, it 
 is my intention to take all these to Whippingham, and there lea\e 
 them till I have taken my Degree, as they make me very idle. I 
 shall miss them much next term, for nobody at Oxford can suit me 
 like them. 
 
 The general charm of his letters at this period is that they 
 are not filled with the common gossip of an undergraduate 
 about Oxford work, Oxford politics, Oxford amusements, but 
 with subjects altogether peculiar to himself. 
 
 The characters in Shakspeare's plays being his most inti- 
 mate friends, he was naturally very jealous of Shakspeare's 
 honour, and watched with the keenest interest the manner in 
 which he was represented on the stage. A mutilated version of 
 'King Lear' which had lately appeared having come into 
 
 C
 
 1 8 Life of Walter Far quhar Hook. 1798- 
 
 his hands, he writes in a fury of indignation to his mother, 
 November 1818 : 
 
 It is the veriest trash I ever read. Had I time I could point out 
 lumdreds of absurdities in it. I could turn myself into a brute beast, 
 and gaze with pleasure at the men who pass off such stuff for our Shak- 
 spearc's, were they hanging on the next tree. This has plagued 
 me more than you can imagine : it has been in my thoughts day 
 and night since I first discovered it. I feel the pride of an English- 
 man in thinking that we can boast of Shakspeare, and consequently 
 I feel indignant and exasperated at seeing our Shakspeare altered 
 to the miserable taste of the French, who have no theatre of their 
 own, but only a corruption of the ancients. . . . This preys upon 
 my mind, and in good sooth makes me quite unhappy ; let us quit 
 the subject. 
 
 The event, however, which most powerfully excited and 
 engrossed his mind during part of the year 1818, was the great 
 rebellion of the boys at Winchester, which led to the temporary 
 break up of the school. His interest was owing partly to the 
 peculiarity of the event itself, but more especially to the part 
 which his friend Wood played in it. I have selected the fol- 
 lowing letter out of many which he wrote upon the subject 
 because, taken together with the account given in Lord Hather- 
 ley's narrative, it forms an interesting original piece of evidence 
 respecting a very curious episode in the history of Wykeham's 
 great school. 
 
 Christ Church, Oxford : May 12, i8i8. 
 
 My dear Mother, . . . Grievance upon grievance irritated 
 them ; but the immediate cause was Gabell's threatening to expel 
 Porcher for setting watches to find out when he was approaching, 
 a custom handed down from our ancestors, and daily exercised 
 during the six years which I had the honour of spending at 
 Winchester. They tried remonstrance, which as usual only irri- 
 tated Gabell. The spirit had been long concealed in the school ; 
 this made it break out. Several patriotic songs were sung, and 
 thus the lion in each boy's soul having been roused, a rebellion 
 was openly proposed. Every single boy in Commoners assented. 
 
 A message was sent into College, and all except unanimously 
 
 agreed. This was on Wednesday ; it was proposed to be carried 
 into execution on Monday ; consequently deputies met, and every-
 
 -1 82 1 Rebellion at Winchester. 19 
 
 thing was privately agreed, and notice given for each boy to supply 
 himself with a small pickaxe and a large club ; but on Thurs- 
 day information was given that Wickham, the surgeon, knew of 
 the schemes, consequently open war commenced at a quarter to 
 four. Thursday evening every boy was armed with a club ; a 
 patriotic song was sung. Etheridge was seized, hcked, and the 
 keys of Commons taken from him ; the Commoners rushed into 
 College, took the porter and his keys, and locked the great gates 
 of the inner quadrangle. They closed them to all the masters 
 and everybody, except David Williams and his wife, who passed 
 immolested on condition that he would bring nobody else in with 
 him. A patriotic song was then sung, three cheers given, and 
 they fell to work with their pickaxes, and dug up the great stones 
 -of the quadrangle, took possession of the towers, carried their 
 stones to the top of them, and everything was prepared for a 
 general siege. The Warden's door was blocked up, and all his 
 windows broken. These proceedings went on admirably during 
 the night, and College was so admirably defended with such regu- 
 larity and order, that though Gabell, with John Williams as his 
 aide-de-camp, and some constables, made several attempts to 
 break into College, they were repulsed entirely. These particulars 
 I have from Wood's letter to me, and Deane's (who did not join) 
 to Heathcote. What happened in the intermediate time I have 
 not yet heard, as Wood had not time to write a long account. 
 All night those who were not on duty sat on the top of the different 
 towers of the Chapel and College, singing patriotic songs. On 
 Friday, Bernard, the brother of the Prebendary, came down to say 
 that the military was called out, and all afterwards found resisting 
 would be sent to prison. A conference was afterwards held with 
 Urquhart from one of the Warden's windows, the boys, except 
 those on duty, standing on the tower, in which he told them they 
 might go whithersoever they liked. Afterwards they made an 
 unfortunate sally, intending some of them to have a dinner at the 
 ' George,' and then return ; but they were met (notwithstanding 
 the promise of being unmolested) by a body of soldiers, by Mrs. 
 Heathcotc's house. A little skirmish ensued. Two or three who 
 had dirks rushed into the middle of the soldiers, and fought 
 as brave men should do ; they were, however, taken prisoners 
 and secured in the Cathedral. The rest were then put to flight. 
 They were persuaded to meet Gabell, who expelled a certain 
 number, and the rest (having bound themselves to be expelled if 
 
 c 2
 
 20 Life of Walter Fm^qiLhar Hook. 1798- 
 
 one was) likewise went ; but some were taken by the constables, 
 and some were persuaded to go back. However, the next day 
 most of them rushed up to the ' George,' where sixty of them dined, 
 and the rest went home. There are still between eighty and ninety 
 who cannot escape ; but who have broken eveiy window in Com- 
 moners, and refuse to go to chapel and school, who are only 
 watching for an opportunity to keep their oaths. If I had been 
 the leader, I should have managed better. There is a room in 
 College where the wills and deeds of College are kept ; having got 
 them once in their hands, they could have threatened to destroy 
 them, and made College listen to any conditions. A party of 
 Wykehamists met last night, and drank the health of the rebels 
 in three times three. 
 
 In another letter he writes that he was quite intoxicated 
 with joy at hearing of the rebellion. ' All yesterday I was in. 
 such a fever of delight that I have now no small headache. I 
 was running all over Oxford to get news, and then retailed them 
 with a little bragging to all the men of Eton and Westminster 
 that I know. The Etonians are full of admiration : the West- 
 minsters are thunderstruck. Winchester will noAV be looked upon 
 as the only school ; it beats every other school in everything, ex- 
 cept Westminster in rowing and Eton in putting on a neckcloth. ' 
 
 In the following year, 1819, we find him just after passing 
 his ' Little Go ' more averse than ever from classical studies, 
 more thoroughly -wedded to his own peculiar and secluded ways 
 of life. In a letter to his mother he declaims vehemently against 
 mere scholarship, and declares his conviction of his utter 
 inability ever to become a scholar in the technical sense. He 
 would have written before but he had been reading hard, and 
 his faculties and feeling seemed blunted by the labour. ' I 
 hate verbal critics,' he proceeds, 'even on Shakspeare, and 
 though they may be a useful, they seem to me to be a rather 
 despicable, set. I shall never become a scholar, my memory 
 is so wTetchedly bad and I am so deficient in the art of 
 acquiring the idiom of language ; these, together with an 
 inaccuracy as unaccountable as it seems incurable, and a slow- 
 ness almost inconceivable in reading, are powerful enemies, 
 and I am striving to conquer them, but hitherto in vain.' 
 
 The quaintness and oddity of his habits are indicated in the
 
 -1 82 1 Oxford. 21 
 
 following letter to his aunt Mrs. ]\Iathison, v/ritten in the same 
 year. There is a tone of philosophic irony also in his remarks 
 upon the ways of ordinary men as contrasted with his own 
 Avhich has a Shakspearian ring about it, and sounds like the 
 utterance of a disciple of the 'melancholy Jacques ' in ' As You 
 Like It.' 
 
 Christ Church, Oxford: 1819. 
 Not many years ago I thought when I arrived at the age of 
 twenty-one I should entirely put away childish things. But I 
 really find in myself no alteration from what I was twelve years 
 ago. I know nothing, even the most childish thing, in which I 
 used to delight and find amusement then, that I could not do just 
 the same now. And my mind is just as wandering and unsettled. 
 J\Iy ideas are more extensive, inasmuch as I know more ; but they 
 are cast in the same mould and run on the same subjects. I used 
 to find great pleasure in taking a stick and flogging trees as if they 
 were my schoolboys, and now I can find just as much pleasure in 
 taking a stick and fighting through a hedge as if it were an army 
 and I an Orlando ; and there is not one of the many games which 
 I used to invent for myself then that I could not enjoy equally now. 
 And when I reflect coolly upon these things, I think that half the 
 world, discovering the little things in which I can find amusement 
 (which Heaven forfend), would put me down as the most consum- 
 mate idiot and fool. And yet when, as I said before, I reflect 
 coolly on the matter, I think there is no more folly in them than 
 there is in the sports of hunting and shooting. I therefore think 
 * that all the world's a fool ; its actions show it. I thought so once, 
 but now I know it.' And I shall never look for wisdom in any 
 inan ; I shall only respect the man who has less folly than others. 
 
 He had to live frugally at Oxford, for his father, notwith- 
 standing his preferments, was a needy man. In the summer of 
 this year, however, just before the end of term, he had an extra 
 pound of pocket money sent him, and determined to spend 
 it in making a pilgrimage to Stratford-on-Avon. What the 
 delight of this visit was by anticipation the following letters 
 will most clearly show ; but I have not discovered any which 
 were written soon after it had been made. I only know that 
 in spite of the adverse circumstances mentioned in the second
 
 2 2 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1798- 
 
 letter, he did succeed in getting to Stratford ; and the trans- 
 ports of the enthusiast must be left to the imagination. 
 
 Oxford : June 1819. 
 
 My dear Mother, ... So Mrs. Siddons has been on the stage.. 
 How unlucky I am never to be able to see her. I, who feel a filial 
 affection for the stage, corrupted, depraved, and odious as it now 
 is, yet I cannot but feel more than ordinary interest in it, and still 
 hope that the time will come when the abominable, unconstitutional 
 monopoly of the two theatres will be done away with, and that all 
 theatrical talent will be employed in developing the beauties of the 
 real English drama ; and then Shakspeare will shine forth in all 
 his pristine glory. Indeed, it is not my least ambition to be able 
 some day or other to acquire money enough to become a manager 
 of some great theatre, as Sheridan was ; and I am vain enough to 
 think that it would be a national benefit if I were to be so, as I 
 should enter heart and soul into the cause, and that, not for the 
 sake of filthy lucre, but merely to improve the taste of my country 
 and enhance the glory of Shakspeare. On Friday week I start for 
 Stratford, God willing, and return to Oxford Monday, to Win- 
 chester Tuesday. I might go on Thursday to Stratford, but I shall 
 not, because I shall be more likely to meet an Oxford face on that 
 day, and I shall want to settle many things. I have calculated the 
 expenses on a liberal scale. It is more than I expected it would 
 be ; but thanks to the kindness of my friends I shall be able to 
 support it. 
 
 I shall not go to the ' White Lion,' which is a very excellent inn, 
 and that at which the jubilee was celebrated. The ' Shakspeare 
 Inn ' is about the third. I did think once of going to that, and may 
 now. But the house that Shakspeare was born in is divided into a 
 butcher's shop and the ' Swan,' a public-house. Now if this last 
 can give me only a clean bed, without bugs, which I hate, I mean 
 to go undoubtedly to that. The only objection is, that it may 
 make my friends think that they are justified in charging me with 
 going there from some foolish feeling ; whereas I merely go in a 
 quiet manner to look at the place, just as some people come to 
 lionise Oxford. Now, I mean to take with me a Dutch cheese, 
 which will save the expense of dinners ; for at breakfast I shall 
 have two eggs, and cut off a large slice of bread, which I shall eat 
 with my cheese, and my drink shall be the water of the Avon,, 
 w hich Shakspeare, I make no doubt, drank many a time before.
 
 -1 821 yo2irney to Stratford. 23 
 
 I do not suppose that I shall find all the pleasure which I expect. 
 In thinking of it even, I have been so pleased, till pleasure turned 
 to pain, and I ended with a headache. It is very foolish, but I 
 always anticipate pleasure in this manner. I cannot read properly 
 now from the very thoughts of it, and have not been able for a 
 fortnight. 
 
 He worried himself as people so commonly do in the pro- 
 spect of great pleasure by the dread of something occurring to 
 prevent or mar it. 'I am always thinking,' he writes, 'of the 
 many things which will happen to thwart me, and most of all 
 I fear bad weather. I am something like my mother, who is 
 angry at every fine day in town lest the weather should turn 
 out badly when she gets into the country. So I am terrified at 
 this most delightful summer weather.' Curiously enough his 
 forebodings of evil weather were verified, as the following dole- 
 ful letter proves. 
 
 yoKmey to Strafford-on-Avo7T. 
 
 Shipston : 1819. 
 
 My dear ^Mother, — Was ever anybody so unlucky.? but I am 
 not at Stratford. How do you think I intend spending my father's 
 pound ? Why, even by sporting myself a chaise to Stratford. I 
 started at twelve last night from Oxford, and arrived here at five. 
 As it began to rain prodigiously hard, and I was outside, as more- 
 over I like to be quite by myself on my entrance to Stratford, I 
 determined upon breakfasting here, ten miles from Stratford, and 
 proceeding per chaise ; still, however, this rain will continue pour- 
 ing. What shall I do ? I want not to enter Stratford till it is fine. 
 It is now one o'clock ; the rain has set in, and the provoking people 
 here will not even say a kind word about the weather. When I 
 ask them whether it will clear up, they with one voice answer, 
 ' that it looks black.' Just heard of a return chaise ; must start. 
 I almost believe that this weather, beginning the very day of my 
 intended excursion, is intended as a punishment for me, on account 
 of some crime I have committed, or else some demon is willing 
 to drive me mad with vexation. I have two days ; one of them 
 will, I hope, be fine. All my dreams have vanished with this, and 
 I never shall again trust to the prospect of delight in this world. I 
 knew it would be thus : I was sure of it. Well, all I can say is, 
 that if Shakspearc's spirit could govern the clouds, I think it would
 
 24 Life of Wa Iter Fa rquha r Hook. 1 798- 
 
 for me ; for I verily believe he has few more sincere admirers. 
 Still, however, I feel a glow at approaching his birthplace, and I 
 am as puffed with pride and vanity as I well can be. I despise 
 the whole world, and now I feel as if I were a being of superior 
 order. 
 
 In June 1S20 he had looked forward to meeting with his 
 great friend Mr. ^Vood, who had just returned to England 
 from a two years' residence at Geneva ; but his father was 
 averse to his meeting the son of a man who had so earnestly 
 advocated the cause of Queen Caroline, and in fact for a time 
 he forbade intercourse between them. His mother could not 
 directly oppose his father's commands, but seems to have done 
 her best to soften the severity of the trial to him. Of course 
 the enforced separation only added to the warmth of the 
 friendship, and the following letter shows that he was already 
 shaking off the thraldom of that political school in which he 
 had been brought up, and that even King George IV. was to 
 him no longer such an impeccable being as in the simplicity 
 of boyhood he had once believed him to be. 
 
 Christ Church, Oxford : June 15, 1820. 
 My dearest Mother, — I have to entreat your forgiveness, and 
 my father's, for not having viewed the subject, which I certainly 
 did not, in the same manner in which you have done ; and, though 
 with the deepest and most acute sorrow, I willingly give up that to 
 which for two long years Wood and myself have fondly looked : a 
 meeting in June. But, I wish you to understand, I give it up on 
 policy, not on principle ; for you tell me that I must not let my 
 feelings overcome my principles. But what are, and (I appeal to 
 you) ever have been, my principles ? Certainly to love my friend 
 ten thousand times better than my king : and a friend, too, whom 
 1 think to be one of the cleverest, I know to be one of the best, 
 and most pure in mind, of human beings, before a king of whose 
 purity and virtue (though I yield to no one in loyalty and gratitude 
 to him) I would not wish to speak. But I see thoroughly the 
 impolity of it, though it struck me not before ; and I yield to your 
 superior judgment without a murmur. I like consistency in 
 politics, as in ever}-thing else, and surely Alderman Wood may do 
 the same. For years he has supported the Queen : and although
 
 -1 82 1 F7Hendship versrts Politics. 25 
 
 lie may have given her bad advice, and we may lament it, we 
 surely are not called upon to abuse and insult him, as many papers 
 have most illiberally done. I am not his ad\'ocate, and I agree 
 not in his politics ; but as I abhor the Opposition when they charge 
 •every action of the Minister to corruption, so in common justice, I 
 blame his advocates, when they call that man a rascal, who (with 
 \'iews never proved to be wrong) acts injudiciously. I have long 
 determined never to meddle with politics and, by tying myself to a 
 party, barter my liberty. We live in dangerous times ; there are 
 revolutions all over the world, and doubtless England will suffer in 
 her turn. It will therefore be my object in life to be friends with 
 all — Tory, or ultra-Whig, or Radical. So may I live, in virtuous 
 ease, like Atticus of old ; and surely his life was happier than 
 Cicero's ; and, moreover, he had the privilege of dying in his bed, 
 while Cicero fell a victim to the prevailing party. 
 
 I am of that disposition that I cannot live happily without a 
 friend ; my chief discomfort here has been the want of the presence 
 of one. The society of many, I neither seek nor like ; but that of 
 one, who will be as devoted to me, as I to him, is the pleasure of 
 life, and such a friend, for nearly eight years, have I found in 
 W'ood. And thus, though I will submit to almost anything, I 
 cannot desert him who has ever been faithful to me, the only one 
 person (out of my family) whom in this world I have found so. I 
 know, my dear father and mother, you never would desire it, and 
 I freely confess I would much, much sooner see the King hurled 
 "headlong from his throne, which God forbid, than act in such a 
 manner. I willingly forego a long, long anticipated pleasure, on 
 policy not on principle. It is for this reason and this only, viz. 
 that he is my father's friend, that I like the King. If such had not 
 been the case, I should not much have admired his character. 
 
 It was very probably owing to the bitter disappointment 
 caused by the prohibition of this long desired meeting with his 
 friend, joined to his increasing repugnance to Oxford life and 
 .studies, that he conceived about this time the very singular pro- 
 ject of offering himself for the situation of second master in a 
 school at Enniskillen in Ireland, which he had seen advertised 
 as vacant. In a long letter to his parents he dilates on the 
 advantages of this scheme. The salary was 240/. a year, which 
 •would be wealth to him and would make him independent of
 
 26 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1798- 
 
 them ; then he should take a quiet curacy in addition, study the 
 habits of the Irish, become editor of some country journal and 
 raise the tone of the local press : he would have leisure for 
 I^ursuing his favourite studies, and executing his favourite 
 design of bringing out a new edition of the sonnets of Shak- 
 speare. In short, the unpleasant state of politics, and the 
 degenerate state of the theatre, which he considered the 
 disgrace of England at the present time, made him long to 
 escape into a serene atmosphere of reverie and study all his 
 own. I have not found any reply to this curious proposal or 
 any further allusion to it in his own letters ; yet he was clearly 
 very much in earnest about it at the moment. 
 
 The jealous anxiety with which he continued to watch the 
 condition of the stage lest injustice should be done to his 
 beloved Shakspeare, was intense. 'I am waiting,' he writes 
 (March 182 1), ' anxiously for the arrival of the newspapers to 
 learn how Richard III. succeeded last night. Upon this 
 depends everything to me. If the master spirits of a better 
 age are once more to tread our stage, England will gain more 
 true glory than she has done from all the victories of Welling- 
 ton ; but if she refuses them she will be a degraded nation and 
 a fit subject for the speculation of the Radicals.' 
 
 Next to Shakspeare there was no author whom he read at 
 that time with keener relish than Walter Scott. He writes in 
 several letters with enthusiasm of ' Kenilworth,' which had 
 recently come out. Pilgrimages were being daily made to 
 Cumnor from Oxford, and a subscription list had been set on 
 foot to present the landlord of the ' Sun ' with the sign of the 
 Bear and Ragged Staff. ' Undoubtedly,' he writes, ' " Kenil- 
 worth," is the finest poem of that " arch knave " and " mad wag " 
 Watty Scott, and I shall not grudge my seven and sixpence to 
 view the scene of Dudley's love and Amy's fate.' Besides the 
 study of his favourite theological writers, he also gave consider- 
 able time to English history. He begs his father to get some 
 copies of Malmesbury, Monmoutli, and other early chroniclers, 
 and declares that he will never again read the 'tasteless. 
 Elume.'
 
 -1 82 1 A Prize. 27 
 
 Greatly did he groan over the drudgery of reading for his 
 degree during the spring of 182 1 ; but that, to him, dreary 
 season was brightened by one briUiant gleam. He put into a 
 raffle for Boydell's illustrations of Shakspeare, and won it. His 
 raptures of joy must be given in his own words : 
 
 Christ Church, Oxford : April 1821. 
 
 My dearest Mother, — I have only one moment to tell you some 
 good news ; I am almost intoxicated with joy. There was a raffle 
 for Boydell's illustrations of Shakspeare, and though I could ill 
 afford my guinea, with an almost superstitious feeling I did put in, 
 and have just won ; it is most glorious ; if I believed in fairies, I 
 should swear that Oberon and Titania and Puck guided my hand 
 as I threw the dice. It is a glorious thing, bound in blue morocco ; 
 and if I had the text, it would be worth a hundred guineas. The 
 bookseller has offered me twelve for it, but considering the manner 
 I have won it, it would be sacrilege to part with it. You will 
 blame me for hazarding a guinea ; but since I have won, it does 
 not signify. When I can afford it, I shall have my Reid's Shak- 
 speare bound to match. I once thought of making my father a 
 present of it, because it seems too magnificent a book for me ; but 
 I cannot make up my mind to do it, because I am so desirous ot 
 having everything belonging to Shakspeare. I threw the dice with 
 so much confidence, I was actually superstitious about it, and I am 
 now quite drunk with joy, so that you must excuse more. With 
 most affectionate love to my dear father, to whom I cannot give 
 the book without he wants it very much. 
 
 In Easter Term, 1821, he went into the schools. He had 
 resolved to place himself in some way under the protection of 
 Shakspeare as his tutelary deity. He therefore took with him 
 a small head of the poet carved out of his mulberry tree — a 
 precious relic which he had brought from Stratford-on-Avon — 
 to hold in his hand during viva voce ; and in his paper-work he 
 adopted a singular device which the following letter will explain, 
 and which it appears had been a practice of old standing with 
 him. 
 
 Christ Church, Oxford : June 1821. 
 
 My dearest Mother, — I have only time to tell you that my cares 
 are at an end and, as you would say, my education finished. I
 
 28 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1798- 
 
 ■did not take up enough books for a class, I am afraid ; but I did 
 what I did take up better than I could have expected, and was 
 thanked and praised for my Divinity. 
 
 By-the-bye, I must tell you a circumstance which amused the 
 examining masters not a little. I have had a custom of writing the 
 name of W. Shakspeare on every paper which I think of impor- 
 tance, from ancient times. You see it written at the corner of this 
 sheet in very small letters, w>c»/„a . .^ i which very few people would 
 discover ; but it so happened that Mr. Cardwell, one of the ex- 
 amining masters, observed that this little Shakspeare was in all 
 my copies, and they called me up to know if 1 meant it as a 
 charm ; which I could not quite deny, and it afforded them great 
 amusement. This I have not told to any of my acquaintance 
 here, who would think me a bit of a fool for my pains ; but the 
 report about the University is, that I was cutting jokes with the 
 examining masters all the time. They, however, behaved very 
 good-naturedly to me, except this morning, when one of them, to 
 the great amusement of all the rest, made me prove the errors of 
 the Roman Catholics in worshipping relics, and the folly of the 
 Jews in wearing phylacteries ; the absurdity of superstition, and 
 inutility of charms, all of which subjects I knew pretty well ; and 
 this, with something about the doctrine of the Trinity, made up the 
 whole of my examination in Divinity. 
 
 Now I must beg you not to tell this to my friends in town, 
 but keep it to yourself, for some of them would think me an idiot ; 
 I am afraid it will soon spread over the University, for Cardwell 
 seemed to think it a very good joke, and will tell it, I make no 
 doubt. If so, I shall depart immediately from this place. It is 
 my intention to stay here ten or twelve days, since, to my deep and 
 unfeigned sorrow, I shall not be able to see dear Gilbert. I can 
 come up directly if you wish it, but I shall write fully to-morrow. 
 I shall not take my degree, I think, till just before the long vaca- 
 tion, when I shall return to Oxford. I am at this moment too 
 happy to write sense. I am afraid the examining masters will 
 think me a bit of a fool, but they showed that they thought it inno- 
 cent and laughable folly. I would not, however, have yesterday 
 over again, really, for a hundred pounds, poor though I am ; I never 
 was so miserable. 
 
 Classical honours he had neither desired nor sought. But 
 
 * Facsimile of tlie original ' W. Shakspeare.'
 
 -1 82 1 A Disappointment. 
 
 there was just one prize upon which he had set his heart : the 
 Newdigate prize for EngUsh verse, and he resolved to compete 
 for it. The subject for 182 1 was Paestum. 'With trembling 
 hands,' he AVTites, 'and a throbbing heart have I consigned the 
 child of my hopes to the Registrar.' He thought his good 
 fortune in winning the Boydell Shakspeare in the raffle a bad 
 omen ; it would be impossible to have another great piece of 
 luck in the same year. And his apprehensions were fulfilled. 
 His lines, which have come into my hands, are smooth, me- 
 lodious, and free from the insipidity of thought and turgidity of 
 language which are so common in Newdigate poems. But the 
 prize was gained by the Hon. Mr. Howard, afterwards Lord 
 Carlisle, who also carried off the prize for Latin verse in the 
 same year. 
 
 His failure to obtain this prize was perhaps the most poig- 
 nant disappointment of his life. At least there was none on 
 which he expressed his feelings at the time in such inconsolable 
 terms, although of course the trial could not have been a very 
 lasting one. ' With indescribable sorrow ' (thus he writes to his 
 father) ' I sit down to inform you that all my hopes of gaining 
 distinction at Oxford are now at an end ; I feel after all my 
 failures that I should like a little quiet and retirement. I 
 cannot pay my London visits.' And so he proposes to go to 
 \Vhippingham, of which his father was now rector. The sweet 
 air and scenery of the Isle of Wight would restore his spirits. ' I 
 cannot now look,' he proceeds, 'for distinction in life, but a 
 quiet and humble one is perhaps after all the happiest. I wish 
 you and my mother would decide for me what line I should 
 take, and I will endeavour — may God grant with success — to 
 perform its duties.' And in another letter, ' I long to escape 
 from this most odious place : I am disgusted with Oxford, and 
 my heart leaps with joy at the thought of quitting it, I might 
 almost say, for ever.'
 
 Life of Walter Faj^qiLhar Hook. 1798- 
 
 LETTERS FROM 1813-1821. 
 
 An Ideal Coiintiy Parsonage. 
 
 Winchester : November 7, 1813. 
 Dear Brother, ... I have only got to stay here two years 
 more, though two years is no short time ; then, I suppose, I shall 
 go to Oxford and, when I am twenty-three, be made a parson. I 
 do not intend to be minor canon, for when I get a living I must 
 still be minor canon ; but I intend to have a living just in such a 
 village as ' sweet Auburn ' was before it was deserted ; but instead 
 of ' passing rich with forty pounds a year,' I intend to have a 
 thousand ; and I shall divide it thus : three hundred for myself, 
 three hundred for the poor, and four hundred for books. I intend ' 
 to keep a horse, tax-cart, and donkey, one man servant, and one 
 maid servant. I intend to have a good library, and there shall be 
 one corner which I will call Poets' Corner ; and in my grounds I 
 intend there shall be a hill, and I shall build a sort of place like a 
 temple at the top, that I may sit and read at the top in summer. 
 I shall call it Mount Parnassus ; it shall be something like Grongar 
 Hill which Dyer so well describes. I shall have the busts of 
 Milton, Dryden, Pope, Young, and Thomson there. In the morn- 
 ing I shall get up at seven in summer, eight in winter, and take a 
 walk in the garden for half an hour ; come home to breakfast ; then 
 I shall go to visit my poor people, and at ten come home and 
 write some of my sermon ; at eleven go out riding, or driving 
 in my tax-cart ; at twelve take luncheon, and go to Parnassus till 
 two ; at three dine ; after dinner go to Parnassus, except in winter, 
 when I shall sit over the fire, with wine on the table, reading. At 
 eight I shall have prayers in my private chapel, when all those 
 poor people who come I shall put down in my pocket book to be 
 attended to. At nine I shall go to bed. My library will be open 
 to all poor people. I shall recommend Milton to them ; and I 
 shall build around me a large place like ' St. Cross' for poor people 
 who are too old to work. I shall be glad to see my dearest brother 
 Bob, mamma, papa, or any of my other good friends. I shall 
 always have a bed or two, not like Dr. Wavell's, but all well aired, 
 for my servants shall take it by turns to sleep in them. I shall 
 sport tolerable dinners ; I shall have apples, and grapes, and 
 all fruits, and gooseberiy wine and currant, and meat when my 
 friends come. I shall plant potatoes, and shall have a dog, a cat,
 
 Letters, 1813-1821. 
 
 some rabbits and tame pheasants, and shall feed all young birds 
 that choose to come. My sermons will be on an average about an 
 hour long, never more, but generally as long. I shall preach very 
 good sermons for the poor people, but not learned ones, as I do 
 not want to be more learned. I shall have a pair of cotton stock- 
 ings to go to dine with the squire or charity schoolmaster. I 
 shall have a new coat once in three years. I shall have one hat 
 and one pair of boots. My servant will have all my old clothes for 
 his livery. I shall have a bank at the church, and be the warden 
 to the charity school, which must attend my private chapel to 
 answer the responses. I shall have a hand organ, and the clerk 
 shall play it. I intend to have a river in my garden, and shall 
 have written in large letters on a bit of board, 'At Parnassus. But 
 mark what I areed thee, now avaunt ! ' That is to say, that no- 
 body must disturb me when in solitude at my Parnassus. I 
 shall keep wine to give to the poor people that are sick, and shall 
 always have plenty on table at dinner, though I shall never drink 
 more than a glass or two at the very most, for two reasons : one, 
 because it would not be right to drink more, and the other, because 
 it would be too expensive. I shall often go to the public-house to 
 see that nobody is getting drunk. My dog will dine with me, 
 except when I have company. Perhaps if it is not too expensive 
 I will keep a mastiff too, to guard the house, and a Newfoundland 
 I shall have little or nothing to be robbed of except my books, so 
 the mastiff will live in the library. I shall have no plate, but will 
 have pewter spoons; perhaps I may have a few plated ones, in 
 case I should have company. I shall write to my dear Robert, 
 and papa and mamma often. I shall always give the clerk a 
 Christmas-box, and they shall sing the Christmas carols from 
 Milton. I quite forget the beginning (you must remember) ; in 
 the middle there is, ' Thou sun, of this great world both eye and 
 soul ; ' and there is at the beginning, speaking of God, ' To us in- 
 visible or dimly seen in these Thy lower works, yet these declare 
 Thy goodness beyond thought and power divine.' 
 
 I shall have a moss house beside my river, and I intend that 
 there shall be trees about it, that my dear mamma may be able to 
 sit there when she comes. Dear Robert, you shall have the best 
 bedroom but one when you come to see me, because papa must 
 have the best. I shall introduce you to the schoolmaster and the 
 squire, and one or two of the farmers ; and if grandpapa will be so 
 kind as to come to see me, I daresay I shall be able to make up
 
 32 Life of Walter Farqtthar Hook. 1798- 
 
 a nibber of whist. Now, dear Robert, you see how I intend to 
 live. I shall wish you good-bye. Perhaps you may be Lord 
 Mayor some day or other ; but I hope never to be more than a 
 country parson. Give my best love to papa, mamma, and receive 
 the same from 
 
 Your very affectionate Brother. 
 
 A Schoolboys' Debate. 
 
 Winchester : May 2, 1816. 
 My dear Mother, . . . By-the-bye, I had an argument of aii 
 hour and a half's duration one day on politics : I and another of 
 our club were the only ones against five collegians, all Opposition. 
 They were veiy abusive of the Prince, whom we defended most 
 properly : we drew up the Opposition one side of the table, my 
 colleague and myself on the other ; we always, except once, called 
 each other honourable gentlemen, but in the heat of argument, I 
 could not help breaking through the rule, and saying the honour- 
 able blackguard opposite, which gave great offence, and was 
 thought very vulgar. We at first agreed to conduct our debates 
 as in the House of Commons, but I was the first who arose, and 
 tliey declared (though it did not seem so to me) that I spoke for 
 half an hour ; so they thought I should go on all night, and made 
 it fair that we might talk as we chose, which brought us down to 
 common argument. There were many boys standing round who 
 were very much amused with our earnestness, but particularly with 
 mine, for one of the fellows opposite asking. Can any one who 
 admires the ministers ever so much, say that the Prince is not a 
 fat, disgusting, and sinful, drunken beast ? I cried out so loud that 
 Mr. Williams, who was at the bottom of the school, sent for me for 
 making a noise, and I with difficulty got off an imposition. As we 
 went on, I asserted that he did not drink at all ; for grandpapa had 
 told me he did not ; but as I did not feel at liberty to mention his 
 name, my assertion went as nothing, and one member of the 
 Opposition bench quoted Bloomberg that he did drink manfully, 
 and does so still. Now will you ask grandpapa if I may use his 
 name next time we meet, which may be, by-the-bye, to-day in 
 school, as we have nothing to do at that time, but talk or read ;, 
 but I must tell you who I was compared to — no less than Mr. Pitt, 
 while my colleague was Mr. Canning. The leader of the party 
 was Mr. Fox, because, owing to the violence of his action, he broke 
 the boards of one of my friend's books. I would not trouble you
 
 -i82i Letters, i8i 3-182 1 
 
 with this, but that I want to get leave to quote grandpapa, if they 
 dare to touch on that head again. I was laughed at much, and it 
 put me in a great passion, for while I was praising my Lord 
 Castlereagh, one of the fellows asked me if I thought with papa on 
 the Catholic question, for they remember his sermon on that head, 
 I was glad to find ; I answered in the affirmative, and they 
 triumphed much, in saying that Lord Castlereagh did not. Will 
 you tell me how to defend the noble Lord ? . . . 
 
 To his Brother^ 1816 — Lord Chesterfield'' s Letters — The 
 ' Spectator ' — Sam yohnsoii — Poetical Justice. 
 
 My dear Robert, — You say you have of late been reading Lord 
 Chesterfield ; he is an author of whom I am enabled to judge only 
 by extracts that I have met by chance, and by quotations that I 
 have found from other authors, but from what I have seen, he is 
 very far from being a proper author for you to waste much time in 
 studying, far from it ; indeed, I should think that my mother 
 would have a very reasonable objection to your reading it, and if, 
 as you say, you have read it and cannot unread it, nevertheless, I 
 am far from wishing you to pay so much attention to it as will, and 
 must naturally, be the case in translating it from the French : he 
 seems a mean, worldly, despicable nobleman, and he seems to 
 instruct a person in a kind of egotism. N ow if I were to advise 
 you what to read, I should propose the ' Spectator ; ' that would 
 not only exercise you in French, but would likewise improve your 
 English style, for the style of the amiable Addison is truly divine, 
 and were the gods to talk English, it would without doubt be the 
 English of Addison ; you would by that be able to see the whims 
 and fancies and foibles of the last century, and see what we have 
 improved, what corrupted. You would be able when you read 
 Milton, to understand him, too, better by far after the annotations 
 of the amiable, learned, and unpedantic Addison, whom I like far 
 better than Sam Johnson, who, though he was of good men perhaps 
 the very best, cannot have so much said of him as a critic ; a sound 
 moralist he was, but far, very far, from being a good critic. You 
 have heard him extolled, so have I, not as the greatest moralist 
 and wisest of the men of England, but as a superior critic. I must 
 dissent from the general opinion, and as I write to you, I doubt 
 not but you will excuse a boy objecting to the opinions of the 
 
 ' Then in a house of business in Holland. 
 
 D
 
 34 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1798- 
 
 learned, but I have had a close intimacy with the Doctor, and tell 
 you that I think he is (and it is the greatest fault in a critic) most 
 partial ; witness the criticisms on Milton, Gray, and, on the other 
 hand, the unfortunate but unprincipled Savage. From his criti- 
 cisms on our greatest poets, he seems not to have been able Xo 
 feel any pleasure in the higher flights of poetry, and when he looks 
 at verses on lesser subjects, on love, &c.,he blames them for being 
 unnatural, if they happen to mention a heathen god, not perhaps 
 as a deity, but as a personification ; this he does with our poet 
 Hammond, who seems to be a very deserving bard, being the 
 only person who has succeeded in the way of Ovid and Tibullus. 
 But these are his lesser faults ; as a critic in the higher flights, he 
 was rigid, most rigid. If poor Horace was to have such a critic, 
 one might well cry, 'Alack, poor Horace!' He believed in the 
 divine right of kings — abominable ! but he insists on poetical 
 justice — worse and worse ! In dear Shakspeare's ' Lear,' he 
 quarrels with the 'Spectator,' who blames the alteration, and 
 making of the piece end happy. May I ask what can be more un- 
 natural and improbable than justice as administered in poetry ? 
 does the good man always go on well in this world ? would not 
 everj'thing then be good, and shall then the poet of nature forget 
 to be natural ? Heaven forbid ! if this should be debated in the 
 House of Commons, and my Lord Castlereagh — should even that 
 great, that wonderful man defend it with his Pitt-like eloquence, 1 
 would sit on the opposite benches. 
 
 Anxiety to hear from his Brother. 
 
 Winchester : May 12, 1816. 
 My dear Robert, — It is so long since any letter has been 
 received from you, that I cannot refrain from writing, if it is only to 
 ask and intreat you to write to us soon, to me, or to some other 
 branch of the family. Any letter received from you, or known by 
 me to have lately been received from you, would greatly ease my 
 heart, for I must own to you that I am most excessively uneasy 
 about you ; the length of time that has expired since you last 
 wrote is prodigious — write soon, I pray you— and your last letter 
 told us of your having an asthma, so that I think there is ample 
 room for my being uneasy about you. I hope to goodness that 
 before you read this I shall have heard from you, or of you, my 
 most darling brother. I did not intend writing to you before I
 
 -I82I 
 
 Letters, i8 13-1821. 
 
 heard of you, at first, but now I must write to beg you not to allow 
 us to be any more uneasy about you. To-day is a holiday, and I 
 have leave out to your friend, Mr. Woodbum, for papa and mamma 
 (' Alack the day ! ') are going from hence about the visitation 
 business ; you can easily guess how very and truly unpleasant it is 
 to me to lose their society. I should, I trust, be more happy than 
 I am to day, for I am at present in a low state, feeling veiy uncom- 
 fortable for more reasons than one, but what always comes topmost 
 to my soul is the anxiety I feel on your account, my dearest 
 Robert. I think it will do me good having leave out, it will raise 
 my spirits. I was forced to stop a moment, for names have been 
 just called in the hall to my great detriment, for my stupid fool of 
 a fag left my boiler in the way, and Gabell has taken it as usual ; 
 he took all my mess things away the other day, and now the 
 boilers, but I shall not lick Elliot (whom you remember), for he is 
 my fag. I should have been bankrupt had it not been for the 
 enormous goodness of my most beloved mother ; for she made me 
 a present of a pound when she went away, of which, when I pay for 
 this boiler, I shall have only six shillings left, and that I must pay 
 for a cheese, as I am ' in course ' with that to-night for the rest of 
 the half-year. It is really such nonsense of Gabell, allowing boys 
 to have things, and taking them away when he finds them ; but 
 don't mention this in your letters, for this one I mean to seal with 
 my own arms, which my most dearest mother has presented me 
 with. I have shown it to most fellows here, and they all admire it 
 so much, you cannot think, so that it won't be seen and read, for I 
 should not like them to know of my extravagance, and by the time 
 I want some more very urgently, I shall beg for an advance of my 
 holiday money, which mamma is always kind enough to give me. 
 You must mind to admire my seal, it is most beautiful, and the im- 
 pression is magnificent. 
 
 Would to heaven that the time was come when I am to see you, 
 dearest, most beloved Robert, again ; pray, pray write, I long so 
 much to hear from you, and tell me how your asthma is. If you 
 knew the agony of mind which I now feel on your account, my 
 sweet Robert, you would not delay an instant. You will think me 
 a fool, but you cannot do so more than I myself do, on that account, 
 but do what I will, the most horrid ideas haunt me in every place, 
 so that I may justly feel desirous of hearing of you or from you, 
 and that too, soon. Now I shall leave off writing. With my very 
 best love to you, and praying you to write soon, 
 
 D 2
 
 2)6 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1798- 
 
 I shall remain, most dear and darling Robert, upon my honour, 
 your most dotingly affectionate Brother. 
 
 Christ Church, Oxford : February 1821. 
 
 My dear Sister, — To so devoted an admirer of the fair sex, as 
 you know I am, and every true and loyal knight must needs be, 
 the letter of ' your naughtiness ' was of course most acceptable, but 
 I will confess that I shall find some difficulty in endeavouring to 
 answer it, since its subject was nearly uniform, and that subject 
 being my own praise, I am in modesty bound to be silent thereon. 
 I beg leave, however, to state that though you should certainly 
 have the most dutiful respect and veneration for the character of 
 your elder brother, yet there is no necessity to make it the subject 
 of your letters to him or of your conversations with anybody else, 
 so that, in future I shall hope to hear more of papa and mamma, 
 and less of myself; and indeed I shall have no very great objection 
 to hear something about yourself (though you are nobody), and to 
 know whether you are improving in your studies, and are more or 
 less naughty than you were a few weeks ago. You must beg 
 mamma to let you read the account of our good King's reception 
 at the theatres. I have just been reading it, and it has rejoiced me 
 so much that it has given me a headache, or I am not quite sure 
 that you would receive this letter. It was one of the most glorious 
 receptions, as represented in the new ' Times,' of which I have 
 read or heai'd. There are, however, one or two points that have 
 grieved me, but on which I will not dwell here. 
 
 You may nevertheless tell my father that the King of England 
 gave his royal sanction to, and manifested his royal approbation of 
 the vile interpolations which disfigure the 'Twelfth Night' as now 
 performed. 
 
 This is so unworthy George IV. that I quit the subject. I like 
 your idea of keeping my letters to show my grandchildren, they 
 win no doubt form a fine red-headed family ; and I hope that I 
 shall be able to exhort them to follow the good example of their 
 Aunt Georgiana. But if you are an old maid, I give you notice 
 beforehand, that I will not permit you to enter into my house, with 
 a whole aviaiy on your shoulders, and a pack of dogs of all sorts 
 and sizes at your heels. And now my dear Demoiselle, your true 
 faithful Sir Walter of the fiery plume has neither time nor inclina- 
 tion to write any more, but having assured you how highly I
 
 Letters, 1813-1821, 
 
 appreciate the honour of having opened a correspondence with the 
 fair sex, and having desired you to give my most devoted love to 
 my dear father and mother, I beg you to 
 Believe me to be, my dear Miss Hook, 
 
 Your most attached and very affectionate Brother, 
 
 W. F. Hook. 
 
 .'i84<)0G
 
 38 Life of Walter Fa7'quhar Hook. 1821- 
 
 GHAPTER II. 
 
 ORDINATION — LIFE AT WHIPPINGHAM. 
 A.D. 1821-1826. 
 
 It had been Sir Walter Farquhar's wish that his grandson 
 should study for the Bar : but it was wisely determined that he 
 should be allowed to choose his own profession after he had 
 taken his degree ; and in the course of the summer of 182 1 he 
 declared his fixed and unalterable desire to enter holy orders. 
 
 He went to London in July and witnessed the coronation 
 of George IV., but party spirit ran so high in reference to the 
 Queen's case that he was not permitted by his father to meet 
 his friend Wood ; a privation to which he submitted, but with 
 resentment which he did not attempt to conceal. ' I lament,' 
 he writes, ' that party spirit has now come to such a height that 
 private intercourse between friends must be sacrificed to political 
 feeling. It does not speak well for the times, and I could 
 bring many instances to prove that there is no necessity for 
 friends to part on account of diversity in their political senti- 
 ments ; though that of Addison and Steele will suffice.' 
 
 In fact his disappointment on account of his failure as he 
 called it at Oxford, his dissatisfaction with the tone of politics 
 and with the state of the English drama, and the continued 
 prohibition of intercourse with his friend, all concurred to make 
 him turn with a sense of relief from the world, especially the 
 world of London, to quiet preparation for holy orders in the 
 retirement of his lather's rectory in the Isle of Wight. In the 
 latter part of the summer the curacy of Whippingham became 
 vacant, and his father was anxious that he should fill the situa-
 
 -i826 W hippingham . 39 
 
 tion and be ordained without delay. He was examined by his 
 father and privately ordained by the Bishop of Hereford, who 
 was also Warden of Winchester, in the chapel of the college on 
 September 30, and preached his first sermon in the Parish 
 Church of Whippingham on the following Sunday. 
 
 And now being no longer shackled and fretted by uncon- 
 genial studies, he threw the whole force of his intellect and 
 affections into the work to which he had been called. While 
 his well-beloved poets and writers of fiction were still the com- 
 panions of his leisure hours, theology and ecclesiastical history 
 occupied the foremost place in his attention. He had long 
 delighted in these subjects, and he now pursued the study of 
 them with increased ardour, because he felt it to be his duty as 
 well as his pleasure. But although everyone who knew him 
 intimately, believed, notwithstanding the comparative failure of 
 his career at school and college, that his abilities were of no 
 common order, probably no one had discerned the prodigious 
 capacity for study and the immense practical energy which were 
 to be manifested as soon as they had got a fair field for action. 
 Probably also few were aware what a deep fund of tender, 
 genial sympathy there was in one who had hitherto lived rather 
 after the manner of a shy recluse, and few could have then fore- 
 seen what a spell he would henceforth exercise over the hearts 
 of those who were confided to his pastoral care. 
 
 I propose to make a brief sketch of his character and 
 manner of life during the six years of his curacy at Whippingham, 
 reserving for a more particular account the only episodes ot 
 importance in this quiet period ; one of which was also the first 
 event that brought him into public notice. 
 
 His father being Archdeacon of Huntingdon and Canon of 
 Winchester, as well as a Royal Chaplain, fond also of London 
 society, a keen politician and writer of political pamphlets, was 
 often absent from Whippingham, and when he was there could 
 rarely take much part in parochial duty from increasing ill- 
 health and infirmity. His son, therefore, was practically curate 
 in charge, and was often the only inmate of the rectory for weeks 
 or months together. He seems thoroughly to have enjoyed his
 
 40 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1821- 
 
 seclusion and independence, although he had no lack of society 
 if he wished it, being always a welcome guest at many houses, 
 more especially Northwood, the residence of Mr. Ward, near 
 West Cowes, and Norris Castle, the abode at that time of Lord 
 Henry Seymour. Quiet English country scenery had always a 
 peculiar charm for him, and he enjoyed it to the full in the Isle 
 of Wight. An early bathe in the Medina, which flows at the 
 foot of the hill on which the rectory stands, study from early 
 morning till the beginning of the afternoon, visits to his flock, 
 evenings spent with his kind and pleasant neighbours or in the 
 society of his beloved Shakspeare or Walter Scott or Miss 
 Austen, rambles on soft summer nights, sometimes prolonged 
 till nearly dawn, to listen to the nightingale and watch the silvery 
 light of the moon upon the river or the sea ; these made up 
 the ordinary incidents of his daily life, a strange contrast in its 
 calm and sweet repose to the years of turmoil and excitement 
 in great smoky cities which were in store for him. Often and 
 often in those later years, as will be seen, did he pine for the 
 tranquillity of his Whippingham days, and look forward to the 
 time when he might be able to retire to some peaceful home in 
 or near the Isle of Wight. And one great reason of his con- 
 tentment in old age with the Deanery of Chichester was its. 
 nearness to the island which he loved so well. 
 
 A few extracts from his letters at this time will best illustrate 
 the foregoing remarks. Writing to his mother from Oxford, 
 where he was staying to attend Lloyd's Divinity Lectures before 
 taking priest's orders, he says : 
 
 My bowels yearn for our lovely island. To peace and quiet, to 
 the parish that I love and the studies I delight in, to pursuits 
 which are congenial to my soul and to that retirement for which I 
 am best adapted, to divinity, to Shakspeare and the Muse, to 
 gi'een fields instead of dirty streets, to the calm of the country 
 instead of the noise of the town, to the love of my simple flock in- 
 stead of the heartlessness of the world, I shall return with increased 
 joy and redoubled zest, there to lay deep the foundations for future 
 distinction in the vocation to which I am heart and soul devoted. 
 
 Although he was now sociable on the whole in his disposi-
 
 -1826 A Rainy Day. 41 
 
 tion, yet at times a sudden and irresistible impulse seized him 
 to spend part of his day alone with no society but that of his 
 beloved poets. In a letter dated March 1823 he describes how 
 he started one evening to dine at Northwood ' in my best hosen, 
 best trousers, and best coat ; but when I had walked half-way 
 to Cowes it occurred to me that it would be much preferable to 
 return to my own fire-side and read Shakspeare, which I ac- 
 cordingly did ; and I had the satisfaction of hearing the rain 
 come down in torrents just about the time I should have been 
 walking home after my dinner.' 
 
 Those who know the Isle of Wight will recognise in the fol- 
 lowing letters a very fresh and life-like description of the sweet 
 sunny days in spring, and the blustering rainy south-westers, 
 for which the climate there even in summer is equally 
 notorious. 
 
 The Rectory : June 21, 1824. 
 
 I arrived here cold and chilly on Friday night at a house where 
 I was not expected. Next day I woke early, intending to enjoy 
 the delights of the country, but found it pouring in torrents ; I 
 therefore tried to go to sleep, but failed. I know not anything 
 more miserable than my condition that day : without any pursuit, 
 all around dull, dark, and dismal, a strong south-wester howling 
 and the pattering of the rain incessant. I was a perfect ' energu- 
 men,' if being possessed with ' bhce devils ' as well as others entitle 
 one to the name, and would have thanked our Bishop most heartily 
 had he been at hand to exorcise me. Raining as it did, I was 
 forced to go out in self-defence. I found the farmers grumbling 
 because of the hay lately cut, and the labourers surly and wet, the 
 matrons coming from market sulky and the maidens cross, the 
 invalids doubly ill, and all the parish out of humour. When we do 
 have bad weather in the island I verily believe that it is worse than 
 anywhere else in the whole world. But now I have hit upon my 
 line of reading, and it may blow tempests and rain cats and dogs 
 for all I care. 
 
 May 2, 1822. 
 
 My dearest mother, . . . This is not Whippingham, it is 
 Paradise ; and if you wish to form any idea of what it now is, 
 dismiss all recollection of it from your thoughts, and read all the 
 fine descriptions of gardens that you meet with in the poets, par-
 
 42 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1821- 
 
 liicularly in Shakspeare and Spenser ; and then you may be able to 
 form some (though a very shght) idea of what it is. I think all the 
 i)irds in England are on a visit to the island — at least I will be 
 bound to say that you never heard such a choir as we have here. 
 One feels all this the more by living alone ; and, as I have no one 
 •else to talk to, and Heaven forbid that I should have any, I may 
 truly say with my friend the duke that I find ' tongues in trees, books 
 in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.' 
 Uncle Theodore would say that it would be more convenient if I 
 -could take the last assertion but one in a more literal sense. But 
 really, you cannot think what an interest I take in inanimate 
 Nature, and animate too. I begin almost sometimes to think that 
 I shall grow sentimental, which is the very last thing I desire, and 
 perhaps be inclined ere long 'to hail the gooseberry bushes,' which 
 I trust you have already done at Sydenham. I generally take a 
 stroll in the neighbouring fields about five o'clock, and return 
 home to dinner between seven and eight ; and then read till about 
 ten or eleven, when I go out again, and flirt with the moon and 
 listen to the nightingale till one or two ; the moon is on the water 
 about that time. Alas, yesterday morning I was wandering close 
 to the Nashes (where there is a nightingale) between one and two 
 -o'clock, but never a youth or a lass did I meet going to the woods 
 -a-Maying ; all was as still and silent as ever. And yesterday I 
 ■could not resist the temptation ot galloping over the country in 
 ■quest of a Maypole, but not one was to be found ; and I must con- 
 fess, with all my attachment to the island, I could not conceive a 
 place where there is less reverence for old customs, less of what 
 you may call rural and poetic feelings in the peasantry, than there 
 is here. There never was such weather as this is since the days 
 of Dan Chaucer, and 1 do sincerely hope it may last. I was made 
 to live alone ; and certainly if one can converse with trees and 
 brooks and stones, they must be the most pleasant companions, 
 because they cannot thwart you, dispute with you, or quarrel with 
 you. And hence I am miserable at the intended visit of Dun- 
 combe and Pollen ; at least, if it continues fine like this ; however, 
 if they come, why then we must do as well as we can. Did you 
 ever read ' Pride and Prejudice ' ? I sent for it a few weeks ago 
 when I had a cold, which stuffed up my nose and caused a ringing 
 in my ears, and the weather was rainy, so that I was too poorly to 
 read anything serious, and not in a humour for poetry. It amused 
 jne very much ; it is a regular gossip throughout. 1 found myself in
 
 -1826 Atcnt Eliza. 43 
 
 a pleasant family circle, and listened to the gossip without having 
 the trouble of joining in it ; and at last became so interested in 
 their welfare that the mamma herself could not have been more 
 anxious about marrying her daughters than I was. I loved 
 Lizzie ; but I should have married Jane if I had had my choice. 
 Altogether, for a bad gloomy day, and with a cold about one, it is 
 a very good kind of book ; but as to reading it in such weather as 
 this, and in the merry month of May, it would be not only absurd, 
 but impossible. Indeed, I suppose all the world, except people of 
 fashion and business, are reading poetiy and nothing else, without 
 it is divinity. 
 
 His solitude at the Rectory was relieved by the periodical 
 visits of his parents and sister, and occasionally of his aunt Miss 
 Farquhar — Aunt Eliza as she was called, w^ho seems to have 
 been quite a type of the old maiden aunt of a family — very 
 kind, but rather exacting, and somewhat overwhelming in her 
 ecstatic affection and fussy anxiety for every member of the 
 family ; qualities which could not fail to provoke playful sallies 
 of humour from her nephew. The following letter written 
 during his mother's convalescence after a severe illness in 
 December 1824, puts the worthy aunt completely before us : 
 
 I have no news whatever to tell you. Aunt Eliza was a little 
 disgusted at my not bringing back particulars enough concerning 
 you. Let Georgiana therefore inform us how many hours you 
 usually sleep, how much pheasant you generally eat, and whether 
 Lady Charlotte's society does not particularly, in a kind of in- 
 describable /^cw/Za;- way, suit you. She must tell us also whether 
 you read, and what you read, and whether you feel exhausted after 
 reading, as is sometimes the case, or whether, as is also sometimes 
 the case, you do 7iot feel exhausted. Because, if you do not feel ex- 
 hausted, it will do you good ; but if you do feel exhausted, Aunt E. 
 '•hopes to God^ that my father will prevent your reading too much. 
 Aunt E. will not believe me when I tell her that you do not like to 
 read. She says it is all very well for me to say so, or even for 
 you, but with your peculiar temperament she knows that it is im- 
 possible. In short, Georgiana must send us more particulars. 
 
 P.S. Quarter past three o'clock. — Tell Georgiana that I am 
 happy in knowing she will write a most beautiful hand. Aunt
 
 44 Life of Waltei" Farqiihar Hook. 1821- 
 
 Eliza can perceive it even now ; there were some letters and some 
 words quite perfect in her last note. Aunt E. descanted on it for 
 three-quarters of an hour ' by Shrewsbury clock ' yesterday, and was 
 quite angry with me, even to the stamping of stick authoritatively 
 on the floor, when I was rather sceptical. 
 
 P.S. — I open my note again to say that Aunt E. says it is only 
 just three, not a quarter past. 
 
 Some time after this, when his mother was still in delicate 
 health, he accompanied her on the journey from Whippingham 
 to London. East Cowes, the place of embarkation for the 
 mainland, is about two miles distant from Whippingham, and 
 whilst waiting for the boat the following report of their progress 
 was sent back to the anxious aunt : words underlined after her 
 own style. 
 
 Most confidential. 
 
 My dearest Aunt, — As it will be satisfactory to you to know how 
 we are proceeding on our journey, I cannot resist the temptation of 
 sending you word that we have advanced as far as Cowes most 
 
 prosperously. My dearest, most beloved mother has borne the 
 
 journey very well indeed. 
 
 Your most devotedl y, adoringly affectionate Nephew. 
 
 Besides this playful kind of humour which was an essential 
 part of his nature, and which, as will be seen, was constantly 
 bubbling up and overflowing into all the action of his life, he at 
 this time still practised many of the more whimsical kind of 
 frolics which, as he mentions in one of his letters transcribed 
 above, he had invented for his own amusement. His sister, 
 who naturally came in for a full share of his raillery and ban- 
 ter, and whom he frequently addressed with mock solemnity as 
 
 Demoiselle buxom, blithe and debonair, 
 With a naughty look and auburn hair, 
 
 used often to accompany him in his walks and rides. Now and 
 then he would suddenly dart from her side, make a furious rush
 
 -1826 Work at Whippingham. 45 
 
 at trees or hedges and thrash them with tremendous violence, 
 pretending that they were enemies. 
 
 As his sportive freaks were ahvays of the most innocent and 
 childhke character — the mere exuberance of animal spirits, so 
 also his jocosity was now and always utterly free alike from 
 coarseness and sarcasm or satire ; it never jarred either with the 
 amiability or earnest piety of his character, but blended itself 
 with these qualities and enhanced their charms. 
 
 His mirth was the pure spirit of various wit, 
 But never did his God or friend forget. 
 
 And this absence of discord in his character makes it the 
 more easy to turn from the contemplation of him in his lighter 
 moods to the consideration of that serious work as a pastor and 
 a student to which he was now heart and soul devoted. The 
 parish of Whippingham was at that time very extensive, and 
 included East Cowes, about two miles distant from the Rectory 
 and Parish Church, containing a poor seafaring population. No 
 direct and separate provision for the spiritual wants of these 
 people had been made. Many lived in a condition of godless 
 ignorance ; a few who were more religiously disposed attended 
 their parish church sometimes in the morning, and very com- 
 monly some dissenting chapel in the evening. Mr, Hook 
 obtained the use of a large sail loft in which he held an evening 
 service on Sundays, and catechised the children. These ser- 
 vices were very largely attended by sailors, fishermen, and other 
 poor people, and were productive of excellent results. When 
 he was paying a visit to Whippingham after he had become 
 Dean of Chichester, and was walking with the present Rector, 
 Canon Prothero, about his old parish, an aged man came up 
 and anxiously inquired if he remembered him. He said he 
 did, and afterwards told the Rector that the man was one who 
 had been a loose liver in his youth, but having been induced to 
 attend the Sunday evening services in the sail loft had become 
 an altered character. 
 
 Any man who has made the experiment will be ready to 
 acknowledge that it is no small labour after two full services in
 
 46 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 182 1- 
 
 one church to walk two miles to conduct a third service in 
 another place, and then to walk home ; and this not once or 
 twice on special occasions, but every Sunday and all the year 
 round. The number of communicants also increased so largely 
 during his administration that on great festivals the intervals 
 between his services on Sundays were very short. In May 1825, 
 he writes, ' On Whitsun Day I was properly worked. We had 
 a very fine attendance at the Altar. I was not out of church 
 till a quarter to three o'clock ; went in again at three ; had five 
 christenings and a funeral, and was not out till five, when I had 
 to start immediately to be in time for the school at East Cowes 
 at six, from which I was not released till eight.' His bodily 
 strength, however, was a match for his zeal, and he rarely, if 
 ever, complained of fatigue. One very hot evening, however, 
 in June 1825, he arrived at Northwood rather weary and very 
 hot after his service in the sail loft. His friend. Lord Henry 
 Seymour, happened to be there and proposed that a chapel of 
 ease should be built at East Cowes ; a practical suggestion 
 which not long after, though not in Mr. Hook's time, was 
 carried into effect. 
 
 As he always looked back to Whippingham with gratitude for 
 the leisure which it had afforded him to lay deep the foundation 
 of his theological and historical learning, so also did he regard his 
 residence there as the period in which, more than in any other, 
 he had acquired the pastoral tone of his mind and formed the 
 pastoral habits of his life. When he was not in his study he 
 was constantly engaged in visiting his people, and the parish, 
 though extensive, was not so large as to prevent his becoming 
 in this way the intimate friend of every member of his flock. 
 His power of sympathy, the most indispensable qualification of 
 a successful pastor, was in this manner continually being drawn 
 out and strengthened, and became then and ever afterwards a 
 principal if not the principal, source of his extraordinary influ- 
 ence over the hearts of those amongst whom he ministered. It 
 was his belief that the larger scale on which work has to be 
 carried on in towns, the multiplicity of business in which town 
 clergy are involved, and the consequent distraction of their
 
 -1826 Pastoral Sympathy. 47 
 
 energy and sympathy into a variety of channels, rendered a 
 town parish an unfavourable school for learning the duties of 
 the pastoral vocation. 'I say without hesitation,' he writes 
 long after he had become Vicar of Leeds, ' that the very worst 
 training a man can have is that which he receives if appointed 
 early in life to a town parish. The strong pastoral feeling is 
 generated in the country, and I attribute what little success I 
 have had entirely to my country breeding.' Two or three 
 extracts from his letters written during the Whippingham period 
 will suffice to show how completely he had learned in the most 
 genuine and literal sense to identify himself with the joy^ and 
 sorrows of his people, to rejoice with them that rejoiced, and 
 to weep with them that wept. The first is to his mother in. 
 December 1824. 
 
 Your permission and recommendation to have the feast on Christ- 
 mas Day in the barn is in every respect agreeable to me. The chil- 
 dren will think more of it — and if it had been given at the school the 
 parents would have thought that it was done by subscription, and 
 claimed as a right what they ought to receive as a favour. It really 
 was gratifying to see the many happy faces which were there 
 yesterday when I gave notice of our intentions, and it was comical. 
 to see the doubtful ones of those who were not quite sure but they 
 had exceeded the number prescribed of bad tickets. I doubt very 
 much whether the children enjoy the thoughts of it more than 
 myself. I wish to heaven we could feed the whole parish, and that 
 every day. 
 
 In like manner, attendance at a village club dinner, which 
 to so many clergy is a vexatious and irksome business, was 
 to him a real pleasure. ' On Easter Monday it would sadly 
 grieve me not to preach to the club and dine with them. It is 
 one of the days I enjoy most in the whole year.' 
 
 Then to take the other side of sympathy : the following is 
 a specimen how thoroughly he entered into the trouble of 
 others as if it was his own, and how his affection for his people 
 and theirs for him had its root in the discharge of his pastoral 
 duty amongst them ; so that it was essentially the love of a 
 pastor for his flock and of a flock for their pastor. 'The
 
 4^ Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1821- 
 
 Tassels are going to Bideford ; they start to-night. You 
 cannot think how sorry I feel at parting with them, for I had 
 trained both of them for Holy Communion, and he took it for 
 the first time on Christmas Day, and she on Whitsun Day : and 
 she was a convert of mine from the Dissenters. Poor Tassel ; 
 he cried like a child at parting with me, and so to keep him 
 company I cried too.' 
 
 When he first made uj) his mind to take Holy Orders he 
 declared his intention of dedicating two years entirely to a 
 deep study of divinity, and to the foundation of his style. 
 This intention was more than fulfilled, for he was a most 
 industrious and laborious student during the whole six years of 
 his curacy at Whippingham, laying up stores of knowledge and 
 thought during that period which were of incalculable value to 
 him throughout the rest of his life. In fact, whenever he was 
 not visiting in his parish he was engaged in study, and in order 
 to ensure complete privacy he had a little wooden hut set up 
 near the corner of the churchyard, in which he used to read. 
 He once asked his uncle Theodore what he should call it. ' I 
 should call it Walter's cot,' was the reply of the ever ready 
 punster. In this cot or hut he worked at his books, often as 
 many as nine or ten hours, sometimes rising very early and 
 reading on, with only the interval of breakfast, till two or three 
 o'clock in the afternoon. Sometimes, but more rarely, he sat 
 up late at night, but in any case he usually spent a consider- 
 able part of the evening as well as the morning in this re- 
 tirement. 
 
 In the first year after his ordination as deacon he seems to 
 have read chiefly with a view to his ordination as priest, which 
 took place at Christmas 1822, and also to fill his mind with 
 matter for sermons, which for some time caused him no little 
 anxiety and trouble. He was indeed so exceedingly distrustful 
 of his powers that at one period he did not venture to preach 
 his own, but having written one which he preached on behalf 
 of some charity at Newport, and which was much commended, 
 he plucked up courage and writes, May 1822, to his mother : 
 * I am now in such good humour with myself that I shall take
 
 -1826 A Course of Study. 49 
 
 to writing my own sermons again, for during the last two or 
 three months I have not dared even to attempt one.' 
 
 In 1824 he embarked on a course of reading according to 
 a plan of his own, and completed it in 1826. The annexed 
 chart of this course is a singular monument of industry, when 
 the necessary avocations of parochial work and occasional in- 
 terruption from other causes are taken into account. The 
 piles of note-books also, in my possession, all bearing date 
 within the space of these two years, are an evidence how 
 steadily and solidly the work was done. 
 
 His primary object in following out this course was to 
 obtain a clear and comprehensive view of the principles of the 
 Church Catholic from the earliest times, to trace the intro- 
 duction of errors into the Western Church during the period of 
 Papal domination, and to measure the extent to which these 
 errors were renounced by the Reformers of the sixteenth cen- 
 tury, especially in our own country. And as the result of his 
 researches pursued on this historical method, he was led to the 
 conviction which all his subsequent studies strengthened, and 
 to which he ever held with a tenacious grasp, that the Re- 
 formed Anglican Church was a pure and apostolical branch of 
 the Church Catholic : that she was essentially Catholic, as 
 being on all vital points of constitution, doctrine, and practice 
 in harmony with the primitive Church , and on the other hand 
 essentially Protestant, as opposed to the pretensions of the 
 Papal power and to the corruption in teaching and practice of 
 the Middle Ages. The close of his career of study at Whip- 
 pingham left him with his antipathies matured against the 
 Romanist who would corrupt the Church, against the Puritan 
 who would destroy it, against the Latitudinarian and Erastian 
 who would sacrifice its principles to considerations of ex- 
 pediency and worldly interest. And it was his destiny to carry 
 on, throughout his life, a manful and almost incessant contest 
 with these three great elements of danger to the purity and 
 integrity of the Church of England. 
 
 After this general sketch of his life at Whippingham, into 
 which it seemed desirable to enter in order to show how firm 
 
 E
 
 50 Life of Walter Farqiiha7'' Hook. 1821- 
 
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 -1826 Preaches Visitation Sermon. 51 
 
 -and deep the foundations of his future career, both as a pastor 
 and an ecclesiastical historian and theologian, were laid, it 
 only remains to relate in a few words the two incidents by 
 -which alone the calm seclusion of this period was interrupted. 
 
 His father had been appointed to preach at the Bishop of 
 Winchester's visitation at Newport, in the summer of 1822 ; 
 "but as the time approached he began to shrink from the ex- 
 ertion owing to the feeble state of his health. He determined, 
 to the no small dismay of his son, to propose him as his substi- 
 tute. Remonstrances were vain: the Bishop gave his consent; 
 the young deacon set about his task with the energy and per- 
 severance which always distinguished him in a case of necessity 
 ox duty. July 2 arrived. The Bishop (Tomline) passed the 
 night at the rectory, and on the following morning Mrs. Hook, 
 full of maternal anxiety, drove him to Newport in her pony 
 chaise. 
 
 The excellence of the sermon in itself, the perfection of 
 the young preacher's utterance, and the musical tones of his 
 voice made a very great impression upon all who heard him. 
 The Bishop was especially warm in his praise of it, and made 
 an exception to a rule from which he said he very rarely 
 departed in requesting that it should be printed.' 
 
 The sermon is entitled 'The Peculiar Character of the 
 Church of England independently of its Connexion with the 
 State.' A certain stiffness and formality of style betray the 
 youth of the author and the painfulness and care with which 
 he wrote at this time ; but the argument is neither crude nor 
 feeble. It is sustained with the confidence of one who feels 
 sure of his ground and sees his way. That it is the duty of 
 Englishmen to belong to the Church, not because it is estab- 
 lished, but because it is a pure branch of the Church Catholic ; 
 that such a Church can exist in purity and vigour under any 
 form of government, either severed from the state or connected 
 
 ' It may now be Tound in vol. i. of the Church and her Ordinances, a 
 selection of Dr. Hook's sermons recently edited by his son, Rev. Walter Hook, 
 ■Rector of I'orlock, published by Bcntley and Son. 
 
 E 2
 
 52 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1821- 
 
 with it; that the conthicntal Reformers in their intem])(. rate, 
 zeal founded new churches, whereas the English only cleansed 
 and repaired the superstructure, leaving the old foundations 
 intact ; that many of the leading foreign Reformers became as- 
 dogmatic and exacting as popes, whereas in England individuals, 
 however eminent, had not assumed any such overbearing 
 authority ; that the most dangerous enemies to the Church, 
 were still, and always had been, the conforming Puritans, men 
 who adhered to the form but rejected the spirit of the institu- 
 tion, who, in the words of South, ' live by the altar, but turn, 
 their back upon it; catch at the preferments of the Church, but 
 hate the order and discipline of it ; ' these were the principal 
 topics of his discourse. These were positions which he main- 
 tained to the end of his life ; and the clear and bold assertion 
 of them at this period proves that the laborious plan of study 
 on which he was about to enter did but deepen convictions at. 
 which by previous reading he had already arrived. 
 
 The second episode in the Whijjpingham period, occurring. 
 near the close of it, was a matter of much more importance. 
 
 An old friend of his father's, Dr. Luscombe, who had once 
 kept the school at Hertford in which, as has been related^ 
 Walter and his brother Robert began their education, had been 
 resident for five years in France, engaged in tuition, from 1820 
 to 1825. It was reckoned that about fifty thousand English, 
 were then sojourning in that country ; but the supply of clergy 
 and places of worship for such as belonged to the Church of 
 England was extremely inadequate ; they were not licensed or 
 subject to any regular supervision, much laxity of practice pre- 
 vailed, and young people grew up without receiving the rite of 
 Confirmation. It seemed to Dr. Luscombe that some recog- 
 nised, authorised bond of union was highly desirable to hold 
 together these scattered congregations, and keep them true to 
 the principles of the Church of their mother country. Such a 
 tie he conceived might be found in the appointment of a 
 bishop, or at least an archdeacon, to overlook and organise the 
 clergy and their flocks. He consulted his friends in England 
 on the subject as early as the year 182 1, and there were none
 
 -i8::6 Overtures to Scottish Church. 53 
 
 •of them who entered so warmly into the project as Archdeacon 
 Hook and his son. 
 
 It was at first thought that the design might be effected by 
 the appointment of a suffragan to the Bishop of London, to 
 whose spiritual jurisdiction all British residents on the Continent 
 were nominally subject. Dr. Howley, then Bishop of London, 
 and other prelates, as well as Mr. Peel and Mr. Canning, the 
 Home and Foreign Secretaries of State, were consulted, who 
 after much deliberation and correspondence expressed them- 
 selves adverse to the proposal. They feared that the sending 
 of a bishop by the Established Church of England to minister 
 in France might be regarded by the Government of that 
 country as an unwarrantable intrusion, and occasion jealousies 
 and suspicions, if not difficulties of a more serious kind. The 
 project accordingly languished and seemed likely to be 
 abandoned. But meanwhile the young curate of Whipping- 
 ham had been following out a line of study which, as we have 
 seen, led him to discern clearly and to value deeply the 
 essential principles of the Church independently of any con- 
 nexion with the State. He had consequently learned to take 
 a peculiar interest in the disestablished Church of Scotland, 
 and the unestablished Church in America. 
 
 The past sufferings and the present poverty and obscurity 
 of the Scottish Church kindled in him feelings of the tenderest 
 •compassion ; its purity and zeal, feelings of the warmest 
 admiration and respect. Suddenly it occurred to his mind 
 that this despised and insignificant branch of the Church 
 Catholic might execute the design to which the Church of 
 England, hampered by its connexion with the State, had not 
 dared to put its hand. As by the consecration of Bishop 
 Seabury, the first American Bishop, in 1784, the little Church 
 of Scotland had become the parent of a large and flourishing 
 Church in the New World, so he trusted she might propagate 
 another on the European continent. A request was therefore 
 forwarded at his suggestion to Dr. David Low, Bishop of Ross 
 and Argyle, that he would sound the judgment of his brother 
 bishops on the subject. After much corrcsijondence, lasting
 
 54 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1821- 
 
 over several months, and relating chiefly to the question, 
 whether an election on the part of the English clergy in 
 France should be required, and also how far it would be 
 prudent or gracious for the Scottish Church to send out a 
 bishop to minister to British subjects without the direct sanc- 
 tion of the English Church and Government, the College of 
 Scotch Bishops proposed to consecrate Dr. Luscombe himself 
 as their missionary bishop to British residents on the continent 
 of Europe : he on his part j)ledging himself to renounce all 
 offers of preferment in England. Intimations were received 
 from the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Mr. Peel and Mr. 
 Canning, that no obstacles would be raised by the Church or 
 Government in England to this plan. Sunday, March 20, 1825, 
 was fixed for the consecration, which was to take place at 
 Stirling ; and Dr. Luscombe requested his old pupil, now 
 curate of Whippingham, to accompany him as his chaplain 
 and to preach the sermon. 
 
 His visit to Scotland was always regarded by him as one of 
 the most memorable events in his life. He deeply valued the 
 friendships which he then formed, more especially with Bishops 
 Sandford and Low, Mr. Walker, afterwards Bishop of Edin- 
 burgh, and last, but not least, with the learned, warm-hearted, 
 and deeply pious Bishop Jolly, a model of primitive simplicity 
 and poverty in manner of life, of whom Bishop Hobart the 
 American remarked, ' Men go from the extremity of Britain to 
 America to see the falls of Niagara, and think themselves amply 
 rewarded by the sight of this singular scene in nature. Had I 
 gone from America to Aberdeen and seen nothing but Bishop 
 Jolly as I saw him for two days, I should hold myself greatly 
 rewarded. In our new country we have no such men, and I 
 could not have imagined such without seeing him.' 
 
 Just as Mr. Hook was starting on his journey an offer was. 
 made of a church in Regent Street, London, or rather a 
 request that he would become a candidate for the incumbency 
 by the detestable plan then not uncommon of preaching in the 
 church as a specimen of his powers. His friends and, to some 
 extent, his parents, who wished to jnish him forward at a speed
 
 -iS26 Visit to Scotland. 55 
 
 in excess of his inclinations, were very anxious that he should 
 accede to the application, and even after his arrival in Scotland 
 he was pestered with entreaties to return to London for the 
 purpose. But he never wavered in his refusal. 
 
 'I do not feel myself competent,' he said, for the situation 
 offered in London. It would necessarily lead to a superficial 
 reading for a temporary purpose, and I should be unable to 
 enlarge that platform upon which I mean to build my hopes. 
 Besides which, I should not choose to undertake any office 
 which would, as it were, limit my services to only a particular 
 and inferior branch of my calling (viz. preaching). In addition 
 to this, I have no notion of being chosen like a public singer or 
 actor. . . . Here therefore ends this matter.' 
 
 His father, indeed, had been a little fascinated by the pro- 
 spect of his son's abilities being displayed in London, but his 
 more sober judgment was adverse to the step. ' Walter's 
 advance,' he writes, 'in his pursuits is extraordinar}^ He is 
 up at six o'clock every morning in this month of February and 
 lights his own fire, and I think it would be injurious to him 
 should he be interrupted before he has completed the course 
 of study by which he promises to become a most eminent 
 theologian.' His father thought also that, with the exception 
 of Bishop Andrewes, few men had risen to distinction as 
 divines who had begun as preachers only. 
 
 The following group of letters will furnish the best record 
 of his visit to Scotland. The first extract, which is from a 
 letter written at York, I merely introduce as an illustration of 
 the wide difference between the tongue of the North and 
 South of England before the days ofraihvays and education acts. 
 
 You will be glad to hear of our arrival here, having travelled a 
 day and a night, or rather twenty-six hours ; if indeed this be 
 York we are in. For I rather suspect that while asleep in the 
 coach last night they must have carried me over to Germany, 
 since the language here talked may be German or Danish, but 
 certainly is not English. I heard the ' Cryer ' just now pursuing 
 his vocation, but I would defy those who live nearer the sun than 
 York to understand what he intended to give notice of.
 
 56 Life of Walter Farqiiha}'- Hook. 1821- 
 
 To Jiis MotJicr. 
 
 Whippingham : December 20, 1824. 
 
 I am so full of ideas all bearing.upon my Scotch sermon that I 
 grudge every moment that I am not reading. I wish for a dozen 
 eyes and a dozen brains and a dozen such memories as Woodfall's, 
 for I could name a dozen books, all of which I want to read at 
 once, and the difficulty is which first to choose ; for as soon as I 
 sit down to one I immediately wish that I had taken up the other. 
 Had the good Bishop Low consulted me how best he could have 
 gratified me, it would have been by coupling my name as he has 
 done with my dear father's. There is a kind of beautiful rhythm 
 in the sentence : ' To the two Hooks, father and son, though 
 entirely unknown to me, I could wish my respects to be made 
 through you for the public and honourable mention which they 
 have made of our poor but still respectable Church.' 
 
 To that poor but respectable Church I last year became a sub- 
 scriber of i/. annual subscription, which when I become a Bishop I 
 mean to make 100/. I think the correspondence which has 
 taken place between the Scotch Bishops and Dr. Luscombe speaks 
 volumes in praise of the former ; the readiness, the zeal, the kind- 
 ness, the true Christian feeling with which they have one and all 
 entered into his views remind one of former and better times ; of 
 days when a Bishop was almost another name for a martyr. There 
 is no single office that I would so gladly undertake as that of 
 preaching Dr. Luscombe's Consecration Sermon, and I am sure 
 there is none for which at present I am so well prepared. 
 
 His Vexation at the Application of Bishop Gleig to the Government 
 for its Sanction to the Consecratio7i of Dr. Luscombe in 
 Scotland. 
 
 Whippingham : December 28, 1824. 
 
 I look upon the whole business as now at an end. I shall now 
 cease from collecting materials for my sermon and return to my 
 regular pursuits. I should have thought that experience would 
 have taught Bishop Gleig the absurdity of applying to Govern- 
 ment for its decision on a subject purely theological ; a subject on 
 which most of its members are probably ignorant, and in which 
 in these days of liberality and conciliation they would certainly 
 not willingly commit themselves. Is Government friendly to the
 
 -1826 Consecration 0/ Dr. Litscombc. 57 
 
 Episcopalians of Scotland ? When has it proved itself so ? Has 
 it not always been the policy of every Government, Whig or Tory, 
 to oppress, persecute, exterminate the Episcopal Church? Was 
 not even their present bare toleration merely wrung from it, with a 
 Lord Chancellor haranguing vehemently against them ? But even 
 look further, when the greatest and wisest and best of our prelates, 
 when Wake and Potter and Seeker, names ever to be honoured, 
 Avere earnest with Goverament to permit Bishops ivithout tem- 
 j)oral rank to be sent to our colonies — what did Government do ? 
 It treated the application with contempt ; or was deterred by poli- 
 tical circumstances. It has been the work of ytearly a century 
 to wring from Government permission to send Bishops to our 
 ■colonies. 
 
 He then goes on to admit that Ur. Luscombe being a pres- 
 byter, not of Scotland but of England, Bishop Gleig was quite 
 justified in applying (privately) to the Archbishop of Canterbury 
 for his permission to consecrate. ' It is strictly according to 
 the courtesy of the Catholics (true Catholics, I mean) not to 
 ordain ministers of another Church without permission from the 
 Bishop at the head of it. As Demetrius, Bishop of Alexandria, 
 Avas justly offended when the Bishops of Palestine ordained the 
 •celebrated Origen.' 
 
 Edinburgh — Stirling — Consecration of Dr. Luscombe. 
 
 Stirling : March 20, 1825. 
 My dearest Father, — I was delighted to find a letter from my 
 Ijeloved mother awaiting me here, and containing so good an 
 account, on the whole, both of herself and you. I have seen much, 
 and been much interested since I wrote last. I know not when 
 I spent a pleasanter day than that in which I dined with Mr. 
 Walker, who is a man superior both for his learning and piety. 
 Bishop Low has been our constant companion ; Dr. Russell, also, 
 has amused and instructed us by his conversation. On Friday 
 last I went to church at Bishop Sandford's, and was surprised to 
 find a congregation of perhaps 150 persons attending, dressed 
 mostly in mourning. This is the good old way of keeping Lent. 
 The church is a most beautiful one, and the light is pleasing and 
 solemnly deadened by the painted windows. It holds, without 
 galleries, about a thousand persons : it is not so large as Mr.
 
 58 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1821- 
 
 Alison's chapel. There is close to it an ugly, tasteless kirk in 
 which Sir Heniy Moncrieff officiates ; Bishop Low says it is com- 
 pared to a bandbox in which Bishop Sandford's Church came dowrt 
 from England. Bishop Low is old enough to remember when the 
 penal laws, the ' accursed '46 and '48,' ^ as they are called, were in, 
 full force ; and the marks of the chains are still left upon his mind. 
 The true Episcopalians appear to be fond of dwelling upon the 
 sufferings of their ancestors in the holy cause. Among the 
 sufferers was old George Rose's father ; he lived at Brechin in 
 Forfar, and having a second charge fourteen miles oft" in the 
 Highlands, he had to trudge there on foot, through rain and snow^ 
 with only a crust of bread and an onion in his pocket. He was 
 apprehended after the '46 for reading Prayers to more than four 
 persons, and put on board a man-of-war in his old age during the 
 winter months. When Bishop Home was told of this, 'Ah ! ' said 
 he, ' I should not have guessed George Rose's parentage from his. 
 principles.' . . . 
 
 Poor old Bishop Gleig is seventy-two years old, breaking by 
 age, and otherwise afflicted ; but he is too poor to be able to have 
 an assistant. This is permitted by a Government which intends ta 
 provide for the Papists ; by a Government which yearly gives 
 8,000/. to the English Dissenters, which has long made an allowance 
 to the Papists and Presbyterians in Ireland. Many Llighland 
 congregations are without ministers, because there are no funds tO' 
 pay them with : congregations which would rather become Papists 
 than Presbyterians. The case is at present before Government,, 
 but with little prospect of being attended to. Lord Bexley has 
 interested himself warmly in it. This is creditable to his Lordship, 
 as the Bishops here run into such an extreme against Calvinism as 
 to be charged with Pelagianism by their enemies, but unjustly. 
 Will you believe it ? — an application was intended to be made to the 
 Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge for assistance with 
 respect to the Highland congregations, when upon sounding pre- 
 viously some of the English Bishops, two of them dared, in the 
 
 1 By the acts of 1746-4S anyone officiating as Minister in any Episcopal 
 chapel in Scotland without receiving his letters of orders from some Bishop. 
 of the Church of England or Ireland, registering them, taking all the oaths 
 required by law, and praying for the King and Royal Family by name, was for 
 the first offence to be imprisoned for six months, for the second to be transported 
 to one of His Majesty's plantations for life. These laws remained unrepealed, 
 though not actively enforcud, up to 1792.
 
 -i826 Letters from Scotland. 59 
 
 hardihood of ignorance, to start an objection so infamously Erastian 
 as to say that the assistance ought not to be afforded, since the 
 Episcopal Church was a dissenting Church in Scotland. One 
 blushes with indignation and shame, but I much fear that too 
 many on the Bench are little better than Erastians. . . . Bishop 
 Gleig has just sent to ask me to drink tea with him, so I must 
 obey. Sunday : I have just returned from church, and I am able 
 to say that at last Dr. Luscombe is a Bishop. We met at Bishop 
 Gleig's Bishop Sandford ; he is the most delightful lovable old 
 man you ever saw ; I never knew anyone who looked more 
 truly what one would wish a Bishop to look. His voice is so soft, 
 his manner so gentle, his demeanour so gentlemanlike, that he 
 must win all hearts. He is always in full dress, with his short 
 cassock and buckles, as all the Bishops here are accustomed to be. 
 I never knew a more striking and solemn ceremony than that 
 which I have witnessed to-day. As a sight, it would have been 
 more affecting if it had been at Edinburgh in one of the magnifi- 
 cent chapels there. Stirling Chapel is an ugly building, much 
 about the size of our Church at Whippingham, with rather a larger 
 congregation. My sermon was about forty minutes long ; I was 
 sorry for it, for Bishop Sandford is a great invalid, and could hardly 
 remain out the service. Bishop Low was very much pleased with 
 it ; and Bishop Gleig said he could promise me that he never 
 heard a sermon more to his liking upon such an occasion. Bishop 
 Gleig, though a most eccentric character, is a great divine ; so I 
 consider this a great compliment. 
 
 Visit to St. Andreiu's — Dr. Chalmers. 
 
 St. Andrew's : March 24, 1825. 
 
 My dearest Mother, — I am writing this in an apartment which 
 once formed part of the palace of our unfortunate Archbishop 
 Sharp. It is rather remarkable that the first thing which met our 
 eyes upon entering Edinburgh was a placard, announcing the exhi- 
 bition of Allan's picture of that most fiendlike act of Presbyterian 
 intolerance and bigotry ; and upon our arrival at St. Andrew's we 
 were forced into the house of that unfortunate martyr. Whether 
 it forebodes ill to Bishop Luscombe or me, I know not ; but I 
 believe that, as far as I am concerned, I could suffer martyrdom 
 very decently, but then I should like it to be in the more regular 
 way ; by the halter or the stake, not by the knife of the assassin.
 
 6o Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1821- 
 
 The first thing we did this morning was to wait upon Dr. Chalmers, 
 Professor of Moral Philosophy, a friend of Dr. Luscombe's, to 
 request permission to attend his lecture ; he received us very civilly; 
 we shall meet him at a small party this evening. I was glad to 
 attend his lecture, as it would be contrary to my principles to hear 
 him preach. His lecture was a very good one, showing how the 
 discoveries which have been made by geologists tended to the cor- 
 roboration of revelation. He availed himself largely of Professor 
 Buckland's works ; but it is rather surprising that while he referred to 
 Cuvier by name, he omitted to mention that great English geologist. 
 His style was rather too figurative ; one or two splendid sentences 
 towards the close produced great effect. I was not aware that the 
 force of a few words would be so great, for it was not the matter, 
 but the words, which told. I shall in future endeavour to close my 
 sermons with a few strong sentences. I understand that Chalmers 
 has in his former lectures praised our English divines, and pro- 
 nounced the hierarchy of England to have been the great bulwark 
 against infidelity. Upon the whole his lecture was a good one ; 
 but I doubt much if it had been delivered by an Englishman, 
 whether it (or any of his works, if the works of an Englishman), 
 ^vould have obtained for the author that fame which the Whigs 
 have bestowed upon Chalmers. He gave me the idea of a person 
 ^^ ho spoke more for effect than utility ; to produce admiration for 
 himself rather than to afford edification to others. We afterwards 
 Tiewed the ruins of the cathedral ; dauntless did I stand under 
 them, for I am convinced, God be thanked, that I have not in my 
 veins one drop of the blood of John Knox ; if I had, I would draw 
 it from my body, at the risk of my life. I refer to a story which 
 was told me by Bishop Low. When Dr. Johnson was shown the 
 ruins of St. Andrew's they pointed out to him a part of them which 
 was likely to fall, and for fear of its doing mischief, they were 
 thinking of taking it down. 'No,' said the good Doctor, 'let it 
 stand for the present, it may chance to fall upon the head of some 
 descendant of John Knox.' 
 
 Visit to Bishop Jolly. 
 
 Aberdeen : April 12, 1825. 
 My dearest Mother, — When I wrote to you last I was about to 
 start for Fraserburgh, from which place I reluctantly tore myself 
 away yesterday morning, being under an engagement to dine with
 
 -1826 Visii to Bishop Jolly. 61 
 
 Bishop Skinner here. Not arriving at Fraserburgh until ten 
 o'clock on Saturday night, I did not wait upon good Bishop Jolly 
 till the following morning. I knew that the Bishop rose at four 
 o'clock ; and therefore I called at nine : but I knocked at the door 
 in vain. I was told by a passer-by that if I walked on the opposite 
 side of the road the Bishop would probably see me, and speak to 
 me from the window. No one, however, appearing, I began to fear 
 that he was gone on a visitation ; I knew that he kept no servant, 
 and that an old woman in the neighbourhood took care of the 
 house, who, after shutting the shutters and so forth of an evening, 
 very often locked the Bishop in, and took the key with her to her 
 own house. For this woman I inquired ; she refused to disturb 
 the Bishop before ten. I accordingly gave her my card to deliver 
 to him when she went to him. He immediately sent me a note 
 requesting me to call upon the Rev. Mr. Pressley, who would re- 
 spectfully conduct me to the Bishop. At half-past ten therefore I 
 saw the good old man. He was dressed in his canonicals, with 
 the whitest and largest wig in Christendom. His room was small, 
 with a small round table and a desk, and various books of reference 
 on the surrounding shelves. He seemed truly glad to see me, and 
 said, ' I am to understand that you are the son, the reverend and 
 worthy son, of a dignified Archdeacon of the honoured Church of 
 England.' He afterwards asked me whether that good worthy 
 man, the Archdeacon, were well. I set him right of course, about 
 my father's age, and told him that he had lately been very ill ; he 
 then adverted to the grand day at Stirling. ' I can assure you,' 
 said he, ' my heart was with you. I read through the whole of 
 the Consecration Service on that morning ; and my reverend 
 assistant, Mr. Pressley, and myself prayed together heartily that 
 the grand design might turn out to the glory of God.' He then 
 informed me that it was impossible for him to leave his parish 
 during Lent, or he would have been at Stirling on that grand day, 
 as he was preparing his young folk for Confirmation. In his own 
 parish he has an annual Confirmation ; in the diocese it is only 
 triennial. In his own small parish he had nineteen persons to 
 confirm, out of whom eleven were converts from Presbyterianism. 
 The Bishop did not seek first to convert them, but they made the 
 advance. Now this is very glorious and very striking. I asked 
 him whether he did not think it necessary that they should be first 
 baptized ; he said that he would confess to me, as I was a friend, 
 that they all were re-baptizcd, and this at their own request, since
 
 62 Life of Walter Fargiihar Hook. 1821- 
 
 they had scruples about lay baptism, and of course, when they were 
 converted, they regarded, as we do, the ministers of the Scotch 
 Established Church merely as laymen. Be careful not to talk of 
 this ; for although it is always done, it is done under the rose, 
 since the ministers of the Establishment are very irate indeed 
 when they discover that we re-baptize the quondam members of 
 their communion. The bishop would not permit me — a reverend 
 clergyman of the honoured Church of England (and he said ' we 
 are very like the Church of England, almost the same ') — to sit 
 without the rails of the altar, but I sat within with him, and read 
 the Epistle. In the afternoon Mr. Pressley said it would be 
 * brotherly to read prayers,' which I did. Between the services, I 
 was delighted with the conversation of the good, dear Bishop ; a 
 biscuit and a glass of wine was all his dinner ; in general he takes 
 a basin of soup, but, in honour of me he had some wine that day, 
 which made his dinner. He has perhaps as good a divinity library 
 as any clergyman in Great Britain ; some most scarce and valuable 
 books are in it. It has been the collection of fifty years; many of them 
 presents, or bought when books were cheaper than they are now. 
 It shows what a man may do on a little ; for this most apostolic 
 bishop has only 60/. a year to live on, having by ill health been 
 obliged to procure an assistant at 40/. per annum ; this 40/. is ex- 
 clusive of the 60/. ; of this 60/. he spends half in charity. You can 
 form no conception how he is beloved. It is a beautiful sight to 
 see the children running across the street when he appears, and 
 holding down their little heads while he lays his hands upon them 
 and blesses them. Many of the grown-up people kneel down and 
 receive his blessing also. Last year, when Mr. Walker was at 
 Fraserburgh, some fishermen, going out on the whale fishing, 
 walked six miles before they sailed to receive his blessing. It was 
 the old custom in England, long retained in Scotland, for any per- 
 son when waiting on a Bishop, to kneel down and beg his blessing. 
 I lament, however, to say that it is going out here, and is retained 
 only by Bishop Jolly, except on particular occasions. Mr. Pressley 
 told me that he always knelt down and received his blessing on 
 Sunday morning, or when he waited on him on clerical business, or 
 to pray with him. This worthy young man, Mr. Pressley, is tread- 
 ing in the Bishop's steps ; he was ordained deacon at nineteen ; he 
 is now only twenty-four. His reading has been so extensive that 
 he would shame many first-rate divines in England ; all our great 
 English authors he knows well ; he has read the Fathers, that is,
 
 -iS26 Visit to Bishop yolly 6"^ 
 
 the best of them ; he can refer to any sentence of Scripture, men- 
 tioning even the chapter and verse ; he can read any book in Latin, 
 Greek, or Hebrew ; and this good young man is living contentedly 
 on 40/. a year, out of which he has to contribute to the support of 
 his parents. He is educating two young men gratis (for they can- 
 not afford to pay him) for the Episcopal Church, and has a gentle- 
 ness and urbanity of manners which is perfectly wonderful, 
 considering that he has never been farther south than Aberdeen. 
 For a few years Government allowed 100/. per annum to each of the 
 Scotch bishops ; it was called a regium donum. Five years ago it 
 was stopped, with no reason assigned, by this very Government who 
 mean to pension the Papists. Mr. Pressley says this stoppage 
 necessitated Bishop Jolly so much to curtail his charities that it 
 weighed much upon the good man's spirits, and he has stinted 
 himself ever since. At six o'clock I went to drink tea with the 
 Bishop. The old woman brought a teapot with the tea made from 
 her own house, wrapped in a pocket handkerchief, and having laid 
 it on the table, begged a blessing and departed. The Bishop and 
 I (for Mr. Pressley had gone to a Sunday school) then got the cups 
 and saucers from the closet, and drank our tea. He said, ' You see 
 1 am a perfect monk, not from choice, but a wonderful train of 
 Providence placed me in the situation I am in, and I am perfectly 
 happy.' He talked of the reception the bishops met with from the 
 good King George, a print of whom was given him at Edinburgh. 
 ■' But,' said he, pointing to a print of Prince Charles, ' he has been 
 over my fireplace for forty years, and I could not find it in my 
 heart to depose him.' So he has placed the king in the next 
 honourable situation, between the effigies of Archbishop Laud and 
 Archbishop Sancroft. I said that I wanted a copy of the Scotch 
 Episcopal Communion Service, and asked where I could get one ; 
 he said he had one by him, and would give it to me. ' I am 
 ashamed,' he said, ' to give you only a little sixpenny pamphlet, 
 but,' looking with affection on his books, ' these are to be a legacy 
 to our poor Church, so I cannot part with them.' I insisted on his 
 writing his name in the little book and this is what he wrote : 
 * Accepted with much goodness by the Rev. \V. F. Hook, from 
 Alexander Jolly, Bishop, whom he delighted by his company in 
 Fraserburgh, Low Sunday, 1825.' I need not tell you that to my 
 dying day I shall value this little book. I could write on this sub- 
 ject for ever, but my paper warns me to conclude. After shaking 
 liands with the dear old Bishop, I knelt down, and never, never
 
 64 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1821- 
 
 shall I forget my feelings when, laying his two hands upon my 
 unworthy head, he said, as if from his heart of hearts, ' My son,, 
 may God Almighty bless you by His Holy Spirit, preserve you 
 from sin and danger, direct and prosper you in all your studies and 
 holy duties, and keep you in His love and favour evermore.' I 
 must add that he wishes that whenever that worthy and venerable 
 man, the archdeacon, writes to the now Bishop Luscombe, he will 
 state that he (Bishop Jolly) will think of him every morning, and 
 pray in great truth for his success. 
 
 The four consecrators of Dr. Luscombe were : Bishop Gleig, 
 the Primus ; Dr. Sandford, Bishop of Edinburgh ; Dr. Skinner, 
 Bishop of Aberdeen ; and Dr. Low, Bishop of Ross and Argyll. 
 The very sight of Dr. Skinner was interesting, for he was a 
 direct link between these peaceful times and one of the most 
 suffering epochs of the Scottish Church. His grandfather, the 
 Rev. J. Skinner, for sixty-four years pastor of Langside, had 
 been imprisoned for six months under the oppressive Act of 
 1748 for the crime of reading the English Liturgy to more than 
 four persons, although he had taken the oaths of allegiance to 
 Government. Large crowds, however, used to gather on Sun- 
 days round the Tolbooth, to whom he preached from the grated 
 window of his cell. His son was afterwards Bishop of Aber- 
 deen, and father of the Bishop who assisted in the consecration 
 of Dr. Luscombe. The object which the Scottish Bishops had 
 in view in consecrating Dr. Luscombe will best be understood, 
 from the concluding words of the Letters of Collation which 
 they delivered to him : 
 
 He is sent by us, representing the Scotch Episcopal Church,, 
 to the continent of Europe, not as a Diocesan Bishop in the 
 modern or limited sense of the word, but for a purpose similar to 
 that for which Titus was left by St. Paul in Crete, that he may 
 'set in order the things that are wanting' among such of the 
 natives of Great Britain and Ireland as he shall find professing to 
 be members of the United Church of England and Ireland and the 
 Episcopal Church in Scotland, and to these may be added any 
 members of the Episcopal Church of America who may chance to 
 be resident in Europe. But as our blessed Lord, when He first 
 sent out His apostles, commanded them, saying, 'Go not into the
 
 -1826 Consecration of Dr. Ltiscomde. 65 
 
 Avay of the Gentiles, and into any city of the Samaritans enter ye 
 not ; but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel,' so we, 
 following so divine an example .... do solemnly enjoin our right 
 reverend brother not to disturb the peace of any Christian Society 
 established as the National Church in whatever nation he may 
 chance to sojourn, but to confine his administrations to British sub- 
 jects and to such other Christians as may profess to be of a Pro- 
 testant Episcopal Church. 
 
 And we earnestly pray God to protect and support him in his 
 arduous undertaking, and to grant such success to his ministry 
 that he may be among those who, having turned many to righteous- 
 ness, shall shine as the stars for ever and ever. 
 
 The sermon preached on this occasion ' elicited great praise 
 from the Scottish Bishops and others who heard it, and was the 
 first production which brought the author into public notice. 
 It is entitled ' An attempt to demonstrate the Catholicism of 
 the Church of England and the other branches of the Episcopal 
 Church.' In force and freedom of style and weightiness of 
 matter, it is a very great advance upon the sermon of 1822. 
 The practical bearing of the sermon upon the matter in hand 
 consisted in demonstrating that, if there was an essential unity 
 between all branches of the Reformed Catholic Church, the 
 appointment of a Bishop by one branch to minister to members 
 of other branches hitherto destitute of such provision could be 
 no intrusion or usurpation. Notwithstanding differences of 
 nationality and position, such as the Church being established 
 in one country and disestablished in another, yet in itself was 
 it one and indivisible ; consequently the English, Scotch, and 
 American members of the Church, clerical and lay, sojourning 
 on the Continent might freely acknowledge the authority of a 
 Bishop duly consecrated and sent forth by any one of the three 
 branches. Neither was there any fear, as some had supposed, 
 that such a Bishop would disturb the foreign Protestants or the 
 Roman Church. 
 
 We seek not (he said), to interfere with, much less to over- 
 throw, any Christian form of worship which may be established by 
 
 ' No. 2 in vol. i. of The Church and her Ordinances. 
 
 F
 
 66 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1821- 
 
 its civil constitution, so long as it tends to promote (as every 
 Christian mode of worship will in a greater or less degree promote) 
 the great ends of virtue, morality, and religion. For ourselves, we 
 lay claim to the privilege of worshipping the Almighty in the manner 
 we conceive to be prescribed by Him, and of keeping clear from 
 what we consider to be error on the one side or on the other,, 
 whether resulting from the innovations of the Protestant or of the 
 Romanist. In this country (Scotland), grateful for the toleration 
 which is afforded to the Reformed Catholic Church, its pious 
 ministers, while they vindicate its doctrines and maintain its dis- 
 cipline, seek not to interfere with the Presbyterian establishment : 
 but although they cannot enter into its communion or attend its 
 services, they duly appreciate its merits in contributing to rear 
 and foster a thinking and religious people. The same sentiments 
 influence us when resident in a country where the Church of Rome 
 is established. Far be from our views that misdirected and fanatic 
 zeal which would seek at all hazards the downfall of even an 
 erroneous mode of Christian worship, reckless of the consequences \ 
 which in removing one stumbling-block may open the door to a 
 thousand others, and let loose passions which war against the spirit 
 of Christianity itself. 
 
 The mission of Bishop Luscombe, however, harmless as 
 such a proceeding would be considered in the present day, ex- 
 cited a great deal of controversy at the time, and was viewed 
 with displeasure and alarm by many good Churchmen on the 
 very grounds which were combated in the sermon quoted above. 
 Many persisted in thinking that a Bishop consecrated by a dis- 
 established Church could have no right to exercise authority 
 over the members of an established Church, although residing 
 out of their country ; and also that his introduction into the 
 dioceses of a Church which was in alliance with the State, and 
 was also a branch, although a corrupt one, of the Catholic 
 Church, could not be justified. Mr. Norris, rector of South 
 Hackney, was one of the most eminent who held these views 
 on the subject, and he expressed them in an article in the 
 ' Christian Remembrancer' for December 1825. Had Christi- 
 anity itself been in danger, then, since salus Ecclesicz suprema 
 lex, he thought the irregularity would have been pardonable.
 
 -1 826 Objections Answered. 67 
 
 but not otherwise. To this article and other adverse criticisms 
 Mr. Hook repUed in the same journal, May 1826. He points 
 out that of the Catholic Church it had been an invariable tenet 
 that the Episcopate was one, and that consequently a member 
 of the Church owed allegiance, not merely to the prelates of 
 the country in which he was born, but to the duly consecrated 
 Bishop of the place in which he might happen to reside. 
 
 With that Bishop he is bound to communicate, notwithstand- 
 ing differences in rites and ceremonies, except where, as in the 
 case of Greece and Rome, they have degenerated into heretical 
 and idolatrous superstition ; for there, as it was ruled by Cyprian 
 and thirty-six other prelates in the case of the Spanish Bishops, 
 Martialis and Basilides, the clergy and people are not only 
 authorised, but in duty bounden, to renounce their allegiance ; and 
 the orthodox Bishops of a neighbouring nation, acting not in their 
 ordinary but in their Catholic character, are permitted to send one 
 of their number to preside over those who may continue in the 
 primitive faith. ... If the Church of England were merely a sect, 
 then indeed it would be necessary for the English abroad on all 
 occasions to apply for sanction to the authorities at home ; but 
 being in fact, when once they have quitted the shores of England, 
 members of the Church at large, their allegiance becomes due, 
 as I said before, not to an English diocesan, but to the Ordinary 
 of the place wherein they reside ; if in Scotland to the Scottish 
 Bishop, if in America to the American Bishop, and so on. When, 
 however, they are resident on the Continent of Europe, there are 
 few places where there is an authority established which they can 
 conscientiously acknowledge, for, as Theodoret observes, 'where 
 Christians are given to the worship of angels ' {d, fortiori of saints) 
 ' they have left the Lord Jesus Christ.' They must therefore, in 
 this case, apply to proper ecclesiastical authority for the appoint- 
 ment of an Ordinary, qualified for the discharge of episcopal 
 functions. The question then is. In whom is that authority 
 vested? 'Simplex'' would answer that they could only apply to 
 the Bishops of England, whereas \ contend that, though I should 
 prefer it, yet this is by no means necessary, and in some cases may 
 be an inexpedient course. Suppose, for instance, I were resident 
 in a town in France, in which there were also resident several 
 
 ' One of his critics who wrote under this name. 
 F 2
 
 68 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 1821- 
 
 Scottish and sev^eral American Episcopalians, ' Simplex,' if not an 
 Erastian, will allow that we should be all of the same communion, 
 and that if any one should refuse to hold communion with the 
 others we should be schismatics. Suppose, also, an American 
 clergyman were to come to reside among us for the purpose of 
 performing divine service, and that, convinced of the irregularities 
 arising from want of an Ordinary, and desirous of securing the 
 rite of Confirmation for our children, we should determine to apply 
 in the proper quarter for the redress of the grievance ; if the 
 Englishman should contend that application should be made to the 
 English bench, and the Scotchman should plead for the Episcopal 
 College in Scotland, the American would think it necessary to 
 uphold the dignity of the prelates in the United States. Each 
 party would, in this instance, be acting on the narrow principles of 
 a sect, and Catholic unity would thus be destroyed. But sinking 
 all national distinctions, they would, if they acted properly and as 
 really Catholic Christians, come to the determination of applying 
 to any lawful authority, capable of judging of the expediency or 
 inexpediency of granting their petition and relieving their wants. 
 Referring to the records of the Church in its primitive and purest 
 ages, they would find that the Christians in those days, when they 
 were in want of a Bishop, did not think it necessary to apply to 
 any particular Church, but to a synod of neighbouring Bishops 
 canonically convened. 
 
 It only remains to say that Bishop Luscombe met with a 
 most cordial reception in France, from the British Ambassador 
 at Paris, and from all members of the Reformed Church 
 abroad ; and if his mission was not ultimately so successful as 
 had been hoped, the failure was due to causes which were not 
 connected with the nature of the mission itself, and into which 
 therefore it is not worth while to enter here. 
 
 LETTERS, 1822-1826. 
 
 Re7ie'wal of Intercourse with his Frieiid William Page Wood. 
 Whippingham, Isle of Wight : March 1822. 
 My dearest Mother, ... I shall now proceed to my own busi- 
 ness, which is, of course, quite and entirely confidential between 
 you and me. After nearly eleven years' friendship, the better
 
 -1826 Letters, 1 822-1826. 69 
 
 half ot Wood's life, and no small portion of mine, it would be use- 
 less to deny that we are both of us impatient to meet once more. 
 If, therefore, the same objection do not still exist, I am sure you, my 
 kind mother, will endeavour, if possible, to procure and accelerate 
 that meeting. Had you not kindly mentioned the subject when 
 last here, I should have given it up as a hopeless case for the 
 present, but since by your mentioning it there must be a possibility, 
 I cannot restrain my feelings so far as not to express my wishes, 
 and to strive to promote an object I have so much at heart. 
 This point, however, I leave to my father's decision, of course. If 
 it is thought expedient that we should not yet meet, then I shall 
 remain here ; for, except for that purpose, I would not sacrifice the 
 solitude, peace, and quiet which I am here enjoying in perfection. 
 But if (as God grant it may be) it is possible, or, rather, expedient, 
 for me to see Wood, I will tell you the plan which sometimes 
 flies athwart my brain as I compose myself to my evening's nap; 
 though it will never be put in execution, forasmuch as I have al- 
 ready enjoyed it in anticipation. I should like to get a parson's 
 holiday, and spend three days with you in town, that I may make 
 a solitary expedition to the Tower, and pay my usual visit to Poet's 
 Comer, and see the Panoramas, and go to Astley's or one of the 
 minor theatres, which is a thing I want to do for sundry reasons. 
 Then I should like to spend three days with clear Aunt Mathison 
 at Hampstead, and after that to go with my father to the visitation ; 
 from thence to Cambridge. All this is very fine talking, you will 
 say, but it is prodigiously dissipated for a parson, and very expen- 
 sive. And yet, if you except the three days in town, when I shall 
 be on a visit to you, the week at Cambridge is not much after four 
 years' absence to those who, for nearly seven years, were scarcely 
 ever four hours absent from one another in a day. 
 
 Invitation to be Steward at a Ball. 
 
 Whippingham : April 1822. 
 
 Mr. H.'s note did not arrive till yesterday, but the answer was 
 in time ; what it was I suppose you have anticipated. I should 
 yerily as much have thought, nay, even more seriously, of going to 
 Jericho than of becoming steward to a ball. I should be worried 
 and bothered myself, and worry and bother everybody else ; and 
 as to my qualification, if I were to dress up one of my father's cows 
 she would perform the duties with infinite more grace and good
 
 70 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 1821- 
 
 humour than I should. Besides, the plague of it would be so great 
 that I should die under it, and it would look very ill upon my tomb- 
 stone to see ' Here lies Walter Farquhar Hook, B.A., student of 
 Christ Church, chaplain to his Grace the Duke of Argyll, and some- 
 time curate of this parish. He died of a ball, universally regretted, 
 on the 23rd day of April 1822, in the 2Sth year of his age.' 
 
 Detestaiion of French Characters. 
 
 ' Conduct is Fate ' I cannot read. I am too much of a John 
 Bull to take any interest in Monsieurs and Mademoiselles, and I 
 suppose the heroine is a Frenchwoman ; and how could I take 
 any interest in the adventures of a woman bom and bred in that 
 country where Bonaparte tyrannised, and that atheistical villain 
 Voltaire spat his dirty venom at Shakspeare. 
 
 Law's ' Serious call^ 
 
 Whippingham, Cowes, Isle of Wight : May 5, 1824. 
 
 My dearest Brother, ... I have lately been reading a book the 
 Dean of Winton gave me. Law's ' Serious Call.' I had not read it for 
 several years ; it is a book exquisitely written, and written in sucK a 
 manner that I defy anybody to read it without being interested. Dr. 
 Johnson when he was at Oxford took it up, expecting to find it a dull 
 book, and perhaps to laugh at it. These are his own words, but, says 
 he, ' I found Law an overmatch for me, and that was the first occa- 
 sion of my thinking in earnest of religion, after I became capable of 
 rational inquir}'.' Now of this book I intend always to read a 
 chapter every morning ; I am sure it will be of advantage through 
 the whole day ; and if you will do the same, you have only to order 
 it at Rivingtons, and place it on your bookshelf as a gift from a 
 devotedly attached brother. You will think the first day that he 
 commands impossibilities, but you will on the second day think 
 those impossibilities less impossible ; and I pray God to grant us 
 both His grace that we may both go on thus improving every day. 
 You will, I am sure, take in good part this wee-bit prose. You 
 know me, you know how weak I am, how easily I have yielded, 
 and still yield, to temptation. You have always been my friend 
 and confidant. I tremble often at the thoughts of the future, and I 
 have been tempted to despair of the mercy of God ; but on that 
 niercy I have now learned wholly and solely to rely, through my 
 blessed Redeemer, and humbly I pray that I may finally be
 
 -i826 Letters, 182 2-1 826. 71 
 
 triumphant over those evil thoughts and wicked passions which too 
 often assail me. I pray the same for you, my dear Robert, and I 
 •entreat you to join in the prayer. 
 
 The three letters which follow relate to a visit to London 
 to see Dr. Hobart, the Bishop of New York, and will perhaps 
 be better understood if prefaced by a few words of explanation. 
 Before the declaration of Independence in 1783, the Church 
 in America had nominally been subject to the episcopal 
 supervision of the Bishop of London. Commissaries were sent 
 over by him from time to time, and very ineffectually as a rule 
 did they discharge their work. After the establishment of the 
 Republic it became necessary for the American Church, if it 
 was to be episcopal at all, to obtain Bishops for itself. Dr. 
 Seabury was sent over to England in 1785 to seek consecration 
 from the Archbishop of Canterbury • but the prelates of the 
 Established Church were afraid of taking the step, lest it should 
 involve the English Government in difficulties with the 
 American Republic, which had just been recognised. Dr. 
 Seabury accordingly was consecrated by the prelates of the 
 Scotch Church. Three other Bishops were afterwards con- 
 secrated in England, the political impediments having been 
 surmounted. The American Church, thus refounded, set 
 about adapting itself to the altered condition of things with 
 laudable zeal and wisdom ; but for some time it had to contend 
 against misrepresentation, obloquy, and suspicion, and it was 
 sinking into an unsatisfactory state of supineness when in 1798 
 John Henry Hobart was ordained to the ministry. He quickly 
 began to rouse the Church into vigorous action, and in 181 1, 
 at the age of thirty-six, he was consecrated Bishop of New York. 
 I will conclude these remarks by an extract from a lecture on 
 the American Church given by Dr. Hook in Leeds, in which 
 he alludes to the visit mentioned in the letters below. 
 
 ' For several years the moral persecution which Bishop 
 Hobart had to endure depressed his spirits, but never for a 
 moment slackened his energies. Every kind of falsehood was 
 invented to blacken his name, and for a time he had to fight 
 almost single-handed the battle of the Church. But by degrees
 
 72 Life of Walter Fa^^quhar Hook. 182 1- 
 
 friends rallied round him, they increased in number, they gave 
 him their confidence; he lived down his enemies. Long before 
 his death he had the happiness — and a greater happiness man 
 can scarcely enjoy — of counting among his supporters and 
 friends some who had been at one time his bitter opponents. 
 Even among those who still thought it their duty to pursue a 
 course of conduct different from that which suggested itself to 
 him, many regarded him in private with feelings of friendship ; 
 and in the various denominations which at one time had gone 
 out of their way to oppose him, many so much admired his 
 wisdom, his foresight, and his energy, that they were now ready 
 to admit that they were prepared to take him for their model, 
 and to bring his principles of energetic action to bear on those 
 very denominational peculiarities which he most condemned. 
 
 'In 1823, worn out and fatigued with his many anxieties 
 and cares, he visited Europe ; and he was received in England 
 with those feelings of admiration and respect which he so fully 
 deserved. 
 
 ' I was at that time a curate in the Isle of Wight. There 
 were no railroads and very few steamboats, and travelling there- 
 fore was expensive ; but though I could ill afford it, I journeyed 
 to London on a cold November day on the top of the coach to 
 receive at the end of my journey the blessing of a man whom I 
 admired, respected, and revered. I found him in the grandeur 
 of his simplicity as ready to open his full mind to a young 
 curate as he would have been to a person of his own age and 
 station. He prided himself, and went out of his way to show 
 it, on being a Republican ; and the mixture of Republican with 
 High Church principles perplexed not a few among those who 
 approached him, and who confounded the Church with the 
 Establishment. He gave some offence by preferring his own 
 branch of the Church to ours on those matters of detail in 
 which a disestablished Church must differ from an Establish- 
 ment. He told me that the cause of the Church was retarded 
 in America at that time by the fact that many narrow-minded 
 persons still felt that there must be, on the part of the Episco- 
 palians, a secret attachment to the principles of the English
 
 -i826 Letters, 1822-1826. 75 
 
 monarchy, which was treason to American republicanism. He 
 wished, while showing and proclaiming his devoted attachment 
 to the Church of England, to prove in his own person that he 
 could be a loyal citizen of the United States. From that time 
 the progress of the Church in the United States has been rapid 
 and satisfactory.' 
 
 Bishop Hobart and the Aine7zca7t Church. 
 
 16 St. James's Street, London : November 1823. 
 
 My dearest Father, — I write to request a veiy great favour of 
 you. The Right Reverend Father in God John Henry Hobart, 
 Bishop of New York, has arrived in England, and is, I hear, stay- 
 ing at Mr. Norris's. Now, as I know that you are acquainted with 
 Mr. Norris, I should feel, if it is not improper, the greatest possible 
 pleasure in having an introduction given me to him. If you think 
 this no improper intrusion, and you can send me a letter of intro- 
 duction by return of post, I can easily go by the stage to Hackney 
 some day next week. Few people, I flatter myself, in England are 
 better acquainted than I am with the history of the Apostolic 
 Church in America. I have been making, since I have been in 
 town, a close abstract of Bishop White's history of that Church, 
 published only in America, and I think I shall be able to afford you 
 some entertainment and information on that subject when we meet. 
 It is so interesting a history that really, were I a little older, and a 
 deeper divine, I should instantly set to work, and from my notes, 
 the appendix to Bishop White, and my conversations with Mr. 
 Wheaton, I should publish a short account of it. With these feel- 
 ings, you will not wonder that I would strain a point to get an in- 
 troduction to Bishop Hobart. I have frequently met the Dean of 
 Winton, and I always join him to talk a little High-Churcher5\ 
 He is quite as delighted with the Apostolic Church in America as 
 I am. I am more particularly interested in the subject, as it will 
 cause Episcopacy to be better understood in England by the gene- 
 rality of persons. 
 
 Mistaken for Bishop Hobart. 
 
 16 St. James's Street : November 12, 1823. 
 
 My dearest Mother, ... I can give you but little family news. 
 I went to Hackney yesterday. When I arrived at Mr. Norris's I 
 was received by his servant with the most marked and peculiar
 
 74 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook 1821- 
 
 respect ; he told me that Mr. N. was out, but that he would return 
 soon, and entreated me to sit in the library while he sent to town 
 for his master. By this time several of the other servants had 
 collected round the door, and the maids were looking out of 
 window. I said that I would not permit Mr. N. to be sent for, 
 when the servant told me that his master would never forgive him 
 if he sent not for him express. I then said I would walk about 
 Hackney and call again in the course of an hour, when the servant 
 begged me to leave my name. Alas ! on seeing my card, and on 
 finding that I was a simple presbyter, all his respect and admira- 
 tion vanished. He then said that Mr. N. was gone to town to 
 fetch Bishop Hobart, Bishop of New York. 'We thought,' quoth 
 he, 'that you, sir, were the Bishop.' You cannot think how I was 
 flattered by this, and no Bishop, of either Scotland or America, 
 could have assumed more episcopal dignity when surrounded by 
 moody Covenanters or hostile sectarians, than I assumed when 
 perambulating the streets of Hackney. I called again on Mr. 
 Norris, who had not met the Bishop, who was detained in town by 
 business with the American ambassador. This, and the mis- 
 carriage of his letters, in which he had arranged that the Bishop 
 should, like the apostles of old, be ' brought by the Church ' all the 
 way from Dover to London — that is, that he should sleep and stay 
 -at the houses of different clergymen on the road — these things, I 
 say, had evidently put him a little out of sorts ; and although he 
 was particularly civil, I did not get from him all that information 
 which I expected, nor did he even offer me the loan of the official 
 papers of the American Church. By the way, if my father thinks 
 it practicable, and I can get at the ' Quarterly ' through Croker, I 
 think of drawing up an article for that review from my knowledge 
 •of the American Church. It can be done in the shape of a review 
 on Bishop Dehon's sermons, and I think it may be rendered 
 instructive, interesting, and useful. 
 
 Meeting ivith Bishop Hobart. 
 
 16 St. James's Street, London : November 13, 1823. 
 My dearest Mother, ... I have just come from that great and 
 good man, Bishop Hobart. To be sure, I went predisposed to 
 like him ; but my expectations were surpassed beyond expression. 
 His spirit, his vivacity, his judgment, are striking even in half an 
 iiour's conversation. His sober but zealous piety ; his strong
 
 -1826 Letters, 1822-1826. 75 
 
 vehement, but tempered orthodoxy ; his veneration for our Church, 
 his candour with respect to his own, have won my heart. And 
 when he told me that he had read my father's charge, in New York, 
 I could not help giving him an invitation to Whippingham ; when 
 he expressed his pleasure at the prospect of an introduction to the 
 archdeacon, but he feared that his health would not permit him to 
 visit us at present, as he would have to go south ; but on his return 
 he promises to come. Alas, I fear that you will be away at that 
 time. There is no difference in his appearance from that of a 
 simple presbyter, nor is his exterior veiy polished, but there is a 
 strong, marked expression in his face which speaks of one who has 
 stood firm in the hour of peril, and who has fought, and will 
 fight, the good fight, ay, and (for God is on his side) will event- 
 ually prevail over all his enemies. Gilbert says that the respect 
 with which he is treated at New York is wonderful; that even the 
 Evangelicals who differ from him are forced to acknowledge the 
 pre-eminent sanctity of his character and the sobered zeal of his 
 religion. Nay, Gilbert has even been asked by Presbyterians, 
 'Have you seen our Bishop?' and they spoke of him as a great 
 man that he must see before he left New York. Now the Right 
 Reverend Father himself told me in conversation that it was neces- 
 sary that the character of the Bishop should be upholden, as the 
 Republicans would all be very willing to carp at and deny the 
 necessary respect due to the office. I felt, of course, the awe and 
 respect which a presbyter ought to feel in the presence of a Bishop ; 
 but he was very condescending, and seemed to think that the 
 honour was rather conferred on him than on me. I wish I was 
 settled in the neighbourhood of town, for I long to be dabbling in 
 High-Churcher)'. However, my day is not yet come ; I shall one 
 day or other hope to be a bulwark of the Church. In the mean- 
 time, I must lay deeper the foundation, which has been too much 
 neglected. 
 
 I shall be glad to return to you all — sweet and peaceful Whip- 
 pingham, my family, the school, the parish. 
 
 Whippingham, Isle of Wight : June 5, 1825. 
 My dearest Robert, — I do from my heart wish you many, many 
 happy returns of the day, whether, as it is doubtful, to-day or to- 
 morrow be your real birthday.^ To-day I dine with Lord Henry, 
 
 - Because Robert was born so near midnight that it was difficult to de- 
 termine to which day his birth belonged.
 
 76 Life of Walter Farqtthar Hook. 1821- 
 
 and I shall propose your health. To-morrow, to make assurance 
 doubly sure, I will drink it in my toast and water, which is my 
 strongest beverage, except on Sundays, when I take a glass of 
 wine. I will do what is more, I will make peculiar mention of 
 you, my dear, dear brother, in my private prayers, and especially 
 to-morrow, which is, I believe, your proper birthday, when I shall 
 have an opportunity of doing so in the most solemn rite of the 
 Church, as I have appointed that day for the private administration 
 of the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper to a rich parishioner. And 
 if the present dissipation of London has not too much disordered 
 your thoughts, if you are fully prepared, I would advise you not 
 only to form good resolutions upon your birthday, but to confirm 
 them by receiving that sacrament as soon after as you possibly 
 can. There is an administration of it every Sunday at St. 
 Martin's. If you are not prepared, then the question is, why are 
 you not 1 and I would advise you just to look at the quotation 
 from Dr. Andrewes's sermon as given by Judge Park in his excel- 
 lent little work upon the Sacrament ; at the end. 
 
 Advice to a Young Man of Business. 
 
 Whippingham, Cowes : December 6, 1825. 
 
 My dearest , — If I may be allowed to give you a little 
 
 advice, it is simply this, to confine your attention almost exclusively 
 to one point and one subject ; that is, your profession. No man 
 ever succeeded in any one thing whose thoughts were not exclu- 
 sively devoted to it. Let all your readings bear upon this point ; 
 make yourself thoroughly master of one subject (and no man can 
 hope to be master of more), and general knowledge will flow in 
 wonderfully, where you least expect it. I should say that your fault 
 is a desire to be able to say something of everything. You have many 
 irons in the fire, but not one red-hot. You dogmatise upon every sub- 
 ject, whether you understand it or not, and I think sometimes take 
 up opinions at second hand. I was struck with this when you 
 were with us ; there were some points on which I had intended to 
 have gained information from you, but whenever I alluded to them, 
 I found that you knew nothing of particulars ; and had only a 
 gejteral, that is to say, a confused notion upon them ; I therefore 
 did not press them. If you wish for proof of the truth of 
 this charge, just ask yourself upon what single point I could 
 consult you as an authority, and yet again on what single subject
 
 -i826 Letters, 182 2-1 826. "j^ 
 
 would you not hazard an opinion. If you wish to succeed in any 
 profession, the thing is, to make yourself completely and entirely 
 master of every subject relating to it. This is, of course, the work 
 of time ; and then upon that subject you may be justified in dog- 
 matising if you please ; on all others be silent in most instances, in 
 all speak with diffidence. There is another point on which I wish 
 to prose you ; you have very good abilities and a very sound 
 judgment, if you were pleased to exercise them, but you now seem 
 to regard the opinion of any person of great name as law, and 
 immediately adopt it as your own. When you are struck with any 
 opinion or sentiment, ponder on it seriously, reflect on it, and 
 judge for yourself whether there be not some error in it ; until you 
 are able to decide thoroughly upon it, never sport it as your own. 
 A man of real talents would never do so under any circumstances. 
 You should always remember that pretenders to genius are fond of 
 starting a paradox to make fools stare ; but they never do so with- 
 out supporting it with a specious argument. He who professes to 
 hold an opinion and yet cannot support it, is considered not very 
 wise. Again, if a person lays down the law upon a subject, and 
 when questioned is found to know really little or nothing upon it, 
 that person is noted as a superficial fellow. All this lecture 
 amounts to this : Human nature is such that it is scarcely possible 
 for a man to be thoroughly master of more than one subject, though 
 he devote his life to it; if he is not master of some one subject, 
 thoroughly master, he will not succeed, and is not wise. Circum- 
 stances point out the one subject to be studied ; providence has 
 appointed you to be a man of business, and in so doing tells you 
 what it is to which you are exclusively (always excepting the higher 
 claims of religion) to devote your time. 
 
 You seem to wish to have that general knowledge which you 
 hear great talkers lay claim to ; these great talkers are men of 
 quickness who let fly at everjnhing and astonish greater fools than 
 themselves ; but they never fail to expose themselves when talking to 
 those who have really studied any particular subject out of the many 
 which they pretend to understand. I can only judge from my own 
 experience. I know some men that pass for men of talent ; their 
 knowledge of the law, of general literature, of physics, and meta- 
 physics, &c., &c., has astonished me. They have had just as much 
 pretension to theological subjects, the only one on which I am really 
 capable of judging. I have found them upon getting on that topic 
 overbearing and positive, but m.ost awfully ignorant ; those men I
 
 78 Life of Walter Farqtthar Hook. 1821- 
 
 have of course set down as empty pretenders, and I consider them 
 as ignorant on subjects relating to law, physics, metaphysics, &c., 
 as I have found them to be in theology. These people are admired 
 at dinner parties and so forth, but if they had to make their bread 
 by their talents they would be found lamentably deficient. Now to 
 shine in mixed companies is not to be your business, however much 
 vanity may desire it ; it is your duty to become a steady, unpre- 
 tending, well-informed banker. I say, unpretending ; for, depend 
 upon it, where a man knows most there he will be most modest. 
 
 'Whippingham : May 9, 1826. 
 
 My dearest Mother, — I have no patience with in making 
 
 such a fool of himself A boy of sixteen, with his head full of 
 Ovid, Tibullus, and Catullus, would not be guilty of such folly. I 
 would advise him like Romeo to look out for a new mistress in the 
 first pretty face he meets, and Rosalind will be soon forgotten in 
 the superior charm of Juliet. ' Tut, man, one fire burns out 
 another burning ; take thou some new infection to thine eye, and 
 the rank poison of the old will die.' Shakspeare does well to call 
 such love ' fancy.' It is in my opinion all a pack of nonsense. I 
 do not mean to say that all love is nonsense, but such a kind of 
 
 ideal love as 's, unrequited, and for a person whose character 
 
 he does not know, is quite nonsense in any but a child. Tell ■ 
 
 all this, and add with my love that I think him a blockhead. 
 
 Expected I\Ieeling with Agents of Religious Tract Society. 
 
 Whippingham, Cowes, Isle of Wight : June 9, 1826. 
 
 My dearest Mother, ... I so fully expected to have seen you 
 to-day that I am sadly disappointed at your non-arrival. I am so 
 full of St. Andrew's, and am building such churches in the air, that 
 I long to talk over all my schemes with you and my beloved father. 
 Welcome, therefore, doubly welcome will you be to this beautiful 
 abode of black-beetles and crickets ; it will certainly reconcile me 
 to our departure that we shall at least escape those odious com- 
 panions, since one or two have paid me a visit in bed. I dread 
 them as much ' as a sick girl.' I have much to say, but I cannot 
 write now; I am in what we used to call at school 'a blue funk,' 
 for I am to be attacked by two heretics to-day, at 4 p.m. The 
 challenge was conveyed in the following anonymous note, received
 
 -1 826 Letters, 182 2-1 826. 79 
 
 yesterday : ' An auxiliary to the Religious Tract Society having, 
 been lately formed at West Cowes, the committee respectfully pre- 
 sent the enclosed (to wit, a pamphlet) to the Rev. W. F. Hook, 
 soliciting his approval and assistance. Two of the collectors will 
 wait on Mr. H. to-morrow, at 4 o'clock p.m., to receive his answers.' 
 
 Now as I live on very good terms with Mrs. , Mrs. Gibbs, Mrs^ 
 
 Brown, &c., and even go so far as to shake hands with them, they 
 suspect me, I suppose, of heresy ; but I shall content myself with 
 telling them very plainly that I cannot, consistently with my 
 principles, interfere with the religious institutions of any parish 
 except my own ; or patronise a society established for religious 
 purposes, unless it be under the official superintendence of my 
 Diocesan ; and thus I shall decline all argument. But as the 
 Apostle tells me to beware of false prophets who come to me in 
 sheep's clothing, because inwardly they are ravening wolves, I have 
 ordered the deacon, on his allegiance to a priest of the Church of 
 Winchester, to attend the conference. These little breezes in a 
 quiet life are verj'- pleasant, but nevertheless, as I said before, I anx 
 in a bit of a ' funk,' and can wTite of nothing else. 
 
 Interview with Agents of Religious Tract Society. 
 
 Cowes, Isle of Wight : June 13, 1826. 
 
 My dearest Mother, . . . When I wrote to you last, I believe 
 I informed you that I expected an interview with some schismatics ; 
 at the appointed hour they came, and I asked them whether they had 
 applied to the Bishop officially on their entering his diocese, and 
 whether the Society was placed under his direction. On their 
 answering in the negative, I told them that I could not, consistently 
 with my feelings and principles as a clergyman of the Church of 
 England, sanction a society professedly established for a religious 
 purpose, unless it were placed officially under the direction of my 
 Diocesan. I told them also that the Bishop is the ordinary minister 
 of God over the whole diocese, and that we only preside over our 
 respective parishes under his superintendence, and consequently 
 that all things relating to religion through the whole district must 
 be under his guidance. I quoted one or two passages from St. 
 Ignatius, who was consecrated a Bishop by the Apostles them- 
 selves, to show that this was no new rule ; but that, in the very 
 first age of the Gospel the law was, that nothing was to be done 
 without the Bishop, that we were to obey the Bishop, &c. Thus I
 
 So Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1821- 
 
 gave them to understand that it was as much a point of conscience 
 ■with me, when presiding over this parish, to oppose, as I had no 
 doubt it was with them, to support, the Tract Society. As I said 
 all this very civilly, wishing indeed, in a quiet way, while accounting 
 for my own principles, to convince them of the error of theirs, they 
 were not at all offended, but they stated, that owing to Mr. Nick- 
 son's having given his sanction at West Cowes, they had obtained 
 so very many subscribers, that they were anxious also to obtain 
 my support, and they hoped that (although they saw that I could 
 not conscientiously belong to the Society) I would not oppose their 
 proceedings, as they pledged themselves to circulate nothing but 
 the essentials of Christianity. I then told them that I did not in- 
 tend to discuss any particular points, but I was afraid that we could 
 not agree as to what were the essentials of Christianity ; for in- 
 stance, I asked them if they worshipped the same God as myself, 
 One Being in a Trinity of Persons, the Trinity in Unity. They 
 seemed shocked at my doubting this, and I begged their pardon, 
 telling them that I always act firmly upon the principles of the 
 Church of Christ, and not troubling myself with the tenets of others, 
 I might naturally be ignorant on that point. They held also the 
 doctrine of the Atonement. But when I asked if they held the 
 Sacraments to be ordinary means of grace, they were silent ; and 
 they were also silent, of course, when I asked them if they believed 
 in the Divine Institution of the Church. I then observed that these 
 were essentials, according to my faith ; and I dared not pre- 
 sumptuously declare which, of things that God pronounced to be 
 essential, is the most essential, although I would by no means 
 condemn those who were so unfortunate as not to believe all. Yet, 
 even if my former objection were overcome, I could not support a 
 society which taught only part of what I believe to be essential, 
 as sufficient. 
 
 They then described the mighty good which had been done, 
 the number of drunkards reclaimed, &c., by the Society. Without 
 denying that much good might have resulted, I asked them whether 
 they thought that I might do what I considered evil that good 
 might come. Besides which, I asked them whether these persons 
 did not owe their conversion to the grace of God, at which they 
 exclaimed yes ; ' then I believe that He would not have left them 
 unconverted, but other means would have been found if their 
 minds had been prepared, even if this Society had not existed.' In 
 short I told them that it was no use talking of the good done by
 
 _i826 Letters, 1822-1826. 
 
 the Society when I thought it wrong to belong to it, for that would 
 be, as I said before, to argue on a Popish principle (and I abhor 
 all Popery), that the end sanctifies the means. I offered them re- 
 freshment, and lionised them all over the garden ; and we parted 
 the best friends imaginable. 
 
 Whippingham : August 7, 1826. 
 
 My dearest Robert, — If tears were guineas, you should be re- 
 lieved from all your difficulties immediately, for I cried very much 
 at your letter. You must, however, keep your mind composed, 
 for it is madness to add to real grievances by fretting about 
 them. Do endeavour, my dear, to bear up like a man under your 
 present pressure ; and to be able to do so, address your mind to 
 God in prayer. It is of no use to fall down on your knees when 
 you are visited by misfortune, unless you determine in your heart 
 to lead a strictly religious life for the time to come. Recollect 
 that by a religious man no one single sin is to be permitted, tole- 
 rated, or even winked at. Sins of weakness, sins unpremeditated, 
 committed through the strength of temptation, will be pardoned 
 upon repentance ; but he who does not intend in all things to strive 
 to the utmost to do his duty, can have no pretence whatever to be 
 called religious. I say this, because now is the time seriously to 
 form good resolutions ; and because, in becoming religious, you 
 not only lay up a store of happiness hereafter, but secure it here. 
 Virtue, says a celebrated writer, is happiness in hand, and heaven 
 in reversion.
 
 82 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1826- 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 LIFE AT MOSELEY AND BIRMINGHAM. 
 A.D. 1826-1829. 
 
 In the spring of 1825 Archdeacon Hook was appointed to the 
 Deanery of Worcester ; and, although he did not take up his 
 abode at Worcester before the following year, the pleasant home 
 at Whippingham had to be broken up. His son's plans were 
 unsettled for some time. It was at first proposed that he should 
 be Curate of Stone (a country living near Worcester, held at 
 that time with the Deanery), and also act as Chaplain to 
 St. Oswald's Hospital in Worcester. His fancy was much cap- 
 tivated by this project ; it seemed to offer that combination of 
 retirement and activity which was most to his tdste. In May 
 1826 he writes, ' I know not any situation which is so likely to 
 suit me. Whilst living in perfect seclusion — a kind of monastery 
 — I shall yet be able, when I find it dull at home, to enjoy a 
 little family society at the Deanery.' This plan, however, fell 
 through. 
 
 The next scheme was to get the living of St. Andrew's in 
 Worcester for him. To this also he was quite favourable, for 
 he began to think that much leisure in a small country parish 
 might foster in him habits of indolence and dreaminess, to 
 which he still considered himself too prone. 
 
 My wish and desire is to be guided wholly by my dear 
 father's judgment. I am, however, sure of one thing, that it is both 
 for my interest and my happiness to be actively engaged in my 
 vocation : for my interest, because being naturally of a heavy, indo- 
 lent habit, I want continual excitement to keep me awake ; and for
 
 -1829 Life at Moseley. 8 
 
 v5 
 
 my happiness, for I grow every day more and more exclusively de- 
 voted to my clerical pursuits ; so much so, indeed, that nothing affords 
 me pleasure except as it is connected with them. I am afraid that a 
 small parish, much as I have speculated upon it in lazy moments, 
 would after all be the worst thing for me in the world ; for, although 
 I should still employ myself diligently in the speculative, I should 
 soon grow careless in the active, parts of my profession ; and habits 
 are cjuickly formed. 
 
 The fact is that literary occupation to which he turned with 
 such energy and zeal in his old age was always the kind of 
 work to which his natural inclination most powerfully gravitated 5 
 but the pastoral vein was also strong, and an equally strong 
 sense of duty being thrown into that scale turned the balance in 
 its favour. Hence that remarkable combination of literary and 
 pastoral activity which we shall find so conspicuous in the 
 whole of his subsequent career down to the time of his retire- 
 ment from Leeds. He was first and foremost, from the time 
 of which we are now speaking, a diligent parish priest ; but he 
 ever considered it a principal part of his duty as a parish priest 
 not only to exhort, reprove, and console, but also to teach, and 
 he never forgot that he who would teach must learn. He was 
 therefore an indefatigable student, and from his study, day by 
 day, he went out into his parish full of ideas to be imparted to 
 others, and carried forward to some practical issue. 
 
 After the failure of several plans, he was appointed to the 
 perpetual curacy of Moseley, near Birmingham, to his entire 
 satisfaction. 
 
 ' At the thought of Moseley,' he writes in June 1826, ' I felt the 
 spirit (without the powers) of Athanasius and Horsley rising within 
 me, and a very pugnacious desire of grappling with the descendants 
 of Priestley and jousting with the humanitarians of Birmingham.' 
 
 In fact, he was getting so eager for work that he hardly cared 
 Avhere he went. Even as late as October there seems to have 
 been some new proposal that Moseley should be given to a 
 cousin, and something else found for him ; upon which he writes 
 that he was quite willing to surrender Moseley ; 
 
 * Only I am so tired of my holiday that a cure of souls I must 
 G 2
 
 84 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1826- 
 
 and will have ere long, even though I take it gratis. I should not 
 at all object to taking a curacy in one of those delightful churches 
 in Birmingham ; indeed I should particularly like it. For although 
 there are good preachers in Birmingham the services of the Church 
 are shamefully conducted. ... I wish to goodness the rectors 
 \\ould think less of preaching, and more of having the liturgy rightly 
 performed.' 
 
 The end of October, however, saw him fairly established at 
 Moseley, now a suburb of Birmingham, but at that time a quiet 
 country village nearly four miles distant from the town. He 
 was delighted with the aspect of it. 
 
 It is just the place (he says) where I can live and die in peace 
 and seclusion, which is all I want. We have a capital shop in the 
 village where meat and beer, and cheese and eggs, and whipcord 
 and thread, and tops, and gingerbread, and garden stuff and 
 butter and milk and cream, and almost everything, are sold. Now 
 I have turned these good people also into booksellers, and as soon 
 as I have finished this scratch I am going off to them with the 
 Society's Bibles and Prayer Books, and as I ivill undersell the 
 Bible Society, even though the money conies, as it will, out of my 
 own pocket, I shall persuade the ' Missus ' to buy them of me, offer- 
 ing the books at 5 per cent, below the Bible Society's price. 
 
 His stipend was only 150/., and as he wished to spend liberall) 
 upon parochial matters he measured his personal expenses on 
 the most frugal scale. He drank raspberry vinegar instead of 
 wine, and frequently eat pork instead of beef and mutton, which 
 were then considered very dear, he writes, at 8^. and i\d. a 
 pound. He declared himself a confirmed bachelor, not only, 
 however, because he could not afford to marry, but for another 
 and singular reason : that he should wish his wife, if he had one, 
 to conform to the model of George Herbert's pastor's wife, of 
 whom one indispensable qualification was to be that she should 
 cure and heal all the wounds and sores of the parishioners with 
 her own hands. ' Now I never could bear to have these 
 dressed with my wife's hands ; therefore I must remain a 
 bachelor. ' 
 
 With his sermons he began to take very gTeat pains, es- 
 pecially as Socinians abounded in the parish and neighbour-
 
 -1829 Life at AToseley. 
 
 hood, and not a few came to his church. ' I am now reading 
 very hard,' he writes in IMay 1827, 'to prepare myself to state 
 and enforce the Catholic doctrine concerning the Third Person 
 on Whit Sunday, and that of the hypostatic union on the Sun- 
 day following. I am going to Birmingham this morning for the 
 jjurpose of getting the works of Athanasius, and Bishop Horsley's 
 tracts.' 
 
 The practical work Avhich occupied him most during the 
 summer of 1827 was the foundation of a village school. On 
 June 18 he writes to his mother : — 
 
 I write a few lines lest you should be anxious, but I have not 
 time for much. I have been on my legs since seven o'clock this 
 morning all over Birmingham and its vicinity to persuade some 
 landholder to sell us the eighth of an acre of land for building upon ; 
 hut I have not yet succeeded. We have a meeting on Friday, and 
 Avhat with computing the expenses, talking over my neighbours, 
 preaching two sermons to convince the rich of the necessity of 
 establishing schools, drawing up resolutions, superintending the 
 plans and estimates of builders, applying to everyone who thinks 
 himself a gentleman and soliciting his support, I am pretty busy ; 
 but I never was in my life in better health and spirits, and I am 
 sure that I never was happier, for I feel that I am just in my 
 element. 
 
 It must be owned that the laity of the neighbourhood seem 
 to have been far from enthusiastic in the work, but the energy 
 and resolution of the young curate at length succeeded in 
 breaking down all obstacles. ' I have at last persuaded the 
 good people,' he says, 'that what is represented as utterly 
 impossible does sometimes come to pass.' His squire, Mr. 
 Taylor, let half an acre on a lease of ninety-nine years at a 
 guinea rent, and the building was soon begun. His first experi- 
 ence of opposition from members of the extreme Evangelical 
 party began in connexion with this undertaking. They are com- 
 monly designated the 'saints' in his letters of this period. 
 There was no kind of opposition which irritated and vexed him 
 more than this ; but he met it with much forbearance, and for 
 the most part foiled his assailants with considerable dexterity.
 
 86 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1826- 
 
 One old Saint (he writes) has annoyed me much. He appeared 
 to appro\e the plan until the day of our meeting, and then all at 
 once he sent me a note containing a statement of sundry difficulties 
 in the way of the proposed establishment, and resigning into my 
 hands the accounts of the Sunday school and evening lecture. As 
 to his objections I passed by them with contemptuous silence ; and 
 as to the accounts I returned them, stating that I had no intention 
 to take upon myself the office of treasurer to the Sunday schools ; 
 that if he wished to call a meeting of the subscribers and resign his 
 office into their hands, I should have no objection to permit a 
 notice to that effect to be given in the church, and, upon their 
 appointment, to take the office ; but even then I would not receive 
 any unaudited accounts, which has brought Mr. Saint to his right 
 senses, and pleased the subscribers because it looks business-like. 
 I have indeed stolen a march on the ' saints ' by converting an old 
 widow lately who was once their leader. 
 
 She had consulted him about supporting the Bible Society, 
 and he had convinced her that it was based on unsound prin- 
 ciples. He now intended to put her at the head of his list of 
 school visitors, and employ her to counteract any interference 
 on the part of others. It was his customary policy, as soon as 
 he had made an impression on anyone's mind, to lose no time 
 in giving him work of some kind to do, in which the newly in- 
 culcated principles might be strengthened by exercise. 
 
 In August of this year he paid a visit to his friends the 
 Wards in the Isle of Wight, and assisted in the Sunday service 
 at Whippingham, where the Rev. James Ward was now curate 
 in charge. When he preached in the afternoon, not only the 
 church but the churchyard was crowded ; all the windows of 
 the church being set open, so that many persons outside, owing 
 to his strong, clear voice, could hear most of the sermon ; and 
 when he left the church the path to the rectory was lined with 
 his old parishioners. An eye-witness said it was one of the most 
 interesting and affecting sights he ever beheld. 
 
 About the same time he accepted the offer of a Lectureship 
 at St. Philip's, Birmingham, Dr. Gardener, Canon of Lichfield, 
 being the rector, and entered upon his duties there in September. 
 
 The stipend was 250/. per annum, so he was enabled to
 
 -1829 Work in Birmingham. 87 
 
 keep a curate at Moseley ; though he did not spare himself, 
 for, after walking or riding four miles into Birmingham, visiting 
 the sick or the schools there, and returning to Moseley, he 
 would frequently walk two miles or more about that parish. 
 
 One evil custom connected with the mode of conducting 
 the Burial Service had prevailed in Moseley, with which he and 
 his curate resolutely refused to comply, though it involved a 
 sacrifice of fees amounting to about 20/. a year. That part of 
 the funeral service which is appointed to be read in the church 
 had been commonly omitted, unless the officiator received a 
 hatband or half a guinea. The bodies of the poor were, as a 
 consequence, very rarely taken into the church, until Mr. Hook 
 abolished this odious and shameful distinction between poverty 
 and wealth. 
 
 In the latter part of October 1827 Dr. Gardener was dan- 
 gerously ill, and Mr. Hook thought that in the event of death it 
 might be his duty to reside altogether in Birmingham. ' Dr. 
 G.'s successor,' he writes, 'would do everything in his power to 
 render my situation disagreeable,' and thus to force me to 
 resign ; but of that I should be very regardless, and, to compare 
 small things with great, I should, like old Hooker, take care that 
 if "right Geneva " was preached in the morning, " right Canter- 
 bury " should be heard in the evening. . . . Old Gabellwas one 
 of my congregation yesterday. He was quite enthusiastic in his 
 eulogy upon my sermon, criticising it just as he used to do my 
 prose tasks at school.' 
 
 The work in Birmingham which engaged most of his time 
 and attention was the establishment of a Penitentiary and the 
 superintendence of schools. An extract from a letter descrip- 
 tive of the proceedings at a committee in connexion with the 
 former work, illustrates very well the attitude which on this and 
 similar occasions he adopted towards Nonconformists. 
 
 I think I have gained some credit by the way in which I have 
 managed the committee. I hav-e insisted that the rector of the 
 
 1 The appointment of St. Philip's being vested in the Bishop, then an 
 Evangelical, Bishop Ryder.
 
 88 Life of Walter FarquJiar Hook. 1826- 
 
 parish in which the Penitentiaiy is situated shall ex officio be a 
 member of any committee, and that the chaplain shall be licensed 
 by the Bishop, which, though of slight use in the present reign, 
 will be a wholesome check when it pleases heaven to remove our 
 present most worthy Diocesan. . . . The ' saints ' want to establish 
 a committee of ladies. This I have resolutely opposed — a female 
 committee always causes squabbling. The 'saints' thought I 
 should oppose any co-operation with dissenters ; when I observed 
 that if they proposed any such resolution as the one in the Bath 
 Penitentiary, which says that the parochial clerg)'- and ministers of 
 dissenting congregations shall be ex officio members of the com- 
 mittee, I should oppose them most decidedly, because I could not 
 conscientiously admit any proposition which would go to assert 
 the ministerial office of a dissenting teacher. But if they excluded 
 the dissenters from religious interference, I said that I should be 
 among the first to seek the support of that respectable body of 
 men. I added that I would never refuse to co-operate with dis- 
 senters, when I could do so without compromising the principles of 
 the Church, but that I would sacrifice nothing. 
 
 Once a month he devoted the greater part of a day to a 
 careful examination of the schools for poor children in Birming- 
 ham. He mentions in one of his letters that he inspected the 
 Blue Coat School from twelve to one o'clock, the Boys' Na- 
 tional School from two to four o'clock, and the Girls' from four 
 to five o'clock. How he won the hearts of many of the chil- 
 dren may be learned from the following interesting letter, 
 written to me by Mr. Peers, for many years a working silversmith 
 in Birmingham. 
 
 I attended Pinfold Street School in 1828, which stood upon the 
 present site of the London and North Western Railway Station. 
 Dr. Hook was a busy, bustling man, full of life, and a great lover 
 and forwarder of education. Once a month he came down to our 
 school, and after going through it and looking into eveiything, he 
 examined the first class. I was in that class, and we always did 
 our best, because we knew the man and loved him. His examina- 
 tions were thorough and searching ; he warmed to his work, and 
 so did we. When he had finished, he would say, ' Well done, my 
 boys, you are a credit to the school.' 
 
 I never saw the good man again, since the last time that he
 
 -1829 Work in Birmingham. 89 
 
 ■examined the school, but he always took an interest in any of the 
 scholars. He sent me his portrait some years since, which I often 
 look upon with pleasure. God bless him ! I trust we shall meet 
 again in heaven, where he is gone. 
 
 Since I received this letter, I have found another amongst 
 Dr. Hook's papers," addressed to him in 1864 by the same per- 
 son. It was called forth by a letter which had appeared in the 
 * Times,' and had been copied into the 'Birmingham Daily 
 Post,' on the relation of political parties to the Church. This 
 ■will be mentioned more particularly in its proper place. The 
 first part of the letter from his old Birmingham scholar is con- 
 cerned with that subject ; but in the latter part he refers to his 
 boyish recollections of the Curate of Moseley. 
 
 If I mistake not, sir, I ha\e veiy old reasons to respect you. I 
 can remember when I was a little boy, and you took a great in- 
 terest in the Birmingham National School, and when you had ex- 
 amined the first class, in which I was a scholar, you used sometimes 
 to show how pleased you were by emptying your pocket of all your 
 loose silver, to be divided among us. Oh ! those were glorious 
 times. It sometimes came to as much as n^d. each ; and then the 
 consultation as to what we should do with so vast a sum ! No 
 Privy Council was ever more solemn in their discussion ; nor did 
 the Rothschild family ever feel the weight of their riches more 
 than we did ours. 
 
 But somehow the ' hot suck ' shop, at the top of Lease Lane, 
 ^"^enerally got the lion's share of the money. Only once, I remem- 
 ber, we marched in a body to an empty house in High Street, 
 which had been converted into a theatre, to see the ' Babes in the 
 Wood.' That was my first view of scenic representations, and I 
 have to thank you, sir, for many an hour's enjoyment, for it set me 
 reading, and reading has been to me like an extra sense given by 
 the Deity. 
 
 I think you were at the examination when two books were put 
 up as prizes for competition, and I won the first prize. It is lying 
 by my side as I write, and the date is July 20, 1829. I often think 
 of you and the years gone by, and when you bring out a new work, 
 I read the reviews of it in the papers with interest, as I am too 
 poor to purchase the books tliemselves. 
 
 May God give you His blessing, and may you be led by His
 
 90 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1826- 
 
 hand still higher in His Church, to do good to His people, is the 
 sincere wish of your humble servant, 
 
 A. Peers. 
 
 In February 1828 his father died, and the family was left 
 very ill provided for. His mother and sister resided with him 
 for a short time at Edgbaston, and afterwards took a small 
 house at Leamington. 
 
 Lord Lyndhurst, the Chancellor, who was an old school- 
 fellow and friend of his father's, would have given him the rich 
 living of Stone, had it not been promised to Mr. Peel, a brother 
 of the Home Secretary. He offered him, however, the living 
 of 'Stoke Bliss,' in Herefordshire (which was declined), and 
 added, ' I shall be glad if it is in my power on a future occasion 
 still further to assist you. ' 
 
 His Birmingham friends, meanwhile, were in great dread of 
 losing him. A 'round robin' was largely signed in May 1828, 
 entreating the Bishop to give him the living of St. Philip's in 
 the event of Dr. Gardener's death, which then seemed imminent. 
 The committee which organised the movement was a mixed 
 body of leading Tories, Whigs, and Dissenters ; a very remark- 
 able coalition in days just preceding the Reform Bill, when 
 party strife raged with unprecedented bitterness. 'It is a 
 curious thing,' he w-rites, 'that I am popular with the Dissenters, 
 and a great number of them always form part of my afternoon 
 congregation.' 
 
 In August 1828 a letter appeared in one of the Birmingham' 
 papers urging that the stipend of the lectureship at St. Philip's 
 should be augmented by annual subscription, lest the present 
 lecturer should be lost to the parish from the necessity of his 
 seeking a more amply endowed post. ' In my own circle,' the 
 writer says, ' I am acquainted with at least a dozen who eagerly 
 wait for an opportunity of this kind to testify their admiration 
 of the greatest genius that has ever graced the pulpits of our 
 town. Let but the appeal once be made, and I am fully satis- 
 fied that it would not be made in vain.' 
 
 But if the people of one town were anxious not to lose him, 
 the people of another town were equally anxious to gain him
 
 -1829 Offer of Church in Coventry. 91 
 
 Early in the autumn of 1828 the living of Holy Trinity, Coven- 
 try, became vacant, and some of the parishioners lost no time 
 in seeking an interview with him, and begging him to apply to 
 the Lord Chancellor for it. After going over to Coventry with 
 his friend Wood, to survey the church and parish, he deter- 
 mined on making an application to Lord Lyndhurst, through 
 his uncle, Sir Thomas Farquhar, and on October 3rd the 
 Chancellor wrote to him in very friendly terms offering the 
 living. 
 
 Having now completed these early stages in the life of our 
 subject, two features in his character may be noticed which 
 specially distinguish it during this period. First, his humble 
 and reverent submission to authority ; the more remarkable in 
 one whose natural disposition was fiery and impulsive. How- 
 ever much his wishes were at variance with the decisions either 
 of his schoolmasters or his parents in early youth, he never 
 questioned the superiority of their judgment, and never hesi- 
 tated to comply with it. And in like manner as a curate, first 
 under his father and afterwards under Dr. Gardener, he never 
 would act on his own responsibility, but before every step he 
 took he had consulted and obtained the consent of his chief 
 Secondly, whatever position he was called upon to fill he made 
 the best of it ; he saw all its advantages and few of its draw- 
 backs, and discharged the duties of his office with a cheerful 
 persuasion that of all duties in the world they were the 
 pleasantest which could be assigned to him. 
 
 LETTERS, 1827-1828. 
 
 To his Father — Meeting ivitJi Mr. VVilber/orce, the father of 
 Bishop VVilberforce. 
 
 June 4, 1827. 
 
 And now you will wish to know how I, of all men in the world, 
 should have fallen in with Mr. Wilberforce, or Mr. Wilber, as his 
 intimates style him. Since I have been at Moseley, concihation 
 has been the word with me, and the ' saints ' and I are on the best
 
 92 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1826- 
 
 possible terms — I, on the one hand, hoping to convert them, and 
 ihey expecting, on the other, to pervert me ; so a whole gang of 
 their sanctities having come to Birmingham to a Jews' Society on 
 Thursday, I was invited to meet the leaders at dinner at Mr. 
 Palmer's on Friday. I accepted the invitation, and we really had 
 
 a pleasant and even cheerful party. Mr. , the leading ' saint ' 
 
 of Birmingham, and chaplain to my Lord Bishop, had previously 
 called upon me. He is a most delightful man, and I should have 
 some hope of him if his wife were not as full of spiritual pride as 
 an &^'g is of meat. I wished to have a little conversation with 
 Mr. Wilber after dinner, and we gossiped together for some time. 
 He began by recommending me not to study or to take exercise 
 directly after meals, but to take up one of Scott's novels ! which I 
 must own made me stare. We talked on till he alluded to the 
 London University, which he said he had not supported because 
 there was not provision made for religious instruction, although 
 there was to be admission to all parties. He thought those evi- 
 dences might be admitted to which even Socinians would not 
 object. I told him that 1 hoped he would not consider me pre- 
 sumptuous, but I could not go so far with him as that, for the 
 objections would not be removed in my mind if a false religion 
 were allowed to be taught ; that the step he proposed seemed to 
 me to go towards the establishment of Socinianism* ; and that, 
 besides, a Christian has no right to preach part of the truth — he 
 must preach the whole or none ; he must not only preach Christ, 
 but Him crucified. So that I amused myself by attacking the 
 pseudo-Evangelical on really Evangelical grounds, and almost to 
 make him appear as the advocate of Socinianism I He then said 
 that he would agree with me to a certain point, but he thought 
 that since we could not do all the good we wished, we might never- 
 theless do all that was possible for us to do. To this I replied 
 that I agreed in this doctrine, as long as we could do this good by 
 lawful means ; and here, I told him, appeared to me to be the 
 grand difference between his principle and that of those whom I 
 considered to be right ; namely, that we do not solely regard the 
 end, but also attend to the means — that to do a great good we do 
 not consider ourselves justified in acting even a little wrong. He 
 would not allow that such were his principles, but he could not 
 prove the contrary. I then showed him that on his own grounds 
 the good he proposed could not be obtained. The object he hoped 
 to gain was this— that evidence should be brought to prove the
 
 -1 829 Letters, 182 7-1 828. 93 
 
 Scriptures genuine and authentic, and that then, this point gained, 
 we might afterwards convert them by reasoning from Scripture 
 genuine rehgion ; but, I said, suppose the genuineness of the Scrip- 
 tures to be proved, a Socinian lecturer would persuade his auditor)- 
 that our version is incorrect, and if they could not refer to the 
 original they would then have recourse to Mr. Belsham's Bible, 
 and thus be more hardened in their Socinianism. I concluded by 
 stating it as my principle to do right, according to the rules of the 
 Church, and I leave the rest to Providence. He seemed to be 
 much interested in the conversation, for we stood for a long time 
 by ourselves, and we then went to other subjects. He shook me 
 heartily by the hand at parting. Miss Wilberforce received the 
 Sacrament at my hands yesterday. I am afraid, however, that she 
 will take but a bad account of me to her papa, for I gave them a 
 most strong sermon against trusting to religious feelings, and 
 showed that if a zeal for the promotion of religion was not accom- 
 panied with the regular discharge of other duties, or even if it led 
 us into schism, it might be inspired by a lying spirit, and that by 
 our conduct only we could judge of the influence of the Spirit. 
 
 Prospect of a Lectureship at St. Philips, BirmingJiam. 
 
 Moseley, Birmingham : September i8, 1827. 
 
 My dearest Mother, — My spirit is quite up with respect to the 
 Lectureship of St. Philip's, and many are the mighty castles of 
 orthodox utility that I have been building upon the subject. I 
 intend to recall, if possible, the remnant of Dr. Story's scattered 
 friends ; I shall volunteer my services as secretary to the Society 
 for Promoting Christian Knowledge, and by my activity compel 
 the Bishop to give it more decided support. When I am licensed, 
 I shall speak to his lordship about establishing a branch of the 
 Society for Propagating the Gospel. I intend to take the blue- 
 coat school (which has been much neglected by the clergy) under 
 my fostering wing. I shall tell Hodson that on all points where 
 we do not differ I will go hand in hand with him ; and thus get 
 my footing in the national and infant schools. I shall take also 
 great pains with my sermons, and thus by exertion and prayer I 
 hope to obtain God's grace, and to do some good in my generation. 
 All this, however, will occupy my whole mind so completely as to 
 render it necessary for me to decline engagements as much as 
 possible, and my visits to Worcester will be like angels', 'few and
 
 94 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1826- 
 
 far between.' I am not quick, and require deliberation ; in a 
 bustle and confusion, also, I can do nothing ; I require calm and 
 retirement to collect my thoughts. I intend to devote all the 
 energies of my mind, by God's blessing, to my new appointment, 
 and I long to begin. I shall be obliged to keep a horse for myself 
 and curate, which I think I can do at a neighbouring farmer's for 
 six or eight shillings a week. I shall also get my curate to take a 
 lodging with two bedrooms, and by paying him a small sum for 
 one of them, I shall have an apartment in Birmingham ; and I 
 shall get Dr. Gardener to give me the key of the parish library, 
 which can be my Birmingham study, in which I will make a point 
 of passing one day out of the seven, so that people may know 
 where to find me. Whateley tells me that my appointment has 
 given much satisfaction, and that Dr. Gardener is very much 
 pleased with it. 
 
 Blunders iji Bishops' Titles. 
 
 8 Colmore Row : December lo, 1827. 
 
 My dearest Mother, ... I wish a certain person would not 
 trouble himself in matters ecclesiastical ; he has made the most 
 ridiculous blunder in censuring the writer of the ' Times ' for calling 
 the Archbishop of Canterbury the * Metropolitan ' ; thinking, I 
 suppose, that the Bishop of London, being bishop of the civil 
 metropolis, must naturally be so of the ecclesiastical one. He said 
 not long ago that the Bishop of Winton had refused the Metro- 
 politan see, meaning the see of London. A censor of others ought 
 himself to be correct. 
 
 Letter from Bishop Jolly on the Death of Mr. HooKs Father. 
 
 Fraserburgh : March 24 (Annunciation Eve), 1828. 
 
 My very dear reverend Brother, — Ever thinking of you with 
 affectionate esteem, I felt how you must have been affected upon 
 the demise of your most venerable and worthy father, now for ever 
 happy. A heart so tenderly filial as yours (and the best hearts 
 feel most) must have smarted under the stroke, while you kissed 
 the rod with entire submission and resignation to the holy will of 
 our Heavenly Father. I pretend not, therefore, to suggest topics 
 of consolation to you, who have them for your own use in abun- 
 dance, and minister them to others. And indeed, at present, I am 
 veiy unfit to write anything upon any subject, being, upon the back 
 of a heavy cold under particular oppression and languor. But
 
 -i829 Letters, 182 7-1 828. 95 
 
 having a letter from our mutual dear friend of Fifeshire, in which 
 he kindly writes of you, I could not forbear to give you the trouble 
 of my line of condolence with the best wishes of my heart, which 
 begs your prayers for me in return. The very title which your 
 excellent father most worthily bore was endearing to me. His ever 
 memorable predecessor, great and good Dr. Hickes, in his preface 
 to Bishop Campbell's book on the intermediate state of the soul, 
 writes and states that scriptural and truly primitive doctrine so as, 
 in my opinion, to yield a vast fund of consolation under our 
 momentary separation (and that only in respect of bodily inter- 
 course) from our deceased friends. Bishop Hickes I consider 
 and rank among the best writers against the corruptions of the 
 Church of Rome. The truly Catholic practice of prayer for the 
 advancement of the final consummation of the bliss of the faithful 
 departed, plants a barrier strong against some of its most dan- 
 gerous doctrines and practices. 
 
 That quondam dean, with whom the late good dean now is, 
 drew up a prayer to be used for himself after his decease, which he 
 put for that purpose into the hand of a friend ; from that friend 
 our excellent Bishop Rattray received it in London, 17 17, and I 
 have it in the handwriting of Bishop Alexander, Bishop Rattray's 
 successor. As my paper may, I think, contain it by compressing, 
 I will transcribe a copy which you will receive as a curiosity. I 
 entertain no doubt upon the point ; and my great favourite, Dr. S. 
 Johnson, used such prayer, and would probably have done it with 
 more confidence had he been as well versed in the ancient fathers 
 as Dr. Hickes was. The phraseology is that of the Apostolical 
 Constitutions. 
 
 ' O God, who by Thy nature art immortal and everlasting, by 
 whom all things mortal and immortal were created, and who 
 madest Thy rational creature, man, the inhabitant of this world, 
 subject unto death, but hast promised him a resurrection unto 
 eternal life ; O God, who wouldst not suffer Enoch and Elias to 
 undergo the sentence of death ; O God of Abraham, Isaac, and 
 Jacob, who art the God of men, not as they are dead but as living ; 
 because the souls of all live unto Thee, and the spirits of the just, 
 whom no torments can touch in any degree, are in Thy hand, they 
 being all holy in Thy sight ; do Thou, O Lord, now look upon this 
 Thy servant, whom Thou hast chosen, and taken from this into 
 the other state. O Thou lover of men, forgive him all his offences, 
 which he hath committed willingly or unwillingly against Thee;
 
 96 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1826- 
 
 and send Thy benevolent angels to him to conduct him into the 
 bosom of the Patriarchs, Prophets, and Ajjostles, and of all Thy 
 righteous servants who have pleased Thee from the beginning of 
 the world ; into that region of light, where there is no sorrow, no 
 grief, no lamentation, but a calm and cjuiet place of bliss and 
 blessed spirits, and a haven of rest, free from the storms and tem- 
 pests of this world, and wh'ere the souls of the just converse to- 
 gether in a joyful expectation of their future reward, and behold 
 the glory of Christ. In whose name, we beseech Thee, O Father 
 of spirits, to accomplish the number of Thine elect, that we with 
 this Thy servant, and with all who are gone before us, and whO' 
 shall follow us to their promised rest, may have our consummation 
 of perfect bliss, both in body and soul, at the resurrection of the 
 just ; through our Lord Jesus Christ, who rose from the dead, and 
 ascended into Heaven, from whence He shall come again with 
 glory to judge both the quick and the dead. To whom, with Thee and 
 the Holy Ghost, the Lord, and Giver of Life, be all glory, honour, 
 worship, thanksgiving, and adoration, now and for ever. Amen.' 
 
 In the above I do most humbly think there is nothing but what 
 results from the blessed apostle's prayer for his dear Onesiphorus, 
 which we read last evening, ' The Lord grant unto him that he 
 may find mercy of the Lord in that day.' The final blotting out 
 of sin awaits His coming from heaven to raise and refine the body 
 also, and make it a fat companion for the soul in eternal glory t 
 Meanwhile, although the body lies insensible, the fellowship of souls 
 in the Communion of Saints, remains uninterrupted, and, defecated 
 of corporeal affections, is the more spiritualised. The translation 
 of our dear departed friends elevates our hearts more to the 
 heavenly state, and to think of the bliss of Paradise. I ever read 
 those words of St. Cyprian (in his sweet little book ' De Mor- 
 talitate ') with tender emotion : ' Magnus illic nos carorum 
 numerus expectat ; parentum, fratrum, filiorum, frequens nos et 
 copiosa turba desiderat, jam de sua immortalitate secura, et adhuc 
 de nostra soUicita. In horum conspectum et complexum venire, 
 quanta et illis et nobis in commune Icetitia est ! ' 
 
 Accept now, my very dear reverend sir, this poor attempt of my 
 goodwill to express the cordial attachment of your very respectful 
 
 Alexander Jolly. 
 
 I earnestly request a place in your prayers.* 
 
 ^ The good Bishop lived ten years after the date of this letter, and died 
 aged eighty-two. I cannot forbear relating the affecting circumstances of his
 
 -1829 Death of Bishop y oily. 97 
 
 last illness and death as recorded by his chaplain, the Rev. Charles Pressley. 
 A lay friend \'isited him in the summer of 1838, when a general synod of the 
 clergy was about to take place. 'Tell Dr. Walker ' (Bishop of Edinburgh), he 
 said, ' that I am dying, getting weaker and weaker. I trust to his taking care 
 that things are so managed at the synod that the principles of the Church may 
 be preserved unimpaired. I am more and more convinced of the awfully 
 responsible situation of the clergy, and I greatly fear that (not excepting myself) 
 they fall far short of what they ought to be.' His friend remarked that if all 
 the clergy performed their duty as he had done his, they might have con- 
 fidence : to which here plied that he had no confidence in anything but the 
 merits of his Saviour, on which alone he trusted. A few days after this, on the 
 evening of St. Peter's Day, he seemed better than usual, and was left alone for 
 the night about nine o'clock. When his attendant returned in the morning 
 about seven o'clock he found the Bishop dead, lying in the most easy posture 
 with his hands folded across his breast, and a most serene expression of 
 countenance. Sutton's Discc Mori (' Learn to die ') lay by his side. 
 
 H
 
 98 Life of Walter Farqithar Hook. 1829- 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 STATE OF THE CHURCH — RISE OF THE * TRACTARIAN ' 
 SCHOOL — LIFE AT COVENTRY. 
 
 A.D. 1829-1837. 
 
 We have now reached the period when the subject of this 
 memoir begins to occupy a conspicuous place, not only as an 
 eminent parish priest, but also as an actor in the great ec- 
 clesiastical movements of the age. In order, therefore, to 
 form a just estimate of the character and value of his work, it 
 seems desirable to take a brief survey of the condition of the 
 Church of England at this epoch. 
 
 She had but lately begun to shake off the lethargy by which 
 she had been oppressed during the eighteenth century. The 
 causes of that depression had been manifold. The unfortunate 
 attachment of a considerable body of the clergy to the dynasty 
 of the Stuarts shut out for more than half a century many men 
 of ability, learning, and earnest piety — men devoted to Catholic 
 doctrine and practice of the purest type — from positions of 
 influence in the Established Church. In the reigns of the first 
 two Georges, the energy of the Church, such as it was, had to 
 contend, on behalf of the first principles of faith and morality, 
 against a flood tide of Deism, Atheism, and profligacy. It was 
 as much as she could do to stem the torrent ; she did not 
 advance, and in many vital respects she slipped back. Whilst 
 the reason was occupied with evidences and demonstrations 
 the religious sentiments and emotions were comparatively un- 
 cultivated and the love of many waxed cold. It was the policy 
 of the State to depress the Church, and to convert it as much
 
 -1 837 State of the Church. 99 
 
 as possible into a servile implement for political purposes. 
 Worldly-minded ministers conferred bishoprics on worldly- 
 minded men, under whose misrule fearful havoc was made in 
 the doctrine and discipline of the Church. Laxity and listless- 
 ness in the discharge of spiritual functions pervaded, but with 
 many noble exceptions, all ranks of the hierarchy. In days 
 when a Bishop of Winchester made one visitation only in the 
 course of twenty-one years — when an Archbishop of York con- 
 firmed but once — when a Bishop of Llandaff, who never resided 
 in his diocese, complacently thanked God that he had not 
 spent his time in idleness, but had been usefully employed 
 in writing many 'seasonable publications,' and building and 
 planting on his estate in Westmoreland — when candidates 
 were admitted to ordination, after a few hasty questions put by 
 a chaplain, sometimes in the cricket field, or after his return 
 from hunting, it is not surprising that parish priests, especially 
 in rural places, might be seen smoking their pipes with village 
 gossips outside the alehouse ; that they caroused with their 
 squire or farmers over the punch bowl ; and that on Sundays 
 they preached, what Samuel Pepys would have called ' lazy, 
 dull sermons ' in mouldy churches, to scanty congregations. 
 
 Such scandals were not extinct at the beginning of this 
 century, but they were fast dying out ; for during the latter 
 half of the former century, a noise and a shaking had been 
 going on amongst the dry bones. 
 
 That great apostle of Christ, John Wesley, and his disciples, 
 kindled a flame of piety in the land, although the Church in 
 her coldness and pride repelled it. The spiritual work which 
 the Wesleyans conducted, after their secession, outside the 
 Church, was carried on by the Evangelical school which grew 
 up within the fold. But the Evangelicals were unable to revive 
 the Church, for the simple reason that they did not comprehend 
 or enforce more than a part of her doctrine, while they were 
 comparatively regardless of ecclesiastical discipline and Uiur- 
 gical ordinances. They had a zeal for God, but not according 
 to knowledge. Their theology was based, rather on the teach- 
 ing of Wesley and Whitfield, than on a study of tlic primitive 
 
 II 2
 
 lOO Life of Walter Farqzihar Hook. 1829- 
 
 fathers and the history of the Church, or the great divines of 
 the Enghsh Reformation ; while by their neglect of discipline 
 and ordinances they confused the lines of demarcation between 
 the Church and Dissent, and fed the ranks of Nonconformity 
 instead of recruiting from them. 
 
 The revival of the Church was to come from men of 
 another stamp ; from men who understood and taught and, as 
 far as possible, practised the principles of the Church in their 
 integrity and fulness. From the time of the Restoration 
 onwards, such men had never been wanting ; even in the 
 darkest days of trouble and rebuke, blasphemy and coldness, 
 they were to be found, although like the seven thousand in 
 Israel, who had not bowed the knee to Baal, they were often 
 unnoticed and unknown. 
 
 Religious societies had been formed soon after the Restora- 
 tion for the avowed object of ' promoting holiness of heart and 
 life,' including amongst the means to this end daily services, 
 weekly celebration of Holy Communion, a strict observance of 
 the fasts and festivals of the Church, monthly conferences of 
 the clergy, the establishment of schools, and various other 
 agencies for reclaiming the vicious and ignorant. These 
 societies gave birth to the ' Society for Promoting Christian 
 Knowledge,' whence proceeded the ' Society for the Propaga- 
 tion of the Gospel in Foreign Parts.' They were stifled soon 
 after the Hanoverian dynasty came to the throne, but they had 
 bred a race of men which never died out. Such, amongst 
 bishops, were Wilson and Butler, Wake and Potter, Gibson, 
 Berkeley, and Louth ; amongst the second order of clergy, 
 Bingham and Waterland ; amongst the laity, Samuel Johnson. 
 They were the successors, though at long intervals, in thought 
 and feeling, of Collier and Ken, and Nelson and Horneck. 
 
 And when we pass from the last century to the present, the 
 number of such men, especially amongst the laity and the 
 lower ranks of the clerg}-, largely increases. William Stevens, 
 the Treasurer of Queen Anne's Bounty ; Jones of Nayland ; 
 Bishops Van Mildert, Lloyd, and Jebb ; Alexander K nox, 
 Joshua Watson, and Henry Handley Norris, are only the most
 
 -1 837 State of the ChiLrch. loi 
 
 conspicuous and able amongst many who studied, loved, and 
 reverenced the principles of the Anglican Church and of the 
 Church Catholic as it was constituted before the disruption of 
 Eastern and Western Christendom. In this succession, for at 
 present it was a succession rather than a definite school or 
 party, the subject of this memoir is entitled to a niche. Bishop 
 Jebb, indeed, Joshua Watson, and Mr. Norris were his personal 
 friends in early life. He was a connecting link between such 
 men and the Oxford Tractarian School, which was yet un- 
 formed. 
 
 The great and good men whose names I have just cited 
 did much — some by their writings, others by their practical 
 exertions — to promote the knowledge of sound principles and 
 to engender that corporate feeling and action on the part of 
 the Church in which she was as yet very deficient. By their 
 efforts, the National Society for Promoting the Education of 
 the Poor in the Principles of the Established Church was 
 founded in the year 1811, and the old Societies for Promoting 
 Christian Knowledge and Propagating the Gospel were 
 quickened into fresh life. But much remained to be done. 
 By the end of that period to which the present memoir has 
 been brought down, the organisation of the Church was still 
 very incomplete. Episcopal Visitations and Confirmations 
 were in many instances very irregularly performed. Agencies 
 for sustaining the corporate life of the Church were in abeyance. 
 Convocation, suppressed in 171 7, was still silent. Congresses, 
 conferences, and even ruridecanal meetings were as yet things 
 unknown. There were earnest and enlightened laymen who 
 have never been surpassed in their attachment to the Church ; 
 but there were not those large bodies of hearty supporters 
 which are to be found among the laity of the present day. 
 
 The clergy, too, as a body were very deficient in activity and 
 such learning as belonged to their vocation. It was remarked 
 by Dr. Hobart, the Bishop of New York, when he visited 
 England in 1824, that while the best educated among the 
 English clergy were good scholars or men of science, they were 
 very commonly ignorant of the theology and the history of the
 
 I02 Life of Walter Far qtchar Hook. 1829- 
 
 Church. There seemed good ground for such complaint, 
 when for a long time it was found impossible to float a journal 
 of sacred literature. 'The country clergy,' wrote Mr. Norris, 
 'are constant readers of the "Gentleman's Magazine," deep 
 in the antiquities of the signs of inns, speculations as to 
 what becomes of swallows in winter, and whether hedgehogs 
 or other urchins are most justly accused of sucking milch 
 cows dry at night' It was not till the year 1818 that Mr. 
 Norris and Joshua Watson induced Mr. Iremonger to start the 
 'Christian Remembrancer.' 
 
 The diocesan supervision of the clergy, in fact, was so im- 
 perfect, and they so rarely met in those conferences in which 
 experiences are compared and emulation is kindled, that if a 
 country parson was inclined to lapse into the easy-going country 
 gentleman, there was no strong force of public opinion in the 
 Church to hinder him. Sydney Smith's rhyming summary of 
 Bishop Blomfield's first Charge in the Diocese of Chester in 
 1825 is a burlesque, but it indicates truly enough the kind of 
 amusements to which the country clergy in that part at least of 
 the kmgdom were addicted. 
 
 Hunt not, fish not, shoot not ; 
 
 Dance not, fiddle not, flute not ; 
 
 But, before all things, it is my particular desire, 
 
 That, once at least in everj^ week, you take 
 
 Your dinner with the Squire. 
 
 Moreover, even amongst High Churchmen, so called, both 
 clerical and lay, the idea of the Church as a divine institution, 
 rather than a mere department of the State, was very imperfectly 
 formed ; while, even as a department of the State, its growth 
 and action were hampered at every turn. Most of the paro- 
 chial endowments remained as they had been in the days when 
 the clergy were celibate, and the value of money was five times. 
 as great as it is in the nineteenth century. Out of a total of 
 some 10,600 parochial benefices at the beginning of this century 
 the incomes of more than half were under 50/. a year. The 
 number of the parochial clergy was 10,300, actually smaller
 
 -i837 State of the Church. 103 
 
 than the number of parishes to be served ; hence a vast number 
 of pluralist incumbents, parishes without parsonage houses, 
 curates dividing their time between several cures, often con- 
 siderable distances apart, Sunday services cut down to one in 
 a fortnight, sometimes to one in three weeks, or on accidental 
 occasions ; Holy Communion celebrated at rare intervals, and 
 in some instances altogether dropped for several years. There 
 were indeed churches where divine service was still carried on 
 daily, sometimes even twice a day, but this was for the most 
 part in towns where special endowments existed from ancient 
 times for the purpose. It was suggested by some, as one in- 
 ducement amongst others to Mr. Hook to take the living of 
 Trinity, in Coventry, that the Wednesday and Friday services 
 had been dropped since the death of the late Vicar, and that 
 there was no need to resume them. 
 
 In the distribution of the clergy, there was the same kind 
 of disproportion relative to the population as that which pre- 
 vailed in Parliamentary representation. Just as great manu- 
 facturing towns, where the population had risen to 50,000 or 
 100,000 souls, returned only one member to Parliament or 
 none at all, so very commonly were they provided with but one 
 or two pastors. This was not the fault of the Church ; for be- 
 fore the Church Building Act of 1818 it was not possible to 
 divide a parish without a special Act of Parliament, the cost of 
 which was ruinously great. After the passing of this Act and 
 the establishment of the Incorporated Church Building Society, 
 a great spring in the direction of church extension took place. 
 During the first seven years of this century only twenty-four 
 churches were consecrated in the kingdom, whereas between 
 182 1 and 1830 the number was 308, and Bishop Blomfield be- 
 tween 1828 and 1856 consecrated more than 200 in the diocese 
 of London alone. 
 
 But while the Church had been heavily clogged in her en- 
 deavours to keep pace with the population. Dissent had been 
 free ; Dissent, never powerful in the country, stepped into the 
 great waste places in large towns, and planted strongholds from 
 which it is now only beginning to be dislodged. During the
 
 I04 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1829- 
 
 first two or even three decades of the century, Dissent did not 
 take up a very hostile attitude towards the Church, because the 
 Church was too feeble and inactive to provoke jealousy or 
 alarm. It was not until the Church began to shake off her 
 slumber and her shackles, and to do her duty by the nation as 
 she never had done it before, that Dissent began to clamour 
 for disestablishment and disendowment. While the Church 
 *was dying,' as Sydney Smith said, 'of dignity,' Dissent was 
 quiet and content. Thus it wall be seen that the most active 
 opposition which Dr. Hook encountered in the earlier part of 
 his career proceeded, not so much from the Dissenters outside 
 the Church, as from the more fanatical of the Evangelicals 
 inside her walls. This indeed was also due to the principle, 
 which he always advocated and practised, of absolute tolera- 
 tion towards them ' that are without : ' he neither denounced 
 them nor molested them in any way, but left them to pursue 
 their course without interference, and whenever it was possible, 
 without compromising his principles, he worked with them. 
 'There is a line between us,' he used to say, 'but across that 
 line we shake hands.' 
 
 The state of the country when he became Vicar of Trinity, 
 Coventry, was not such as to render the pastoral charge of a 
 large manufacturing parish agreeable or encouraging. The 
 social condition of the people was one of deep and deplorable 
 distress. The population had rapidly increased after the victory 
 of Waterloo and the establishment of peace, while the duties on 
 foreign corn hindered a supply of food adequate to the increased 
 demand. The poor laws were ill devised and ill administered, 
 and Parliamentary representation was so unequal that large 
 masses of the people were unable to seek redress for their 
 grievances through natural and constitutional channels. From 
 all parts of the country during the years 1829 and 1830 
 innumerable petitions poured into Parliament representing 
 the pitiable state of depression and distress which prevailed 
 in every department of industry. Agricultural labourers were 
 found starved to death. In spite of landlords reducing rents 
 and clergy foregoing payment of tithe, wages fell. The peasantry
 
 -1837 State of the Country. 105 
 
 in their dense ignorance and mad despair took to breaking 
 machines and burning ricks, and night after night the sky was 
 lit up with the glare of the flames which were destroying the 
 nation's food. 
 
 The distress of the manufacturing districts was less severe 
 and was more patiently endured ; but frequent strikes, and 
 occasional outbreaks of violence proved that it was keenly felt. 
 The returns of the Coventry Union at this time illustrate the 
 state of things in that city, and may be taken as a sample of the 
 condition of large towns all over the country. The number of 
 families receiving relief in Coventry in the year 1827 was 280 ; 
 the number in 1830 was 1,312. The number of paupers in the 
 house at the close of the year 1827 was 183 ; the number at 
 the beginning of the year 1830 was 456. These statistics more- 
 over were a very imperfect representation of the distress in 
 Coventry. It is an ancient privilege of the inhabitants in that 
 city that any man who has served an apprenticeship of seven 
 years at one trade is entitled to the franchise, and the holders 
 of this franchise are at all times very unwilling to forfeit it by 
 falling upon the parish. Hence the distress of the operatives 
 in Coventry, especially the weavers, during a depression of 
 trade is always peculiarly great. 
 
 Although the clergy had done their utmost by the most 
 self-denying chanty to relieve the misery by which they were 
 surrounded, yet their popularity was at a low ebb, owing to the 
 unfortunate opposition which, as a body, they had offered to the 
 national demand for Parliamentary Reform. The Bishops, 
 who persistently voted against the Reform Bill in the Upper 
 House, were insulted and threatened in public ; and in the riots 
 of Bristol in 1831 the Bishop's palace was rifled and partly 
 burnt. By not heartily throwing themselves into the cause of 
 Reform the clergy lost a grand opportunity of attaching the 
 people to the Church, and were too commonly regarded by the 
 vulgar as opponents rather than champions of the great Chris- 
 tian principles of liberty and justice. The interests of Libe- 
 ralism and Dissent came to be considered identical, although 
 there is no necessary connexion between them. Deeply be-
 
 io6 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 loved as the Vicar personally was by the poor of his parish in 
 Coventry, he owns in one of his letters that it was a rare thing 
 to get a civil answer from a working man, if he was a stranger. 
 Although theoretically a Tory, and as such opposed to the 
 Reform Bill, yet he abstained from taking part in any public 
 opposition to the measure ; he was not slow to recognise the 
 justice of it when it had become law, and as time went on he 
 became, especially on social and educational questions, a Re- 
 former himself of a bold and advanced type. From political 
 agitation of any kind he always held aloof on principle, and he 
 was of too large and independent a mind to attach himself irre- 
 vocably to any party leader in the affairs of either Church or 
 State. '• Nullius addictus jura?'e in verba magistri^^ was a motto 
 which he was accustomed to quote in reference to himself 
 
 The throes and struggles by which the country was con- 
 vulsed during the slow and painful birth of the Reform Bill, 
 amongst other good results, completely woke up the Church. 
 The events which her foes hoped, and which some of her 
 friends feared, would effect her downfall, really turned out in 
 many ways to her advantage ; they led to the removal or rectifi- 
 cation of abuses, they caused her truest-hearted members to 
 rally round her in force, to ' lengthen her cords and to strengthen 
 her stakes.' 
 
 All kinds of schemes of Church Reform were afloat, ranging 
 from the abolition of Church rates and the readjustment of 
 ecclesiastical revenues to the expulsion of the Bishops from the 
 legislature, and the complete separation of Church and State. 
 Some, such as Dr. Arnold and Lord Henley, though they did 
 not agree in details, would have united all sects with the Church 
 by Act of Parliament, on the principle of each retaining its dis- 
 tinctive doctrines, and all using the buildings of the Church in 
 common. The proposals for alterations in the Liturgy were 
 countless, and would, if acted upon, have improved that vener- 
 able compilation off the face of the earth. The usual lies were 
 diligently circulated concerning the 'enormous wealth' and 
 * State pay ' of the clergy ; the usual ' scandals ' were industri- 
 ously sought out, or fabricated. On the other hand, the attach-
 
 -1 837 The Oxfoj^d Movement. 107 
 
 ment of many to the Church was wholly or mainly political :- 
 they viewed it as a department of the State, and were profoundly 
 ignorant of Church principles. 
 
 The alarm of the friends of the Church, already excited by 
 the Roman Catholic Relief Bill and by the Reform Bill, was 
 brought to a height by the suppression of ten Irish Bishoprics 
 in 1833. 
 
 It was then that a small knot of friends, men of mark indeed 
 in the Universities, but otherwise little known to the worlds 
 began to take counsel together to devise means for helping the 
 Church in the hour, as it was believed, of extreme peril. 
 
 At the beginning of the Long Vacation of 1833 the Rev. 
 W. Palmer of Worcester College, Oxford, and Mr. Hurrell 
 Froude met in the Common Room of Oriel, and resolved tO' 
 form an association for vindicating the rights of the Church, 
 and restoring the knowledge of sound principles. The design, 
 was communicated by Mr. Palmer to Mr. Hugh James Rose, 
 then Rector of Hadleigh in Suffolk, and by Mr. Froude to Mr. 
 Keble. Mr. Newman was at that time absent from England, 
 but joined the party on his return from the Continent. The 
 Rev. Arthur Perceval also was soon afterwards added to the 
 number. A conference of the friends was held at Hadleigh, 
 and they parted comforted in spirit and strengthened in purpose 
 more especially by the influence of the learned, large-minded, 
 warm-hearted rector, Mr. Rose, 'who,' to quote the words of 
 the most illustrious of that company, ' when hearts were failing, 
 bade us stir up the gift that was in us and betake ourselves to 
 our true mother.' 
 
 Mr. Rose had started the ' British Magazine ' in 1832, which, 
 under his able editorship, and afterwards under that of Dr. 
 Maitland, helped much to cultivate a spirit of churchmanship, 
 and to extend a knowledge of sound Church principles. Some 
 articles by Mr. Palmer had lately appeared in the Magazine 
 calling attention to the increasing feebleness of Dissent. In 
 July 1833, Mr. Hook had contributed a paper to the same 
 journal, in which the absurdity of Dr. Arnold's scheme for 
 identifying Church and State by the simple expedient of in-
 
 To8 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 cluding all denominations within the lines of the Church, were 
 ably exposed. He pointed out that any such attempt to secure 
 the Establishment by sacrificing the principles of the Church 
 would involve the loss of nearly all the best of the clergy, who 
 would never consent to minister in a Church so constituted, 
 and that (to quote his own words) ' the sight would not be 
 edifying of ejecting the most learned and devoted of the clergy 
 to turn their churches into parochial Exeter Halls.' 
 
 He was not present at the conference at Hadleigh ; but 
 from letters written to him by Mr. Rose, Mr. Palmer, and Mr. 
 Perceval, it is clear that he was kept well informed of the pro- 
 ceedings of the newly-created party. After the conference at 
 Hadleigh, frequent meetings took place at Oriel College be- 
 tween Mr. Newman, Mr. Keble, Mr. Palmer, and Mr. Froude, 
 the first result of which, and of correspondence with their 
 friends at a distance, was, that a circular was printed, entitled 
 * Suggestions for the Formation of an Association of Friends 
 of the Church,' which was sent to all parts of England in the 
 autumn of 1833. The objects of the Association were defined 
 to be : 
 
 'i. To maintain pure and inviolate the doctrines, the 
 services, and the discipline of the Church : that is, to with- 
 stand all change which involves the denial and suppression of 
 doctrine, a departure from primitive practice in religious 
 offices, or innovation upon the apostolical prerogatives, order, 
 .and commission of bishops, priests, and deacons. 
 
 ' 2. To afford churchmen an opportunity of exchanging their 
 sentiments, and co-operating together on a large scale.' 
 
 Mr. Palmer visited several of the large towns to enlist the 
 sympathy of the clergy in the Association, and from none did 
 he meet a heartier welcome or receive more cordial promises 
 ■ of support than from the Vicar of Holy Trinity, Coventry, and 
 such clergy belonging to that city or neighbourhood as were 
 under his influence. 
 
 One of the most direct fruits of the Association was an 
 address signed by about 7,000 of the clergy, and presented to 
 cthe Archbishop of Canterbury (Howley) in February 1834.
 
 1837 The Oxford Movement. 109 
 
 This address was a declaration, that amidst the growth of Lati- 
 tudinarian sentiments and ignorance concerning the spiritual 
 claims of the Church, the signatories wished to express their 
 devoted adherence to the apostolical doctrine and polity of 
 the Church, and their deep-rooted attachment to the Liturgy 
 as an embodiment of the primitive faith ; but that while they 
 deprecated any rash innovation in spiritual matters, the 
 primate might rely upon their hearty and dutiful support in 
 carrying into effect such wholesome reforms as the times might 
 require, especially such as would tend to revive the discipline of 
 ancient times, to strengthen the connexion between the bishops, 
 clergy, and people, and to promote the purity, efficiency, and 
 unity of the Church. 
 
 This address was signed by Mr. Hook. It was not long 
 afterwards followed by a declaration on the part of the laity,^ 
 which was mainly composed by Joshua Watson. Its language 
 was similar to the address of the clergy, save that it insisted 
 more forcibly on the importance of protecting the Church a& 
 an establishment, asserting that ' the consecration of the State 
 by the public maintenance of the Christian religion is the first 
 and paramount duty of a Christian people.' Many laymen, 
 zealously devoted to the Church, abstained from signing the 
 declaration on account of these strong expressions, and among 
 them Mr. W, P. Wood. It received, however, the signatures 
 of about 250,000 heads of families. The activity of the 
 Vicar of Holy Trinity in obtaining signatures in Coventry may 
 be estimated from the fact, that in his parish 1,120 names 
 were appended to the document, whereas in the adjoining 
 parish, though nearly double in population,' the number was 
 only 529. 
 
 Although he did not object to the declaration, notwith- 
 standing the prominence which it gave to the duty of support- 
 ing the Church as an establishment, yet he thought that many 
 High Churchmen at this time dwelt too much on that aspect 
 of the Church, and overlooked its higher and more commanding 
 claims as a Divine Institution. On the other hand, he fully 
 
 1 The population of Holy Trinity Parish was about 10,000.
 
 I lo Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 allowed, and, with advancing years, became increasingly con- 
 vinced of, the value of an Established Church in keeping 
 religion alive in places where, without it, the people would 
 probably relapse into total godlessness. Writing to Mr. Wood, 
 in June 1834, he confesses that at one time he had been too 
 much in favour of disestablishment, and says, ' My error con- 
 •sisted in thinking only of the purity of the Church. I would 
 far sooner myself live in a Church unshackled by the State ; 
 but then we must look to the indirect good ; to the forming a 
 religious atmosphere. It is something to provide a religion for 
 quiet, unreflective classes of society, who, but for an Establish- 
 ment, would be respectable Nothingarians.' 
 
 The same argument is worked out at length, and with very 
 considerable force, in the second of two sermons which he 
 preached about this time on the ' Church and the Establish- 
 ment.' 
 
 It is true (he says) that even though the Church were not 
 established, religion would still have its influence. I will go even 
 further, and add, that so far as regards those who are churchmen 
 in deed and in truth, the Church itself would be benefited by a 
 separation from the State : for she would regain those undoubted 
 rights from which, for the sake of harmony, she now recedes : the 
 right, for instance, of legislating for herself on all occasions, and of 
 electing her Bishops without the interference of the civil power. 
 The question with the legislator is not whether the Church would 
 do much good, though unconnected with the State, but whether by 
 an alliance therewith she cannot do more good ; and the question 
 with the churchman is, whether, for placing in abeyance some of 
 her spiritual rights, the Church does not receive compensation by 
 the indirect influence she is enabled to exert. The Church may be 
 less free, but is she not more efficient ? ... It is, indeed, not as 
 churchmen but as patriots that we deprecate the desecration of the 
 State ; that is to say, we deprecate it for the sake, not of those who 
 are within the pale, but of those that are without : we deprecate it 
 not because the Church would be a less efficient minister of grace 
 to the faithful if, driven from her glorious cathedrals, she sum- 
 moned her children around her in the upper room of a hired house, 
 or the caves of the desert, but because she would be a less effectual 
 preacher of morality to the unenlightened and the unbeliever
 
 -1 837 The Tracts for the Times. iii 
 
 Her voice would still be the voice of the charmer, but it would not 
 reach so far. . . . The strong would have their meat, but how 
 would the babes be supplied with milk? ... In short, where there 
 is no national establishment, they who require instruction least 
 receive it most ; and they who require it most receive it not at all. 
 And therefore, whether we look at the fact with the eye of the 
 legislator or of the Christian, the circumstance of stationing a man 
 of education, respectability, and religion in each parish where the 
 inhabitants are too poor to support, or too ignorant to desire, an 
 instructor, is an advantage to the country which will only then be 
 properly appreciated when it is lost. 
 
 Thus he held the balance between those who, in their zeal 
 for the Establishment, underrated the claims of the Church, 
 and those who, in their zeal for the purity of the Church, under- 
 rated the value of an establishment. This last was the error, 
 he conceived, of Mr. Hurrell Froude and some other enthusiasts 
 •of the new movement, who were amongst the writers of ' The 
 Tracts.' These Tracts, which afterwards became so celebrated 
 under the name of ' Tracts for the Times,' began to appear 
 towards the end of the year 1833. Mr. Newman was their 
 editor, and in a great measure at first their author. Dr. Pusey 
 made his first contribution to the series by the Tract on Fasting 
 in the end of December. The writers were generally known to 
 be Oxford men, and the tracts themselves were commonly called 
 'the Oxford Tracts.' The originators of the new movement 
 had always contemplated the necessity of using the press for 
 the propagation of their views : but when the Tracts began to 
 appear Mr. Palmer, Mr. Perceval, and some others, were anx- 
 ious that they should be subjected to a committee of revision, 
 and thus go forth stamped with the authority of the whole 
 school or association. Mr. Newman, however, Mr. Keble, and 
 Mr. Froude were wholly opposed to this proposal. 'If we 
 altered to please everyone,' wrote Mr. Newman to Mr. Palmer^ 
 ♦ the effect would be spoiled. They (the Tracts) were not in- 
 tended as symbols e cathedra, but as the expression of indi- 
 vidual minds ; and individuals feeling strongly, while on the 
 one hand they are incidentally faulty in mode or language, are
 
 112 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 still peculiarly effective. No great work was done by a system ; 
 whereas systems rise out of individual exertions.' 
 
 From this point the leading men of the new movement, 
 although maintaining then and long afterwards the most friendly 
 intercourse, were fairly divisible into two classes. There were 
 those who, by age, position in the Church, or family associa- 
 tions, were closely connected with the old school of High 
 Anglicans. They were men who, although they would not 
 surrender to expediency the smallest atom of what they deemed 
 essential, nevertheless valued the Establishment ; and in all 
 matters relating to the revival of forgotten doctrines or 
 abandoned customs were inclined to proceed with caution and 
 judgment. Such were Mr. Palmer and Mr. Le Bas. Some of 
 them, especially those who were incumbents of parishes, were 
 eminently practical in their views of things ; they were men of 
 tact, accustomed to feel the pulse of their people ; and knew 
 the risk of putting new wine into old bottles. Eminent in this 
 class were Mr. Rose, Mr. Paget, and the subject of this 
 memoir. 
 
 In the other class, were some who had been originally 
 brought up in the Evangelical school, and who now embraced 
 High Church princij^les and sentiments with all the ardour of 
 men who have discovered a new treasure : others were young, 
 few of them had pastoral cures, some of them were resident in 
 Oxford. Amongst these were the Tract writers. Full of intel- 
 lectual vigour, learning, and piety, full of hope and even con- 
 fidence that they were destined to work out a second Reforma- 
 tion of the Church, they wrote unfettered by such restraints as 
 are felt by men who move in a practical sphere, and have to 
 consider what is possible rather than what is absolutely best. 
 Hence, although it was a long time before Mr. Hook and others 
 like-minded publicly expressed their disapproval of any of the 
 Tracts, believing them to be beneficial on the whole, yet even in 
 the earlier Tracts, which were the least open to objection of any, 
 they detected expressions which they regretted as unseasonable, 
 incautious, and liable to misunderstanding. They watched 
 them as they came out with interest, with much sympathy, but
 
 -1 837 The Tract Writers. 113 
 
 with no little anxiety. In the earlier numbers, Mr. Hook for 
 the most part rejoiced, as teaching what he had long been 
 endeavouring to inculcate ; he distributed them among his 
 flock, but warned those who read them against particular parts 
 which appeared to be inconsiderate or overstrained in expres- 
 sion. Nevertheless, he seems to have been regarded by the 
 Tract writers for some time as the principal, almost the solitary, 
 instance -of one who worked out in a large parochial sphere 
 fully and freely the principles Avhich they taught. Mr. Newman, 
 in a letter congratulating him on the recovery of his health in 
 the latter part of 1834, begs him not to risk it by a repetition of 
 overwork. 'Your being obliged,' he says, 'to retire from 
 parochial duty would be a calamity we ought to try to prevent, 
 as we have no specimen (so far as I know) but that which you 
 supply of the influential nature of true Church principles on a 
 town population.' 
 
 On the other hand it must be carefully borne in mind that 
 he was neither a colleague nor a disciple of the Tract writers. 
 He was for a certain time with them, but he was never <7/"them. 
 He had advanced some distance upon his career, with clearly 
 formed principles and aims, the result of patient study and 
 practical experience long before many of the most eminent of 
 the Tract writers had settled their opinions and line of action. 
 Presently they came up with him ; he welcomed them as fellow 
 travellers, and for a while they journeyed side by side. When 
 they diverged from his path and got into difficulties, he 
 defended them as long as he conscientiously could ; and when 
 their most illustrious leader fell away from the ranks of the 
 Church, when the Tracts came to an end and the party was shaken 
 to its foundation, he went on his way at the same steady pace 
 and with the same undeviating straightforwardness, as before 
 his connexion with them. The painful contact into which he 
 was afterwards brought at Leeds with some extreme disciples of 
 this party will be described in its proper place. It will suffice 
 to close this general sketch by remarking that to extremes in 
 every direction he was always steadily opposed. Whichever 
 school was for the time being most dominant, aggressive, and 
 
 I
 
 T 14 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook, 1829- 
 
 dangerous to the highest interests of tlie Church, whether it 
 was the Puritan, the Latitudinarian, or the Romanising school, 
 received the full force of his attack. And this was the reason 
 why, whilst really being in the mean, he often appeared to 
 superficial observers to be gravitating towards one of the 
 extremes ; so that when he attacked Puritans or Erastians 
 he was denounced as a Tractarian, and when he attacked 
 Romanisers he was upbraided for deserting the ranks of High 
 Churchmen : whereas, in fact, he remained steadfast, only 
 facing first in one direction and then in another. As Bishop 
 Wilberforce once happily expressed it, ' Hook is like a ship at 
 anchor, which, without moving from its anchorage, always 
 swings round to turn its breast to the tide.' 
 
 The letters written during his Incumbency at Coventry 
 are so numerous and full that they supply a chronicle of his 
 life, almost month by month, and I have not found it necessary 
 to do more than to add a few details which they do not contain 
 or to explain some matters to which they refer. 
 
 He read himself in at Holy Trinity, Coventry, on Sunday, 
 December 14, 1828, and on January 4, 1829, he preached his 
 farewell sermon at St. Philip's, Birmingham, on the text i Cor. 
 xiii. I, 2, 3. One of the Birmingham papers, in reporting the 
 sermon, remarks, ' We can give the matter of his discourse, but 
 the charm of his manner and voice must be left to the imagina- 
 tion or the memory, for it is indescribable.' 
 
 In the same month the congregation of St. Philip's pre- 
 sented him with a service of plate, bearing an inscription which 
 stated that it was given ' in testimony of their respect and of 
 their gratitude for his zealous services as Lecturer during the 
 past fourteen months.' 
 
 On February 15 he preached his first sermon in the church 
 of Holy Trinity, Coventry, and began to enter on his pastoral 
 labours there. 
 
 He had now a sphere of work adequate to his powers, and 
 those powers were soon to be alike quickened and chastened 
 by coming under the influence of her to whom not only the 
 happiness but also the success of his future life was very 
 largely owing.
 
 -1837 Anna Dclicia yohnstoiie. 115 
 
 He had become acquainted in Birmingham with Dr. John 
 Johnstone, a physician of very high reputation, a man of great 
 abihty and scientific knowledge, a Fellow of the Royal Society, 
 the intimate friend and biographer of Dr. Parr. Dr. John- 
 stone's eldest daughter, Anna Delicia, was only seventeen 
 years of age when Mr. Hook was appointed to his living in 
 Coventry, but beneath the most girlish playfulness and sparkling 
 vivacity of manner was a deep fund of sound practical wisdom 
 and earnest piety. He had not been slow to discern and to 
 be captivated by this combination of high qualities, but her 
 extreme youth and his own want of means until he had 
 obtained a living deterred him for some time from declaring 
 his attachment. 
 
 In February 1829 she wrote a valentine in verse to a lady 
 with whom he was acquainted, under the assumed name of 
 'John Bright.' The handAvriting, however, was detected, the 
 verses were shown to Mr. Hook, and he composed the follow- 
 ing reply for his friend, which was in fact the first approach to 
 an open declaration of his sentiments. It is dated February 15, 
 the very day on which he oflficiated for the first time as 
 Vicar in his church at Coventry, and it is therefore a curious 
 illustration of the natural and innocent way in which he passed 
 from things grave to gay. 
 
 Lady, I think that you are right, 
 When valentines you would indite, 
 Under fictitious names to write ; 
 And upon none could you alight 
 So well appropriate as ' Bright.' 
 Between yourself and all that's bright, 
 You thus comparison invite ; 
 Let us examine then your plight. 
 Winning the heart of many a wight, 
 Those soft dark eyes are beaming bright 
 And far eclipse the orbs of night ; 
 The Passtan roses are less h'ight 
 Than th' hues which on your check unite. 
 Upon that neck — (itself as bright 
 As alabaster's purest white) 
 1 2
 
 1 16 Life of Walter Farqithar Hook. 1829- 
 
 The locks that hang in ringlets light 
 As ebony are black and bright ; 
 When you are smiling with delight, 
 Your smile is as the sunbeam brigJit, 
 Revealing to the eni'aptured sight 
 Those teeth than ivory more bright ; 
 While the two pouting lips they bite, 
 Are as the coral red and bright. 
 But brighter far, O far more bright., 
 The charms within ! if brought to light, 
 They'd prove that you're perfection quite : 
 A mind with wit and talent bright., 
 A soul so pure, that well it might 
 Be deemed the soul of angel bright. 
 Hence, lady, I must think you right 
 When you assume the name of Bright. 
 
 It was perfectly true ; — ' Brightness ' was eminently charac- 
 teristic of his future wife. The freshness and buoyancy of her 
 spirits never forsook her to the end of her life, although that 
 life w-as shortened by care, anxiety, and toil which overtasked 
 her physical strength. Naturally elastic, however, as her spirit 
 was, the invariable and equable cheerfulness which she exhibited 
 was partly sustained from a sense of duty. Her husband was 
 attacked by some alarming epileptic fits soon after his settle- 
 ment at Coventry, and she was then informed by the doctors that 
 his future health and, perhaps, his life would depend upon his 
 preservation from those moods of undue depression to which 
 impulsive and irritable temperaments, such as his, are especially 
 liable. Thus her original and natural disposition to cheerful- 
 ness was cultivated and trained into a habit, but at times the 
 maintenance of this habit, as one of the duties of daily life, 
 was a severe strain. There was no doubt a considerable fund 
 of common sense and practical wisdom in her husband, but 
 there were also some of the eccentricities which belong to that 
 order of mind which we call genius, and the very warmth of his 
 affections and vehemence of his impulses w^hich, on the one 
 hand, constituted his strength, on the other overbore at times 
 his calmer judginent, and hurried him into acts of which the
 
 -1 837 " Anna Delicia Hook. 1 17 
 
 consequences were embarrassing. By her superiority in dis- 
 cernment of character, and in the affairs of practical Hfe, his 
 wife was constantly engaged in saving him or extricating him 
 from the awkward situations into which his reckless generosity 
 and his violent fits, either of affection or antipathy towards 
 individuals, were constantly urging him. To make both ends 
 meet with a large family and small means, to mediate, to con- 
 ciliate, sometimes to soothe and encourage, sometimes to warn 
 and repress, was the daily task of her life, and nobly did she 
 discharge it. He himself knew his failings, and he had pre- 
 pared her mind for the work she would have to do. In one of 
 his letters, written before their marriage, he says, ' I never can 
 or will intentionally hurt your feelings ; but I am rather an un- 
 couth being whom you must polish and tame. I am a kind of 
 Cimon and you must be my Iphigenia.' Having to deal Avith 
 one who was always very irrepressible in the expression of his 
 feelings, and occasionally allowed them to outrun the bounds of 
 discretion, she was as a rule reserved and undemonstrative, 
 although this habit was partly also due to the circumstances of 
 early life. 
 
 I was veiy timid (she writes) in my early youth, and used often 
 to get put down if ever, conquering my shyness, I uttered anything 
 sentimental ; and these early influences wear deeper into the 
 character than people are commonly aware of, even to quenching 
 ' sometimes what was originally a prominent part of it. I think 
 there is a great deal of self-know ledge required to discover how 
 far we may indulge our feelings, and when we ought to repress 
 them ; but perhaps in this we may take our common duties as a 
 measure, and whate\'er unfits us for them we may suppose to Ije 
 undue. 
 
 How admirably and wonderfully these ' common duties ' were 
 discharged, alike in the household and in the parish, cannot be 
 adequately understood save by those who actually witnessed the 
 execution of them ; but the depth and fervour of her religious 
 feelings may be known to all who read the ' Meditations for 
 every day in the Year,' which were composed by her, or 'The 
 Cross of Christ,' which she compiled, although, appearing as
 
 ii8 Life of Walter FarqiiJiar Hook. 1829- 
 
 they did under the editorship of her husband, they have com- 
 monly been ascribed to him. There are few women who could 
 turn from the drudgery of account-keeping and other matters of 
 domestic and parochial business to the composition of manuals 
 of devotion, which have been the refreshment and consolation 
 of thousands of pious Christians. In a letter written late at night 
 from Leeds, she says, ' I have a great bundle of proofs at my side, 
 and account-books frowning at me in the distance and threaten- 
 ing an hour or two of calculation and puzzling. How I hate 
 them ! being in a constant apprehension of spending too much 
 and not having enough to meet all demands.' The close jux- 
 taposition of her Book of Meditations and of her account-books 
 alluded to in this letter is not a bad key to the character of the 
 writer : she was eminently devout and at the same time eminently 
 practical. 
 
 And this union of qualities was the great secret of her 
 remarkable influence alike within the circle of her family and 
 beyond it. She was, indeed, at once the fresh and cheerful 
 companion of her children, entering with keen relish into their 
 amusements and pursuits, especially music, in which she was 
 uncommonly skilled ; and also the counsellor on whose sound 
 judgment they could always rely for instruction and advice re- 
 specting their duty in this world and their preparation for the world 
 which is to come. And in like manner, outside the walls of home, 
 the curates who looked up to her as a mother, and a large num- 
 ber of friends, young and old of both sexes, were wont to turn 
 to her before all others for the Christian sympathy and the 
 wholesome counsel which were never asked in vain. 
 
 Few, indeed, have more nearly fulfilled the description of 
 the virtuous woman drawn long ago by the Wise Man : 
 
 She openeth her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue is the 
 law of kindness. 
 
 She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not 
 the bread of idleness. 
 
 Her children arise ujd and call her blessed ; her husband also, 
 and he praiseth her. 
 
 Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou cxcellcst them 
 all.
 
 -1837 Anna Delicia Hook. 1 19 
 
 And not less applicable to her are the words of one of our 
 wisest and noblest poets : 
 
 A being breathing thoughtful breath, 
 A traveher between life and death, 
 The reason firm, the temperate will, 
 Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill : 
 A perfect woman, nobly planned 
 To warn, to comfort, and command : 
 And 3'et a spirit too, and bright, 
 With something of an angel light. 
 
 I have dwelt thus long upon the character of Mrs. Hook, 
 not only because it deserved some special notice, but also to 
 impress on the reader of the following pages that although com- 
 paratively few direct allusions to her may occur, it must never 
 be forgotten that, while her husband is the prominent actor in 
 the foreground, she is always a controlling regulating principle 
 in the background, and that without her it is not probable that 
 he ever would have become what he was, or have accomplished 
 the things which he did. 
 
 They were married on June 4, 1829, and in the latter part 
 of the summer the bells of Holy Trinity Church rang to 
 welcome the arrival of the Vicar and his bride. They took 
 up their abode in one of a row of small red brick houses in a 
 by-street called St. Nicholas Place, The street itself is rather 
 gloomy, but the situation is high, and the back windows com- 
 mand a good view of the ancient city of Coventry, out of the 
 midst of which rise conspicuous the two noble churches of St. 
 Michael and Holy Trinity with their graceful and lofty spires. 
 The house soon became too small for their needs, and they 
 then moved to a larger one in the Leicester Road, just outside 
 the town. 
 
 As the temporal condition of the people of Coventry was 
 deeply depressed when he entered upon his pastoral charge, so 
 also was the spirit of churchmanship at a low ebb. That kind 
 of irreverence towards holy places and holy things which is bred 
 partly of ignorance, partly of that indifference which is the re- 
 sult of ignorance, or at least of low and feeble ideas on the whole
 
 1 20 Life of Walter Farqiihai'' Hook. 1829- 
 
 subjcct of religion, was prevalent and startling. He found that 
 it was the custom at vestry dinners to propose as the first toast 
 ' Trinity in Unity,' which was considered a pleasant punning 
 allusion to the dedication of the Church to the Holy Trinity ; 
 and no one seemed to have any perception of the profanity of 
 the practice until the new Vicar pointed it out and put a stop 
 to it. On such a subject he could speak with a dignified stern- 
 ness and a force of resolution which few dared to resist or dis- 
 obey. On one occasion a vestry meeting was so largely 
 attended that it was adjourned from the vestry to the church. 
 Several persons kept their hats on. The Vicar requested that 
 they would take them off, but they refused. ' Very well, 
 gentlemen,' he replied, ' but remember that in this house the 
 insult is not done to me, but to your God ; ' and the hats were 
 immediately taken off. 
 
 In the arrangements of the church, the chief alterations which 
 he made consisted in removing a painting at the east end which 
 represented a kind of Moorish Temple, and placing a simple 
 Reredos in its stead, filling the east window with stained glass, 
 detaching the prayer desk from the pulpit, beneath which it had 
 stood facing the people, and turning it round so that the 
 officiating priest looked eastwards. On this subject there is 
 a very excellent letter by him in the ' British Magazine ' for 
 October 1833, in which he points out that 'confined in a narrow 
 box, the officiating minister cannot perform his various offices 
 as he ought to do ; with his face always turned to the people, 
 most of the people, listlessly lolling in their seats, seem to think 
 he is reading to them.'' The points on which he mainly insists 
 are : that when the priest is praying he ought to be as low as 
 possible in position, provided he can be heard ; and when 
 preaching only so high as conveniently to overlook his flock. 
 He also proves that the chancel is the proper place in which to 
 say the prayers \ but concludes, ' I am not visionary enough to 
 suppose that in these days Ave shall be permitted to go back to 
 the chancel, though I trust that I have shown that if we must 
 have a reading desk, we ought not to make it look like a 
 pulpit'
 
 _i837 Coventry. 12 r 
 
 He found that it was a common practice with liis parish- 
 ioners to attend church on Sunday morning and to go to some 
 Dissenting chapel in the evening. He tlierefore began evening 
 services on Sunday during the summer of 1830. These were 
 very largely attended, nearly 2,000 being generally present ; 
 ■and the people were so unwilling they should be dropped, that 
 in the month of August a meeting was held in the vestry, at 
 which it was resolved that the church should be lighted with 
 gas. The resolution was carried into effect, and on November 7, 
 1830, evening service was held for the first time in the newly 
 lighted church, being the first church e\er opened for evening 
 service in Coventry. 
 
 In Lent of the following year he gave a course of lectures, 
 which were delivered on the morning of each Wednesday, and 
 so great was the interest which they excited that, as I have 
 been told by an aged parishioner, who was then a young man 
 in a house of business, he and many others similarly occupied 
 used to get permission from their employers to leave their 
 offices to attend them. Others, who were unable to quit busi- 
 ness at that hour, entreated the Vicar to deliver the lectures in 
 the evening instead of the morning. Several anonymous letters 
 to this effect have come into my hands. In one of these the 
 •writer concludes, 'with many, many thanks for your unceasing 
 attention to our spiritual and also our temporal welfare, and 
 trusting that you may long be spared to dwell among us, I 
 remain, reverend sir, Your dutiful servant and parishioner.' 
 
 In Holy Week of the same year, or as it was then more 
 commonly called. Passion Week, he delivered day by day the 
 lectures which were afterwards published under the title of the 
 ^Last Days of our Lord's Ministry.' This was his first literary 
 venture, and not one of the least successful. He was en- 
 couraged to undertake the work by tlie learned and i)ious 
 Bishop of Limerick, Bishop J ebb, who had now been residing 
 some time for the sake of his health at Leamington, where 
 he had first formed in 1828 an acquaintance with Mr. Hook 
 which had soon ripened into a close and affectionate friendship. 
 The Bishop corrected the proofs of the vohur.e, suggested the
 
 122 Life of Waller Farquhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 title, and in part composed tlie dedication, which runs thus : 
 ' To WiUiam Page Wood, of Lincohi's Inn, Esq., late Fellow of 
 Trinity College, Cambridge, this volume is inscribed as the 
 record of an early and unintermitting friendship.' He received 
 letters expressing high admiration of the work from Southey, 
 Wordsworth, Joshua Watson, Mr. Le Bas, Dr. Butler, after- 
 wards Bishop of IJchfield, Bishop jNIonk of Gloucester, and 
 Judge Alan Park, who took a kind of fatherly interest in his 
 career. 
 
 But perhaps the testimony which he valued most of all was 
 that of good Bishop Jolly, who in writing to thank him for the 
 copy which had been presented to him, said, ' You have traced 
 the adorable steps of our Divine Redeemer dying for us, in such 
 a manner as has affected my heart and repeatedly sent me to my 
 prayers.' 
 
 And the following acknowledgment of a similar gift from 
 one of his churchwardens, who made it his special business ta 
 keep all the parochial accounts, was just the kind of evidence 
 that he had not laboured in vain in which his pastoral heart 
 especially delighted, and which, more than any other kind of 
 praise, stimulated him to further exertions. 
 
 If at any period I have in the least degree contributed to your 
 comfort and convenience, I am amply rewarded by your confidence 
 and esteem, and by the advantages which I have derived from your 
 ministerial instructions. 
 
 That you may long continue to be our pastor and guide, is the 
 earnest prayer of your devoted, faithful servant, 
 
 Ja:\ies Wall. 
 
 This course of lectures, like so many other things which he 
 said and did, would scarcely deserve special mention, save as 
 an illustration of the manner in which he led the van in the 
 reformation and revival of the Church, anticipating to a great 
 extent that more general revival which was afterwards the result 
 of the Tractarian or Oxford movement. And this indeed is the 
 impression which his ministry at Coventry seems to have left 
 most deeply engraven in the minds of those who lived under it.
 
 -1 837 Coventry. 123 
 
 Aged parishioners, to whom I appHed for information respecting 
 his work amongst them, while in some instances unable to re- 
 call many particulars of it, were all unanimous in saying, ' He 
 was the beginner of all things here ; he set everything a going.' 
 And this is a truth which cannot too constantly be borne in 
 mind in reading the record of his early life. Sunday evening 
 services, frequent communions. Saints' day services — these are 
 wonderfully common things now, but they were rare novelties 
 then. The voice of the Church had been almost dumb during 
 the season of Lent, and 
 
 He was the first that ever burst 
 Into that silent sea. 
 
 The multiplication therefore of services and sermons by the 
 Vicar of Holy Trinity may well have been deemed amazing. 
 He did not, however, multiply services without seeking so to 
 instruct and train his flock that they might comprehend and 
 value them. This he did by frequent explanations in his 
 sermons of the several offices in our Prayer Book, more par- 
 ticularly in the year 1834 by a complete series of lectures on 
 the Liturg}'. His Sunday evening sermons almost always con- 
 sisted of an expository course upon some subject, or upon some 
 book of Holy Scripture. For several years he was engaged in 
 this manner upon St. Matthew's Gospel, and the sermon, after- 
 wards so notorious, 'Hear the Church,' was originally composed 
 for this series. 
 
 Thus he gathered around him a body of intelligent as well 
 as devout worshippers ; persons who felt the influence of his 
 learning as well as of his piety. How intense his own devotion 
 was, those who saw and heard him minister in the services of 
 the Church could best understand ; and how deeply he felt his 
 responsibility as a leader of the devotions of others may be 
 gathered from the following letter to Mr. Wood. 
 
 I find it always wise to keep quiet in my study on Monday. 
 The increasing^ excitement and fatigue during twelve hours on the 
 Lord's Day demand that kind of rest which I can only find in my 
 study. A layman is not aware of what a High Church parson
 
 1 24 Life of Walier Farqtthar Hook. 1829- 
 
 goes through on a Sunday. To say nothing of the noise of schools, 
 and the fatigue of catechising and preaching, a layman has in 
 church to do little else than join in the devotion. But a clergyman, 
 besides praying, has also the excitement of endeavouring to set off 
 the glorious services of the Church to the best advantage. Even 
 if he does not officiate at the prayers, still he has to respond loud, 
 and to take the lead, so as to excite others to do their duty — that 
 duty which Protestants so sadly neglect. Then if you find your 
 congregation joining well, there is the excitement of joy : if not 
 there is the annoyance ; and all this coexisting with one's own 
 devotions, \\ith the feeling that you are in some degree responsible 
 for the deficiencies of the congregation ; — all this quite knocks me 
 up, not on the Sunday, but on the Monday morning, and I conse- 
 quently feel it quite important to remain quiet. 
 
 The rapid and steady increase in the number of children 
 attending the Sunday schools is a powerful indication of the 
 l^rogress made in this most important branch of pastoral work. 
 In the summer of 1829, when the Vicar entered on his charge, 
 the total was 120. In August 1834 the number had risen to 
 524 boys and 407 girls; fifty-two adults also were instructed on 
 Sunday evenings, and before the Vicar quitted Coventry in 1837 
 the total number of Sunday-school children considerably ex- 
 ceeded 1,200. His old scholars retain a lively impression of 
 his teaching and catechising ; he was never dull and heavy, and 
 whilst severe in the repression of levity or irreverence, he at 
 times rallied the interest of the children and won their sympathy 
 by mingling fun with his reproofs. ' Why, wliat is the matter 
 Avith you?' he said one cold winter's morning, when he thought 
 the children of his class were slow in answering ; ' I think the 
 frost has got into your throats.' There was something in his 
 tone and manner, as he said it, which tickled the fancy of the 
 children, and their wits and voices were effectually thawed for 
 the rest of the school hour. How complete was the control 
 which he exercised over them, was curiously illustrated one day 
 in church. They had been noisy and ill-behaved during the 
 service, and conseciuently in his semion he addressed them in 
 a particularly grave and earnest manner, ending with an appeal 
 to their good feelings, and saying, ' I am sure, my dear children,
 
 -1 837 Coventry. 125 
 
 you won't do this again ; ' whereupon they stood up in a body 
 there and then, and replied, ' No, sir ; we won't.' 
 
 Besides reviving and extending the Sunday schools, he was 
 the principal founder of other useful institutions, some of 
 which continue in a highly flourishing condition to the present 
 day. 
 
 I am endeavouring (he writes in 1S30) to establish an infant 
 school, a dispensary, and a savings' bank ; on the first I am 
 opposed by Dissenters because I insist on the master being a 
 member of the Church, but I have triumphed gloriously, as I have 
 300/. and they only loo/. On the second, I am opposed by the 
 doctors ; and on the third, by the bankers, publicans, and brewers. 
 We are all, however, very good friends. 
 
 The infant school was opened in January 1831. The dis- 
 pensary was started in 1830, but owing partly to the depression 
 in trade and the secretary becoming insane, it remained for 
 some time almost in abeyance. At length in 1834, trade having 
 become more prosperous, Mr. Dresser, a gentleman who to 
 this day takes an active part in the management of the institu- 
 tion, suggested to the Vicar that the opportunity was favourable 
 lor reviving it. The Vicar took up the matter most warmly, 
 and became himself one of the six trustees. The thing was es- 
 tabUshed on a sound, self supporting basis, and is perhaps the 
 most thriving institution of its class in the kingdom. The' free 
 members subscribe a penny a week ; the number of free 
 members is about 13,000, and their subscriptions amount to 
 1,500/. a year, enabling the committee to pay three surgeons at 
 the rate of nearly 300/. a year each. 
 
 The savings' bank also was established mainly through the 
 exertions of the Vicar in 1834. The balance in the first year 
 was 124/. : the present amount of deposits from 7,300 depo- 
 sitors is about 225,000/. with a surplus fund of 4,300/. Of 
 course the lasting prosperity of these and similar institutions 
 has been due not only to the sound principles on which they 
 were originally based, but also to the skill and energy of those 
 who have been concerned in the management of them ; but all 
 who recollect their foundation agree in attributing it to the
 
 126 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1829- 
 
 activily and perseverance of the Vicar. In matters of this kind 
 his power consisted not in working the practical details ot 
 business, for which he never had any aptitude or liking, but 
 first of all in getting hold of the right workmen, and then 
 interesting them in their duty and animating them with zeal to 
 discharge it. 
 
 The institution in which, from the nature of the case, he 
 took the most lively interest was the Religious and Useful 
 Knowledge Society, which was founded in May 1835 for the 
 jjurpose of forwarding such knowledge by means of a library, 
 classes of instruction, and periodical lectures. The Society for 
 Promoting Christian Knowledge made a grant of books to the 
 value of 25/., which was the starting-point of the library. The 
 Vicar was indefatigable in securing lecturers and giving lectures 
 himself, which were delivered during the first winter in St. 
 Mary's Hall. The subscriptions to the society were one shil- 
 ling, half-a-crown, or five shillings a quarter, and the society was 
 so popular that in January 1836 it was resolved that a room 
 should be built or bought in which the library might be kept 
 and the lectures carried on. This society and the Mechanics' 
 Institute were afterwards united under the name of the 
 Coventry Institute, which still exists, but is used more as a 
 reading room and club than anything else ; the Free Library, 
 School of Art, and Science classes having superseded the more 
 educational purposes to which it was formerly devoted. 
 
 One of his last acts on behalf of the society before he left 
 Coventry was to write an application for support to Sir Robert 
 Peel, as being an owner of land in the neighbourhood, to which 
 he received the following reply. 
 
 I am afraid my local interest in connexion with Coventry is too 
 remote to enable me on that grouiid to accede to your request, 
 without the establishment of rather an inconvenient precedent, 
 liut the insufficiency of that claim on my contribution is amply sup- 
 ])lied by my respect for your character and for your unremitting and 
 successful exertions to promote the moral and religious instruction 
 of the people committed to your spiritual charge. I have with
 
 -i837 Coventry. 127 
 
 pleasure, therefore, enclosed the sum of lo/. in aid of the object in 
 respect to which you have addressed me. 
 
 The origin and early progress of this society are described 
 by the Vicar in the following letter, dated June 1836, to the 
 Dean of Hereford, who seems to have applied for information 
 concerning it as a guide to himself in establishing something of 
 the same nature. 
 
 Very reverend and dear Sir, ... As this society has gradually 
 arisen from the circumstances of this place and not from an}' par- 
 ticular plan devised bj^ me, I must trouble you with a little history 
 in order to enable you to perceive its nature ; and at the same 
 time I must disclaim any wish to hold it forth as a model. It is 
 adapted, I think, to our position — in another place it might require 
 various modifications. Indeed, it has been always my rule of con- 
 duct not to adopt any general theory as to the management of 
 a parish or the regulation of schools : but, having formed certain 
 principles (from which I never permit any notions of expedi- 
 ency to lead me to deviate), to take the materials I find, and to 
 mould them, not into the best shape I can imagine, but into the 
 best that circumstances will admit. I have invariably main- 
 tained strong Church principles, and declared my resolution never 
 to act on any others : and then I leave them to do their work. 
 Of these principles this society is the fruit — as will now be seen. 
 
 When first I came here about eight years ago, I of course cate- 
 chised the children regularly at church. As the children in the upper 
 classes became too old for school, they many of them requested per- 
 mission to stay as teachers. To this, of course, I readily consented. 
 Their number increasing, theyformed themselves into a society under 
 the superintendence of the clergy of the parish. And now we have a 
 Sunday school of nearly twelve hundred children, managed almost 
 entirely by these teachers, about fifty in number. The clergy have 
 only to look into the school for a few minutes before church to see 
 that all is going on right, and the teachers bring what classes they 
 think fit to be catechised at church. With these persons of course 
 a familiar intercourse has taken place ; and with the clergy of the 
 town and neighbourhood, churchwardens, &c., we go out into the 
 country in the summer and dine together, while at Christmas 
 they all dine with me. These are all very zealous churchmen,
 
 1 28 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1829- 
 
 and titcy are the originators of the society in question. About 
 twelve months ago they came to me, and said they were much in 
 want of the means of self-improvement, and that young persons 
 who had left school had only the resource of the Mechanics' 
 Institute, which having been started by the Political Union was 
 managed by Radicals and Dissenters, and where all the good 
 principles imbibed at school were destroyed. They complained 
 also that the Church w^as continually attacked by persons in their 
 own line of life, and that they had no books to refer to for the 
 defence of their principles. They suggested, therefore, the estab- 
 lishment of a Mechanics' Institute on right principles. I accord- 
 ingly called them together, asking one or two other friends to attend, 
 when they proposed that the Bishop should be President, the 
 Archdeacon Vice-President, and that eveiy clergyman in the town 
 should be ex officio on the committee, which would consist besides 
 of fifteen members. The property was vested in four trustees, 
 who have a veto on all proceedings of the committee. To exclude 
 politics, the trustees consist ot two Tories and two Whigs. There 
 are three classes of subscribers, 5.r. per quarter, 2s. 6d. per quarter, 
 and !.$■. per quarter — thus to admit all orders of society. The first 
 class have tickets of admission to all lectures, transferable, and 
 may also introduce a friend ; the second class, transferable tickets ; 
 the third class, non-transferable tickets. The object is here to 
 bring all kinds of people together. There is a reading-room open 
 every evening from seven to nine o'clock, an important arrange- 
 ment, as many young apprentices go to an alehouse merely because 
 they have no comfortable apartment in which to sit. On the table 
 we have the * Saturday ' and ' Penny Magazine,' the ' British ' and 
 the ' New Monthly,' ' Chambers's Edinburgh Journal,' &c., and any 
 books may be had from the libraiy. Classes are formed for read- 
 ing history, for arithmetic, and drawing. I conduct one myself of 
 divinity,' chiefly of young shopkeepers, and relating to Church 
 histoiy and those questions in religion which cannot be conveni- 
 ently handled in the pulpit. We have already about nine hundred 
 volumes in the libraiy in various branches of literature. For I am 
 very desirous of cultivating among the people not merely a scientific 
 but a literary turn of mind, to induce them to relish poetry and 
 works of imagination : for the civilised mind is best prepared to 
 give the heart to religion. We have had lectures given, twelve on 
 experimental philosophy, twelve on physiolog^^, two on perspective, 
 one on the origin and progress of society, and I am now preparing
 
 -1837 Coventry. 129 
 
 one on the history of literature and science. We have upwards 
 of six hundred members. We have met with most violent and 
 furious opposition from Dissenters of all classes except Wesleyans. 
 I have been abused most fiercely in the Radical paper, and the 
 Mechanics' Institute, from a spirit of opposition, has increased from 
 sixty members to two hundred. But this only shows that we are 
 doing good. Such is our history. 
 
 The remarks at the close of this letter are eminently charac- 
 teristic of the writer, and illustrate his favourite maxim, that 
 plentiful abuse partly indicated, partly promoted, the prosperity 
 of the cause which was attacked. His parting words to the 
 members of the society, in which he sketched the history of its 
 progress, were to the same effect. ' At first the members had 
 pursued the noiseless tenor of their way unmolested, an in- 
 significant body. But the little society had grown into a large 
 and important institution, and then like all other prosperous 
 parties they were surrounded with a host of opponents and 
 revilers. But the society when reviled reviled not again, and 
 the good policy of this conduct became apparent, since their 
 opponents saved them the trouble of advertising.' 
 
 The manner also in which the society grew up, as described 
 in the beginning of his letter, is a good example of the way in 
 which, alike at Coventry and Leeds, he always adapted his 
 action to circumstances and never forced circumstances to 
 square with some preconceived plan of action. He inculcated 
 principles and left them to work. The consequence of this wise 
 policy was, that to a great extent the action of the Church in 
 his parish proceeded from the laity ; it was the spontaneous 
 fruit of the spirit and of the principles which they imbibed 
 from him. Hence, also, they took an uncommon pride and 
 interest in things which were their own production. Writing 
 later in life he says, ' My plan has never been to force a practice, 
 but rather to have things forced upon me. My aim has been 
 to lay down principles and encourage a certain kind of spirit : 
 then, after a time, as men love to find fault, they have blamed 
 me for not acting up to my principles. The answer is then 
 ready : " OIi ! very well; \i yoii wish it, I will do it." Thus a 
 
 K
 
 130 Life of Walter Far quhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 choral service at Leeds was actually forced upon me.' And 
 here we have a key to the meaning of his famous saying many 
 years afterwards at the Church Congress in Manchester, where 
 he had been asked to describe how he managed his parish : 'I 
 did not manage it; the parish managed me.' 
 
 After this general sketch of his work at Coventry it only 
 remains to mention, in their chronological order, a few events 
 which seem to require a more particular notice. 
 
 First among these must be placed the remonstrance which 
 he addressed, in 1830, to his diocesan, Dr. Ryder, the Bishop 
 of Lichfield and Coventry, for presiding at a meeting of the 
 Bible Society in Coventry. The letter has a twofold interest, 
 because it was employed as a weapon against him, seven years 
 afterwards, by the party which vehemently opposed his election 
 to the Vicarage of Leeds. 
 
 The following is a copy of the letter : 
 
 My Lord,— We feci it to oe our duty respectfully to represent 
 (o your lordship the mischief that is likely to result to the cause 
 of religion in this city, from your determination to preside at the 
 meeting of the Bible Society on Thursday next. 
 
 Surrounded by Dissenting teachers, your lordship will not be 
 supported by the clergy of this town, with perhaps one solitaiy ex- 
 ception. And we do earnestly request your lordship to reflect on 
 the impression which will be made on the minds of our people 
 when they see their Bishop co-operating with sectarians in pro- 
 moting measures uncalled for by the exigencies of the place, and 
 inconsistent with the principles inculcated by their more immediate 
 pastors. As far as our own parish is concerned, if your lordship's 
 object is to supply us with Bibles, we can obtain all that we require 
 from the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge ; if it be to 
 levy contributions for the speculations of the society in foreign 
 parts, we beg to inform your lordship that the demands upon the 
 charity of our more opulent parishioners for local purposes are 
 already greater than can be easily met, and that the poor will be 
 injured in proportion as the society is benefited. We will take the 
 hberty further to observe that your lordship compels us, in self- 
 defence, to state to those persons committed to our charge what 
 our reasons are for declining to support a society at which our
 
 -1 837 Epileptic Attacks. 131 
 
 Bishop presides. If we fail to convince them that we are right, we 
 shall expose ourselves to their contempt, and our ministrations will 
 become ineffectual ; if, on the other hand, we succeed, we shall do 
 what is equally to be deprecated, by rendering our Bishop obnoxious 
 to their censures ; or, at all events, those who hold to the one side 
 will despise those who hold to the other ; and while we are humbly 
 •endeavouring to promote harmony and goodwill in our parish, your 
 lordship will, unintentionally, be the means of exciting a party 
 spirit, than which nothing can be more detrimental to the sacred 
 cause in which we are engaged. So important it is, in an extensive 
 parish like this, to maintain unanimity and concord, among Church- 
 men at least, that we seriously and solemnly, in the name of our 
 common Lord and Master, entreat and implore your lordship not 
 to sow among us the seeds of discord. 
 
 Your lordship is so honest in the discharge of all that you con- 
 ceive to be your duty, that we feel assured you will not be unneces- 
 sarily offended at our maintaining our own principles with equal 
 honesty and zeal, or at our endeavouring to avert what we have 
 reason to know will be attended with the most mischievous conse- 
 quences, by causing a division in our flock and by affording a 
 triumph to Dissenters. 
 
 On the merits or demerits of the Bible Society we at present 
 say nothing. Our observations have reference only to your lordship's 
 supporting it, so far as our parish is concerned, in opposition to 
 our wishes, and in spite of our well-known opinions and principles. 
 With our humble but hearty prayers to Him from whom all good 
 counsels as well as all just works do proceed, that He may vouch- 
 safe to direct your lordship to a wise decision upon the subject, we 
 have the honour to remain 
 
 Your lordship's obedient servants. 
 
 In 1 83 1 he was attacked with fits of an epileptic nature, in 
 which he lost his consciousness and lay to all appearance as 
 one dead for five or ten minutes. They were attributed by the 
 doctors to over anxiety and excitement of the brain. His first 
 seizure was during the Archdeacon's visitation in June 1831. 
 He turned faint while reading the prayers in his church, and 
 was carried in an unconscious state into the vestry, where he 
 recovered, and wrote a note to his mother, who was then at 
 Leamington. Fearing lest she should hear an exaggerated
 
 132 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 nccount, he makes as light of it as possible, and attributes it 
 mainly to a little worry and nervous anxiety lest the Archdeacon, 
 an Evangelical, should say anything unorthodox in his church, 
 and so interfere with his usefulness. 
 
 His father-in-law, Dr. Johnstone, insisted on his abstaining 
 from all parochial work for a time, and the greater part of 
 the summer was spent under Dr. Johnstone's roof, where he 
 gradually regained his nervous power. The preparation of his 
 lectures on ' The Last Days of our Lord's Ministry,' for publi- 
 cation, was his chief occupation during this period of enforced 
 leisure. He was -not permitted to return to his parish before 
 September. The enthusiasm with which he was greeted by 
 his flock filled him with delight, and made him set about his 
 work again with renewed energy and spirit. ' On coming out 
 of church,' he writes to Mr. Wood, 'the first evening that I 
 preached, there was quite a mob round the door of people 
 rushing forwards to shake hands with me, and my hand, though 
 a good stout one, was nearly squeezed to a mummy.' And 
 the following letter to his mother describes the occasion more 
 minutely. 
 
 September 1831. 
 My dearest Mother, — You will be glad to hear that I am won- 
 derfully well this morning ; I only went to church once yesterday, 
 that is to say, in the evening, when I preached. Delicia had made 
 me go on Saturday morning by way of a break, and it was lucky I 
 <5id, for the manner in which I was received as I drove through the 
 town, and the way all the old people came up to shake hands with 
 me, with tears in their eyes, quite affected me ; nothing could have 
 been more gratifying to my pastoral feelings than my reception 
 yesterday ; there was an immense congregation, and as I left the 
 church there was quite a mob collected round the door to shake 
 hands with me, and bless me ; it was indeed one of the happiest 
 moments of my life ; may God Almighty bless them all. How- 
 much has poor Coventry been maligned. I was affected when I 
 began my sermon, but soon took courage and proceeded right well, 
 although to add to my nervousness someone fainted almost as soon 
 as I commenced. I took for my text Psalm cxix. 71 : ' It is good 
 for me that I have been afflicted.' Coker Adams and his warm- 
 hearted family were all present, and nothing could have been
 
 -1 837 Epileptic Attacks. 133 
 
 kinder. The churchwardens are to apprehend me if I go into the 
 town on week-day duty, and to take me before Coker Adams as a 
 Justice of the Peace. 
 
 He was not wholly free from epileptic attacks for three or 
 four years, and sometimes had to suspend work to recover his 
 strength, and for a time the thought of resigning Coventry and 
 seeking a rural parish was seriously entertained by him and his 
 friends. But gradually the attacks abated, until he attained 
 that singularly robust state of health which he continued to 
 enjoy far into old age. The recovery and subsequent preserva- 
 tion of his health were due day by day to his wife, in a measure 
 which can hardly be over-estimated. By her union of cheer- 
 fulness, common sense, and piety, she exercised that calming, 
 soothing influence which had a most salutary effect, physical as 
 well as moral, upon his sensitive and excitable temperament. 
 
 I am very sorry to think (she writes during one of his absences 
 from home) of you as being so languid and nervous. It is a sign 
 of an overwrought mind. I, too, have suffered 'no end' from my 
 nerves, and have come to an idea on the subject which, I think, 
 has helped me more than anything else to act against the malady. 
 It seems to me that when we are placed in a situation tolerably free 
 from temptation of an ordinary kind, and when God has blessed us 
 with a frequent and free access to the means of grace, by which we 
 have been enabled to subdue our passions and submit our wills to 
 His, He allows the devil to work upon us in another way, by 
 turning the very sensitiveness which God has given for a special bless- 
 ing, into a temptation. I have endeavoured to battle and subdue 
 these feelings in every way in my power, and have found if I take 
 them in that light, that I can put aside the perplexing feelings. 
 Here is my philosophy ; and from what I have observed of your 
 cranky fits, I am almost sure a similar course would answer. 
 Never allow yourself wittingly any contortions of feature or body, 
 they only add to the misery ; and set about doing something quite 
 in an opposite line to that which worries you. 
 
 By the close of the summer of 1834, his health seemed to 
 be re-established — his wife writes in July that he was in ' mon- 
 strous spirits, and had not been so well for ages,' and that he
 
 134 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 had left off the wig which he had worn since his first attack, 
 after which his head had been shaved. Some persons in 
 Coventry have a lively recollection of his wig, for in his fits of 
 boisterous mirth he would sometimes take it off and kick it 
 across the room. 
 
 In the autumn, however, of this year, his health was again, 
 a cause of uneasiness. There was a slight recurrence of the 
 fits, and he again went for rest and retirement and medical 
 care to his father-in-law's house. He preached two sermons 
 at Oxford in November, having been appointed one of the 
 select preachers for the University, and it is not improbable 
 that this effort, which seems to have caused him much nervous 
 anxiety, may have partly occasioned his relapse. He did not^ 
 however, betray any symptoms of weakness during his visit to 
 Oxford, and the sermons were considered eminently successful. 
 His cousin, Walter Hamilton, afterwards Bishop of Salisbury, 
 writes to Mrs. Hook : ' He was looking very well, was in ex- 
 cellent voice, and commanded the most complete attention. 
 I never recollect so strong an impression created. He preached 
 in the morning on the Glory of God, and in the evening on 
 the Special Providence of God. His matter was most eloquent, 
 and his manner very impressive and effective. In the evening 
 the church was crowded to excess.' 
 
 The following letters, however, show that his health was 
 unsettled throughout the latter half of the year 1834, and that 
 he still clung to the idea of retirement to a country living. 
 
 To Archdeacon Hamilton. 
 
 Coventry : August 5, 1834. 
 My dear Uncle, — When I was at Leamington on Friday, my 
 mother showed me a copy of the note you wrote to the Chancellor, 
 requesting him to give me St. George's, Bloomsbury ; and I cannot 
 refrain from expressing to you my warmest and most grateful 
 thanks for your consideration of me. Your kindness to me on 
 this and very many other occasions I feel indeed most deeply. 
 About the same time I had been privately informed my dear friend 
 Archdeacon Bayley was trying to obtain for me St. Margaret's, 
 Westminster ; but the Dean of Ripon will not now resign, as the
 
 -1 837 Sermons at Oxford. 135 
 
 Bishop of Lichfield threatens, in the event of a vacancy, to hold it 
 in commendam. But the object of our wishes is a country living ; 
 and if I might name a living, it would be Hertingfordbury. Delicia 
 and I are quite agreed on that pomt ; and the innocent pleasures 
 of a country life are those most to be desired for my little ones, to 
 whom is due my first and dearest duty. I have been thirteen years in 
 holy orders, and seven of these I have spent in situations as diffi- 
 cult and laborious as any in England ; and if I live for two or 
 three years longer I shall think myself privileged to retire, for I am 
 come to St. Basil's opinion that happiness is to be found in quiet. 
 Fervour and zeal are providentially ordained to set us a-going on 
 our Christian course ; but the perfection of a Christian life is to be 
 found in calmness and peace. Give my love to Walter, and tell 
 him how happy we shall be to see him here, though our cool tem- 
 perature will but ill accord with his boiling heat. From what I 
 have heard and seen of my reverend cousin, I suspect that he has 
 taken his place in his friend Wordsworth's boat, ' in shape a very 
 crescent moon,' and gone up into the clouds, looking after what 
 he will not find, the goddess Perfection. If this be so, I am glad 
 of it ; few men are worth anything who have not wandered a little 
 among the clouds ; and then by degrees they come down, and 
 find that men, though not perfect, may gradually pass from dutiful 
 sons to affectionate parents and kind masters, and die good honest 
 Christians, and that such are the characters to be valued. 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq.—Sej'iiions at Oxford. 
 
 Oxford : November 3, 1834. 
 
 My dearest Friend, — Although I have so much to do, say, and 
 see, that I cannot write a long letter, yet I know that you will like to 
 receive a line from me, and to hear that I am passing well. I 
 preached twice yesterday, and although I did not preach as well as 
 I could wish, yet I hope I may have set some young heads a-think- 
 ing in the right way, which is what I aim at in my sermons, since 
 two undergraduates have called upon me to request permission to 
 read my evening sermon. As they are perfect strangers to me I 
 shall refuse to lend the sermon, but I am going to their college 
 (Lincoln), and shall read it over to them with my comments ; thus 
 I am going to give a divinity lecture. 
 
 I have been amused (and so will you be) at finding in a French 
 paper (' L'Univers,' just brought to me by an acquaintance at
 
 136 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1829- 
 
 Worcester College) a quotation from my sermon on the Church, 
 almost every word, by-the-bye, spelt wrong. I am classed with 
 Bishop Jebb, Reveridge isic)^ Joseph Mdde, Hammond, and others 
 among the great divines of the Church of England. I was going 
 to return home to-morrow, but having received an invitation from 
 Dr. Burton, 1 thought it right to accept it. The Dean of Christ 
 Church has also invited me, which is very civil, for Oxford is a per- 
 fect aristocracy ; the heads of houses keep entirely aloof from the 
 masters, and the masters from the undergraduates ; which is, I 
 think, on the whole, a good thing. It was rather awful to sit in a 
 large kind of chapter room, before going in to sermon, and to see 
 the heads of houses one by one come in, not deigning a look, each 
 silently taking his place till the procession was prepared to move 
 into church. It is a good thing to find how infinitely small one 
 really is, after having played the great man in a parish. My recep- 
 tion in Oxford, after so many years of absence, has been very grati- 
 fying and, indeed, flattering. 
 
 To the Bishop of Lichfield. 
 
 Coventry : December 29, 1834. 
 
 My Lord, — The kindness of your last letter encourages me to 
 make a request to your lordship. My medical friends concur 
 with your lordship in thinking it to be essential to my health that 
 I should quit the noise and oppositions of this place ; and although 
 I should regret to leave a parish where I am now enjoying the 
 fruits of my past labour, yet, with an increasing family, I think it 
 my duty to listen to their advice. 
 
 It is not, indeed, to be supposed that anyone who has a plea- 
 sant country living will be willing to exchange it for this ; but 
 I have sufficient interest with Lord Lyndhurst to feel sure that on 
 my resigning this piece of preferment, he would be willing to pre- 
 sent me to some other of equal value, upon my application. 
 
 The difficulty is, to know where an eligible rectory within 
 reasonable distance of London is, or is likely to be, vacant. And 
 my request, therefore, to your lordship is, that you will have the 
 kindness to inform me whenever you know such to be the case. I 
 beg to apologise for this intrusion upon your valuable time, an intru- 
 sion which may be considered as the penalty for having made me 
 what I most sincerely am, my lord. 
 
 Your lordship's ever obliged and dutiful servant.
 
 -1837 Visit of Bishop Low. 137 
 
 But before the offer of the country living came, he had 
 shaken off the malady (which never returned) and was physically 
 prepared for the gigantic labours which he was destined to 
 undertake and accomplish. 
 
 On the complete restoration of his health in 1835, a very 
 handsome and costly testimonial of plate, to which the poor 
 subscribed in large numbers as well as the rich, was presented 
 to him. In the course of his reply to the address made at the 
 time of presentation, the Vicar said, ' It has been my endeavour 
 to unite with the firmest and most uncompromising adherence to 
 the principles of that blessed Church of which you are respected 
 members, and of which I glory in being a minister, the greatest 
 courtesy towards those who unfortunately differ from us, the 
 greatest charity in judging of the motives of others, and good- 
 will towards all men. By this public mark of your approbation 
 I presume that you desire me to persevere in this course, and 
 by God's help so I will.' 
 
 The only remaining event of importance which deserves a 
 separate notice was the visit, in the summer of 1833, of Dr. 
 Low, Bishop of Ross, Moray, and Argyll, whose friendship he 
 had formed on the occasion of the consecration of Dr. Luscombe 
 in 1825. 
 
 The last relic of oppression of the Church of Scotland was 
 not yet removed by the repeal of the Act which prohibited 
 anyone who had received holy orders in that Church from 
 ministering in England.^ The Vicar of Trinity shortly before 
 the arrival of the Bishop was dining with his old friend Judge 
 Park. ' I told him,' he writes to Dr. Low, ' with some com- 
 placency that I was expecting a visit from, your reverence, 
 when he reminded me of the iniquitous Act of Parliament 
 which prevents your officiating in England. I replied that I 
 should elevate a seat within the rails of the altar for the Bishop, 
 and though the State might silence him, the Church should 
 receive him with the same episcopal honour as she would offer 
 to our own diocesan. You will be received in this house by 
 as firm and true a body of the clergy as any in England, many 
 
 ' This Act was repealed in 1840.
 
 138 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1829- 
 
 of whom are devoted admirers of your Church — some, indeed, 
 made so by me, for I speak of my visit to the Scotch Church 
 wherever I go, and I have lent all the books bearing upon your 
 history to the right hand and to the left.' 
 
 The Bishop accordingly was welcomed at Coventry with all 
 the honour which the clergy could pay him. Besides being 
 conducted into the church with the reverence usually shown 
 to episcopal visitors, and being placed in the seat of dignity 
 within the sanctuary, he was also entertained at a public dinner 
 which all the clergy of the neighbourhood attended. The 
 event was thoroughly gratifying to the Vicar, who delighted 
 in any opportunity, however small, of testifying to the unity 
 of the Reformed Catholic Church by paying equal honour to 
 all branches of it, whether established or disestablished. To 
 enlighten the profound ignorance which then commonly pre- 
 vailed respecting the Episcopal Churches in Scotland and 
 America, to kindle an interest in their welfare, and to promote 
 their prosperity by every means which lay within his power, 
 was in fact one of the labours of his life. The condition indeed 
 of the American Church about this time was viewed by him, 
 and some of his Oxford friends, especially Mr. Newman and 
 Dr. Pusey, with considerable anxiety. The opinions and the 
 tone of some of the American clergy and Bishops who had 
 recently visited England seemed to them far from satisfactory. 
 On the subject of Baptismal Regeneration, especially, there 
 seemed reason to fear that the American Church might split 
 into two sections — the western taking the extreme Protestant 
 view, the New York connexion following the Catholic doctrine. 
 Mr. Newman thought it would be highly desirable that two or 
 three able and learned men of sound views should go over to 
 New York and make it their head-quarters for several years, 
 for the purpose of propagating Catholic truth; but it seemed 
 impossible to find men who combined ability, leisure, and 
 means to undertake the work. Mr. Hook proposed sending 
 books instead of men ; and started a subscription for purchasing 
 a complete set of the Fathers to be presented to the library of 
 the Episcopal College at New York. ' It is obvious,' he writes
 
 -1837 Love for Coventry. 139 
 
 to Mr. Newman in April 1835, 'that surrounded as the Church 
 there is by papists and fanatics, our grand hope under God 
 must rest with a learned clergy. . . . Certainly the divinity of 
 some of our Transatlantic brethren (and fathers even) is some- 
 what crude.' 
 
 As he lived to see his fears dispelled, and to esteem some 
 of the American clergy and Bishops, especially Dr. Doane, the 
 Bishop of New Jersey, as distinguished ornaments of the 
 Church, it was no small pleasure to him to reflect that he had 
 ever striven to promote intercourse between the English and 
 American members of the Church, and had thus helped to- 
 keep the Transatlantic branch steadfast in the faith. 
 
 The year 1836 was the last of his ministry at Coventry, 
 although there seemed every prospect of his remaining where he 
 was for some time to come, his health being now re-established 
 and all idea of seeking a country living being abandoned. He 
 was thoroughly contented, thoroughly happy. His habit indeed 
 of making the best of his circumstances whatever they were,, 
 which was due partly to his sanguine, manly, and cheerful dis- 
 position, partly to his trust in the providence of God, had never 
 failed him even when the state of his health seemed to indicate 
 the expediency of rest and change. 'Thank you,' he wrote to 
 a friend in the midst of that crisis, ' for wishing what I wish my- 
 self — a country parish ; not, however, that I wish to leave my 
 own dear parishioners, for I do really love Coventry from the 
 bottom of my heart, but I long to see woods, hills, and lakes j. 
 I quite pine for all this. Nevertheless, God's will be done. 
 Determined I am of one thing : to take things as they come, to 
 look on the bright side, to thank my Saviour and my God, and 
 to endeavour to show my gratitude by my obedience.' And 
 his obedience was rewarded by finding himself, after eight 
 years of labour in Coventry, the vicar of a grateful parish, and 
 triumphant over the opposition which he had encountered ia 
 the outset of his career. This, of course, had proceeded from 
 Dissenters and extreme Evangelicals, though it was never com- 
 parable in vehemence to that which he afterwards experienced 
 in Leeds. A Nonconformist minister in the city, a man of
 
 140 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 some ability, attempted, by delivering a set of lectures in his 
 chapel in 1834, to confute the lectures on the Liturgy which 
 were being given by the Vicar in his church ; but, as the Vicar 
 remarked, the attack upon his series had the effect of an 
 advertisement, and increased the number of his hearers. 
 
 On the first Sunday in each month he, at one time, omitted 
 a sermon owing to the large number of communicants. Some- 
 jealous Evangelicals represented this to the Bishop as a great 
 dereliction of duty, although at that very time, being the season 
 of Lent, he preached thrice every week. The Bishop, however, 
 although himself an Evangelical, was an extremely kind and 
 fair man, and dismissed the complaint with the contempt it 
 deserved. 
 
 There was one source of annoyance to which the Vicar 
 never was reconciled, and which I have often heard him say 
 was the only reason why he really was glad to leave Coventry. 
 The income of the living depended on a rate levied on all 
 householders in the parish. The system was so distasteful to 
 him that he never would push his rights against defaulters, and 
 consequently seldom received more than half the amount to 
 ■which he was entitled. The assessors of the rate were appointed 
 at a parish meeting, and, on one occasion, soon after he became 
 Vicar, the Dissenters procured the nomination of one of their 
 party with a view to annoying the Vicar and keeping down the 
 rate. But they had mistaken their man. The Vicar met him 
 soon after his appointment, shook hands with him in his 
 heartiest manner, saying, ' I am very glad you are appointed ; 
 I shall trust you to do all that is just and right, and that is all 
 I care about.' The man, however, did not relish his office and 
 resigned. 
 
 The year 1836 ended in grief. Mrs. Hook's father died on 
 December 28, and a few weeks before this event their eldest 
 and, at that time, their only boy was taken from them after a 
 lingering illness. The brief reports of his condition, written by 
 his father from day to day to various relations and friends, are 
 deeply affecting in their expression of passionate affection for 
 the child, coupled with meek submission to the will of God.
 
 -i837 Letters, 1 829-1 836. 14 r 
 
 And now and then, even in the midst of his anxiety and dis- 
 tress, the irrepressible vein of his playful humour comes to the 
 surface, as in one of the reports which is cast into the shape of 
 an official medical bulletin, and is addressed to his brother 
 Robert and Mr. and Mrs. Wood, as 
 
 Messrs. Robert, William, Charlotte, & Co. 
 
 Sympathisers, 
 
 London. 
 
 The invitation which he received to become a candidate- 
 for the Vicarage of Leeds, early in the following year, was a 
 salutary diversion to the thoughts of the sorrow-stricken parents,. 
 But a more particular account of his election to Leeds and 
 departure from Coventry must be reserved for another 
 chapter. 
 
 LETTERS, 1829- 1836. 
 
 To his Curate, Rev. E. Gibson. 
 
 Coventry : March lo, 1829. 
 
 My dear Sir, — I am extremely sorry to be obliged to quarrel 
 with you so early in our acquaintance, and especially after the very 
 kind and gratifying note which I have just received. 
 
 It is lucky that we are both parsons, or a duel would probably 
 ensue ; for you have treated with the greatest contempt one part of 
 my note yesterday — that which requested the pleasure of your 
 company at dinner. This is a kind of insult which can only be 
 atoned for by your making a point of dining with me in spite ot 
 any oiher engagement which you may have. No excuse what- 
 ever can be admitted, and therefore no further answer is required, 
 Come you must, or we must fight in private — without seconds, tO' 
 avoid the scandal. 
 
 To the same — written during his Wedding Tour. 
 
 Rue Castiglione, Paris : June 29, 1829. 
 [After asking for information about the Parish] — I am heartily 
 sick of Paris ; hate France, and think Frenchmen the most detes- 
 table of human beings. In three weeks I hope to be in dear old
 
 t42 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1829- 
 
 England, and never shall I wish again to quit her shores. I particu- 
 larly feel the want of clerical employment, and of books of reference 
 when reading the Bible. Should I not, however, return before the 
 Archdeacon's visitation, will you have the kindness to make my 
 apologies, and to take care that every kind of attention is shown 
 him ? I dislike the man's principles, and think the man himself a 
 humbug, but I should not like him to have it in his power to say 
 that I had shown any disrespect to his office ; I wish, therefore, to 
 be particular on this point. . . . 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. — Character of George IV. — Charitable 
 
 Judgments. 
 
 July 6, 1830. 
 
 ... I have felt much the death of poor King George, for he was 
 so kind a friend to my father and my grandfather, that 1 looked upon 
 him with something like family affection. When we consider the 
 faults of his education, the talent which was early used to corrupt 
 him, and the strength of the temptations to which he was exposed, 
 I think the judgment which has been passed upon him by the 
 London papers in general, harsh and unchristian. In such a case 
 especially, I hold that the rule ' Judge not ' is peculiarly applicable. 
 You, of course, have had other feelings towards him than I have 
 had, but now he is gone I dare say you feel as I do. 
 
 What a blessing it is to have been well and piously brought up 
 in middling life, and thus unexposed to those temptations to 
 which the extremes of high life and low life are so peculiarly 
 exposed. When we take eternity into consideration I think that 
 this is a blessing, the extent of which cannot be too highly esti- 
 mated. The very circumstance of being obliged to labour for sub- 
 sistence is the source of many virtues, to which a higher station 
 would render us strangers ; while the being exempted from actual 
 penurj' enables us to encourage those tastes and feelings, without 
 which the moral man cannot be brought to any degree of perfec- 
 tion. The more I see of the world, the more am I impressed with 
 the advantage of being placed in that station of life which leads a 
 man to labour in a liberal profession rather than in a trade ; though 
 I consider a trade, in nine instances out of ten, to be preferable 
 to an independent fortune. 
 
 To some few persons an independent fortune is an advantage ; 
 but how many does it ruin ? while the number of persons improved 
 by professional avocations, and even by professional ambition, is
 
 -i837 Letters, 1829- 1836. 143 
 
 incalculable. Your Charlotte may complain that your professional 
 business takes you too much from her ; but perhaps (tell her 
 not this, lest she utterly discard me), the very fact that you are 
 obliged sometimes to leave her renders the moments you spend in 
 her society doubly dear. 
 
 To the same — Recollectio7ts of School Days — Contenimeni — Fojyign 
 Churches and Sects — The Bible Society. 
 
 July ig, 1830. 
 
 My dearest Friend, . . . The disposition of my mind is to re- 
 vert to old times and old friends with more than usual fondness ; 
 I forget the discomforts of the former and the faults of the latter, 
 and love to remember them, and to cherish their memory. When 
 I think of Winchester I put out of consideration the floggings and 
 bullyings and revilings, which rendered me miserable on first going 
 to school ; and think only of the happy hours I used to pass with 
 my friend, with whom I did, indeed, take sweet counsel, and who 
 was always ready to sympathise with me under discomforts to 
 which I was more sensibly alive than most boys of my age. And 
 when I remember good old Gabell, I think only of his great kind- 
 ness, his very great kindness to me, and of the admirable manner 
 in which he instructed us, without reference to his occasional mis- 
 management out of school. I have seen him several times since, 
 and I love him the more, from the deep interest he seems always 
 to take in the welfare of his quondam naughty boys. Under these 
 circumstances, nothing touched me more than the delightful picture 
 you have drawn in your letter of the old man sitting in the House 
 of Commons, like a patriarch, surrounded by his children. I wish 
 I had been with you ; indeed, I wish more and more to be settled 
 in London. I should so like to mix under altered circumstances 
 with my contemporaries ; moreover, a little clerical and literary 
 society would do me good, in addition to the immense advantage — 
 leaving pleasure out of the question — which I should derive, as I 
 have always done, from a nearer intercourse with you. I think my 
 mind has much improved of late, and, I begin to hope that I could 
 stand my ground in such a field as London, without disgracing 
 myself or doing injury to the Church. I should have shrunk from 
 it a year or two ago. But, after all, what am I saying ? I scarcely 
 know whether I am speaking the truth ; I sometimes sit me down 
 and think that I am the most contented of human beings, since my
 
 144 ■^'^f^ ^f ^'^<^li^^ Farqiihar Hook. 1829- 
 
 church is just the kind of church I like, and my parish suited 
 to my abihtics ; while my new curate suits me in every way. But 
 at other times, when I try to wish for something, I wish for 
 London. This is a kind of contradiction, but it is that kind of 
 contradiction which, I presume, exists occasionally in all minds in 
 a healthy state. My notion is, that we should always be so con- 
 tented as never to envy anyone else ; and yet not so contented as 
 to prevent a proper degree of emulation. While acting from the 
 higher motives of religion, we are not to eradicate but to direct 
 the inferior motives which set human nature in motion ; cha- 
 racter is to be continually improved, and as long as this process is 
 going on, no matter how it is accomplished ; for the glory is to be 
 ascribed to God, whose providence ordains those circumstances 
 under which we are placed. 
 
 With respect to your observations about the circulation of the 
 Scriptures in Greece, &c., you, by taking a view rather inclining ta 
 one side, and I, by taking a view rather inclining to the other side, 
 without materially disagreeing, would perhaps arrive at an 
 opinion in which there would be a shade, and only a shade of diffe- 
 rence. My studies have lain among the primitive writers, and in 
 the study of the early antiquities of the Church ; and my principle, 
 perhaps originating from that circumstance, is this, to endeavour to 
 render the Church as conformable as possible with the primitive 
 model. Hence, I differ from such divines as Paley ; he would make 
 such alterations in the Church as would render it more comprehen- 
 sive, taking, if I may so say, a political view of it ; and this seems 
 to be the object with most of the Church reformers of the day. For 
 this purpose he would do away with many primitive customs, ta 
 which those who think with me are attached. Thus he looks to what 
 must be impossible, owing to the lax state of discipline, a union 
 with Protestant Dissenters. Now we look not to this, but by (if 
 any alteration is necessary) even a return to some of the usages dis- 
 carded at our Refonnation, to conform more and more to the primi- 
 tive model ; that thus, when the Roman Catholic Churches 
 abroad gradually attempt to reform themselves, or what is yet 
 more likely, when the Church of Greece, to which I mainly look, 
 begins to reform, they may see that this can be done without run- 
 ning into that discord and confusion which is certainly the disgrace 
 of Protestantism, and which as certainly makes it stink in their 
 nostrils. The Greeks abominate the Pope ; but our disunion they 
 abominate equally. They dread Reformation on this account ;
 
 -i837 Letters, 1829-1836. 145 
 
 ours is the only Church which shows that the Church can be 
 reformed^ not as in the case of most other Protestants — I ought to 
 except those of Denmark and Sweden — that to correct abuses it 
 must be first overturned and then rebuilt de novo ; and we prevent 
 them from feeling an inclination to reform, by so many of our 
 countrymen in those parts making common cause with all Protes- 
 tants. Let us leave events, say I, to Providence ; let us bring our- 
 selves as near to perfection as we can ; nor would I ever for one 
 moment admit it as a ground for any concession, that the safety of 
 the Establishment is concerned. Concede, in God's name on all 
 points where concession is innocent, but never from the worldly 
 consideration of sustaining the worldly pre-eminence of the 
 Church. With respect to the circulation of the Scriptures in 
 Greece, . . . you can have no conception of the mischief done 
 there and elsewhere by the circulation of Bibles by the Bible 
 Society, translated imperfectly and, I may say dishonestly, or at 
 least unfairly, by Socinians. 
 
 The traveller Macfarlane, whose work on Constantinople you 
 have probably read, asserts that the Bible circulated among the 
 Greeks is written in such strange Romaic that tliey cannot read it. 
 
 Visit to the Bis/top of London. 
 
 10 Dean's Yard, Westminster: October 1830. 
 Wife ! — Learn to treat your husband with the respect which is 
 due to a man of his consequence. When the Lord Bishop of 
 London invited the Rev. Vicar of Holy Trinity, Coventry, to dine 
 with his lordship, at his lordship's palace at Fulham, who do you 
 think was the only person (with the e>xeption of the chaplain) 
 that the said Lord Bishop thought worthy to be invited to meet 
 the said Rev. Vicar, your honoured lord and master ? hear and be 
 confounded — His Grace the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, 
 Primate of all England and Metropolitan !!!!!! Your poor weak 
 little bit of a mind would indeed have been astonished and as- 
 ?6unded to hear how these three pillars of the Church (for I con- 
 sider the chaplain as a nonentity) discuss affairs ecclesiastical ; yet, 
 without a joke, it was an awful solemnity. The poor Vicar was 
 quite dumbfounded till he had refreshed his nerves by a glass of 
 the Bishop's best wine. Things were going on smoothly after 
 this, when, lo and behold ! in a meek and gentle voice the Lord 
 Archbishop challenged the poor priest to take a glass of wine, and 
 
 L
 
 146 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1829- 
 
 the said priest was again overpowered : he spilt the wine, first on 
 the table-cloth, then on his coat, and forgot to bow to his grace. 
 Luckily 'Piety without Asceticism" was named, and the very 
 thought of his dear, kind, apostolical patron, the Bishop of Lime- 
 rick, inspired the poor priest once more with courage. We all 
 chanted the praises of the work ; and then the poor priest was 
 listened to with interest, as he could give the latest account of 
 Ireland's best Prelate. Indeed, he could not help thinking that his 
 grace the metropolitan seemed to treat him with more respect, when 
 he remembered, probably, that he, the said priest, was immortalised 
 by being mentioned in ' Practical Theology,' as Bishop Jebb's friend. 
 At ten o'clock the three assembled pillars, accompanied by Mrs. 
 Blomfield, went to the chapel, where upwards of fifty servants 
 were assembled ; this was indeed a sublime and touching sight. 
 A delightful chapel, the prayers read by a Bishop, and the Vicar 
 kneeling at the side of an Archbishop. Well, here ends the his- 
 tory : how I have lived to write it I know not ; but I can say no 
 more, for by eleven o'clock I must attend the meeting of Convoca- 
 tion at St. Paul's, thence I shall have to hurry to the levee. 
 
 To liis Wife — First Seiinoii at the Chapel Royal. 
 
 16 St. James's Street, London : November 1830. 
 
 My dearest Love, . . . I had the honour yesterday of preaching 
 before their Majesties. Bob says I delivered the sermon well ; but 
 I do not think the sermon itself was a good one. I trust, however, 
 that I may have touched the hearts and roused the feelings of 
 some of my congregation ; for I warned them in pretty strong 
 terms of the danger, as well as the sin, of denying God and de- 
 serting the cause of religion. The Bishop of Chichester '^ came 
 into the vestry after service, and introduced himself as an old 
 friend and schoolfellow of my father's ; he said he could not mis- 
 take me from my likeness. His lordship told me that in the 
 bidding prayer I ought not to name the Bishop of the Diocese 
 when preaching in a royal chapel, since such chapels are con- 
 sidered as peculiars. ' And,' said he, ' I may without fear of 
 offence point out one fault, when there is so much to admire, both 
 in matter and manner.' I made one great, uncavalierlike mis- 
 take. The etiquette is, to walk down from the pulpit backwards, 
 
 ' Title of a work by Bishop Jebb. 2 -q^ carr.
 
 -i837 Letters, 1829-1836. 147 
 
 and I was told of it twenty times at least ; but when the sermon 
 was ended I forgot it all, and in my eagerness to escape, down I 
 ran with my back to his Majesty. I have heard of various eulogies 
 (the abuse, of course, not being reported to me) from persons who 
 are so ignorant of ecclesiastical affairs as not to know so wonderful 
 a person as myself, for one person to Gilbert Mathison called me 
 Mr. Wood ; another to Mr. Tupper, Mr. Cook. But I see the 
 Court circular, in the newspapers, sets the matter right. Upon 
 the whole, I am not pleased with myself; I have seldom been 
 more discontented with any of my performances of any kind. 
 
 F?-om W. P. Wood, Esq. — Sympathy between Rich and Poor. 
 
 Lincoln's Inn : May 21, 1831. 
 
 ... I do not intend to trouble you with politics, but I am sure 
 that a gi-eat proportion of the troubles which disturb old-estab- 
 lished governments arise from the want of sympathy between 
 the rich and poor. I mean that real sympathy which consults the 
 feelings, and the mental as well as bodily wants of the sufferer ; 
 that truly Christian spirit of benevolence which prompts the more 
 favoured individual to lower himself as far as possible to the 
 level of the poorer classes in his intercourse with them ; to con- 
 vince them that he regards himself standing before God as humbled 
 a creature as the meanest of his brethren, and that he feels his 
 worldly wealth only entrusted to him as a means of effecting the 
 most extensive good ; whilst, after all the good which he can effect, 
 he is but an unprofitable servant. It is not enough to say that in 
 England more is done for the poor than in any other country by 
 gifts : the question is how is the wealth given ? and if it should 
 •ever be shown that more of actual intercourse with the poor exists 
 among the gentry of this countiy than of any other nation, yet is it 
 after all but comparative ; and I fear we are very, very far below 
 what might be expected, after eighteen centuries of instruction in 
 real wisdom have been vouchsafed the world. In one respect we 
 are decidedly behind our continental neighbours, and that is in the 
 ineffable distance between master and servant. It is impossible 
 you can work upon the minds of those who regard you with no 
 affection ; and I would ask if anyone can point to more than half 
 a-dozen instances of attached domestics within his own knowledge 
 I would follow up my inquiry by asking him the reason. I do not 
 think that foreigners, in general, sufficiently avail themselves of 
 
 L 2
 
 148 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 1829- 
 
 the advantages they have over us in this respect, by influencing 
 the minds of their dependants ; but I can safely say that we can 
 never hope to effect much I^cnefit in our famihes while this barrier 
 exists. . . . 
 
 I fully agree with you in the excellent view you take of the 
 gradation of duty. An instance of perverted feeling on this subject 
 was shown the other day in this great mart of all extravagance. 
 Crowds had attended meetings held in the new hall in the Strand, 
 for converting the Continent by ' Sabbath Societies,' and various 
 other contrivances ; but at a meeting for the promotion of ' district 
 visiting,' the only really efficacious means of bettering the temporal 
 and spiritual condition of the poor, but a few stragglers could be 
 collected. Those who are thus usefully employed were perhaps 
 better engaged than in contributing to the parade of a public 
 meeting, but where were the customary haunters of these exhibi- 
 tions ? preaching in imagination to the Chinese, or weeping tears 
 of joy over a letter from Otaheite. 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq.—Pa7-oc]iial Work — Opposition from 
 Dissenters. 
 
 January 31, 1831. 
 
 . . . This letter only comes a month after the time ; it ought to 
 have been received on the first of January. I hope it will be re- 
 ceived on the first of February, and though it would not be accord- 
 ing to etiquette to express what I heartily wish, that you may pass 
 a happy twelvemonth, yet, here are from me and mine, to you and 
 yours, most hearty wishes for a happy elevenmonth. Christmas time 
 is among the parsons, as you well know, no holiday time ; much 
 extra duty always awaits us ; and the delightful task of dispensing 
 charities, feeding the national school children, &c., &c., consumes 
 time most voraciously. In addition to this, ours has, till within 
 the last ten days, been the city of the plague : small pox, measles, 
 scarlet and typhus fever have been raging around us ; and God 
 Almighty be thanked that we, of this household, have hitherto 
 escaped. I have likewise had the very disagreeable duty of having- 
 to beg, from house to house, to get support for our intended 
 infant schools. I am beginning to be a little vain, for I cannot but 
 suppose, as all my friends assert, that the bitterness, I may say 
 the fierceness, with which I am assailed by some of the Dissenters 
 here, must arise from having emptied their shops by establishing
 
 -i837 Letters, 1829- 1836. 149 
 
 an evening service, and stirring up the Churchmen who were befoi'e 
 permitted to go to sleep. Every kind of abuse, the most personal, 
 has been heaped upon me, on account of this infant school. I was 
 told that it was expected that the Church should come forward, 
 and that the Dissenters would contribute. Together, therefore, 
 with all the beneficed clergy of the city, we call a meeting, only 
 insisting that the children should be taught the Creed, Loi-d's 
 Prayer, and Ten Commandments, and that the master should be a 
 member of the Church. It was necessary to do this before calling 
 a meeting, because we knew that, while Churchmen would supply 
 the money, the Dissenters would be able to outnumber us by 
 resorting to measures for packing the meeting, to which we would 
 not condescend. We thought it right, therefore, to state what we 
 should consider a sine qua non. At the meeting, if the Dissenters 
 could not conscientiously support our plan, I intended to propose 
 that we should raise a subscription together, and establish two 
 schools ; one to be superintended by the clergy, the other by the 
 Dissenters, with an understanding that neither party would receive 
 the children dismissed for ill-conduct from the other establishment. 
 But a violent Dissenting teacher, abetted by as violent an Evan- 
 gelical clergyman, chaplain to the Bridewell, called an oppositiorn 
 meeting, branded us with the title of intolerant bigots, and deter- 
 mined to crush us. We have let them have their way ; wl-ien re- 
 viled, we have carefully abstained from reviling again; and the 
 consequence has been that we have raised nearly 300/., and their 
 subscriptions are, I suspect, so inconsiderable that they have 
 hitherto refrained from publishing them. 
 
 To the same — Foundation of a Dispensary. 
 
 Coventry: March 14, 1831, 
 
 My dearest Friend, — I lose no time in thanking you and your 
 wife for your kind letter of congratulation, if it be a subject of con- 
 gratulation, that I have entered my thirty-fourth year and am no 
 better than I am. I am at present a bachelor, my spouse ha\ing 
 run away from me, with the heiress of all the Hooks, to pay a \ isit 
 to her father and mother. I am too busy to go, and I am at pre- 
 sent almost too nervous to write, for I am to make my first — no, 
 my second (after a long interval) — appearance as an extempore 
 speaker to-morrow. The thought of it, strange as it may appear, 
 in one who preaches so ol'tcn, makes me ache all over. The meeting
 
 150 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 is called for the purpose of establishing; a self-supporting dispen- 
 sary', and I am to move the first resolution. We shall be opposed 
 by a host of medical men ; but a dispensary of some sort or other 
 shall be established ; they may bully, but we arc determined not 
 to }ield. You tell me you shall write to me on politics ; remember,^ 
 Sir Radical, that I am a Tory ; so moderate your tone of triumph, 
 if it be from mere compassion. But, in truth, I am too much 
 occupied in parochial details to be able to busy myself in politics ; 
 and the state of politics is such at present as so to sadden my poor 
 Tory heart that I avoid the subject as much as possible, seeing 
 that I could do no good. I seldom indeed advert to them, except 
 when I ofter the prayer for Parliament, which is offered from the 
 heart. 
 
 To the same — Lecfures on the Last Days of our Lord's Ministry — 
 Chatige of House — Foundation of a Dispensary — Calumnies. 
 
 Leicester Road, Coventry : April 13, 1831. 
 ... I delivered my lectures every day in Passion Week to a 
 very attentive and devout congregation. Indeed, I have reason to 
 hope that they were of service, not only to myself, but to many who 
 heard them. On one person in particular I know that they have 
 made a serious impression, and a Socinian lady who was with me 
 all the week presented herself at the altar on Easter-day. I have 
 indeed been veiy successful in my ministry of late, for two of the 
 leading surgeons in my parish have not only become regular atten- 
 dants at church, but have received the Sacrament. . . . All this 
 has been highly satisfactorj^, and I am in good humour with my 
 parish. It was nevertheless hard work, for I had only written one 
 of my lectures when I commenced, and had in consequence to sit 
 up late and rise early ; besides which, I started one evening to see 
 my little wee bit of a wife (she is only about an inch taller than 
 yours), and having found her as well as could be, I returned in the 
 morning. Then I have been very busy in moving from St. 
 Nicholas Place to this house. I have been labouring night and 
 day to get it ready for Delicia, so that she may have no trouble 
 or fatigue when she returns, which I hope will be on Friday. I 
 have seldom felt so anxious for any day since I left Winchester ; 
 my feelings are just those with which we used to look forward to 
 the holidays : I have been so busy about all this, that I have not 
 seen her for a week. I must tell you that this house, though in tlie
 
 -i837 Letters, 1 829-1 836. 151 
 
 parish, is in the country ; quite rural, with a tjarden and all. I have 
 been studying the art of gardening too ; I can give you the history 
 of gardening, from that of Paradise to that described in the 
 Canticles ; and from that of Alcinous to that of Academus, and so 
 on to Sir William Temple and Kent, down to our own times, not 
 forgetting the hanging gardens of Babylon. This morning I have 
 been sowing peas ; but there has arisen a very disagreeable sect 
 of Dissenters in my little plantation ; they are known by the name 
 of slugs, and have opened a conventicle in the veiy heart of my 
 cabbage-bed. I am a bigoted, intolerant wretch, as you know, and 
 mean to burn them, not with fire and fagot, but with lime. I must 
 narrate another grievance. In endeavouring to establish a self- 
 supporting dispensary I have incurred the wrath of all the doctors 
 in this place ; I know not whether I mentioned this before, but so 
 it is, and thus I am placed between two fires. In the Coventry 
 papers the doctors are attacking me as a hypocrite, &:c. &c., and 
 all the time a Dissenting teacher is publishing every week an 
 ecclesiastical lecture, in which he holds me up to censure for various 
 iniquities ; one, in particular, is rather amusing : he accuses me of 
 avarice, and calls me ' the holy minister of Holy Trinity.' Now 
 avarice is certainly not one of my faults ; and if he inquired further 
 he would find that while by my rate here, at the lowest valuation, I 
 ought to receive 498/. a year, I only in fact receive 250/. ; and when 
 some of my parishioners found fault with my collector (for the busi- 
 ness is not managed by me), he told them that the blame did not 
 rest with him, but if anyone goes to the Vicar he not only excuses 
 them but gives them something for the trouble of calling. How- 
 ever, so it is with my Dissenting friends ; many of my real faults 
 are passed over, and things are brought against me of which my 
 conscience does not accuse me. 
 
 To the same — Abstiticnce fioiii Politics. 
 
 May 16, 1831. 
 My poor dear Friend, ... At Worcester you carried all before 
 you, but I voted of course for Lygon. In Coventry I never meddle 
 with politics. My principle is this : to do those duties, or rather 
 attempt to do them, which Providence points out to us, by the cir- 
 cumstances under which we are placed, always remembering that the 
 nearest and easiest duties arc to us the first in importance. Thus, 
 I consider my first duty is t(j my family including my servants ; my
 
 1 5 - Life of Walter Farqnhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 next to the parish, over which the Holy Ghost has made me over- 
 seer ; then to my diocese, my country, and so on to all mankind. 
 It is that which our hand findeth to do that we are to do with all 
 our might. And the mischief of the present age is that every one 
 is striving to do some great thing ; while those minor points, 
 which are first to the indi\idual, arc neglected. Men are devising 
 schemes to convert heathens, while their own families, and perhaps 
 themselves, are quite as much in need of conversion ; they are 
 anxious to waft the Scriptures from the Ganges to the Mississippi, 
 but forget to make the Bible their own companion and familiar friend. 
 It would be well for England if, instead of clamouring for reform, 
 men would do (as Rickman, the Quaker architect, observed to me 
 the other day) their own business, and reform themselves. It was 
 on these principles that I voted at Worcester, having a vote for the 
 county. I thought myself in these times called upon to exercise 
 my privilege and, consequently, I voted like an obstinate old Tory 
 (as Lord Lyttleton, who brought in his brother-in-law, called me). 
 1 take a gloomy view of things. It is at the same time a comfort 
 for me to feel that you, who are so much wiser than I am, and are 
 not a party man, at least, not violently so, think otherwise. I con- 
 sider you as a thoroughly honest politician. The men I dislike are 
 those who support the Ileforni Bill sim])Iy because it was introduced 
 by their friends. 
 
 To Hon. and Rev. A. Perceval — Advantages of an EstablisJwient. 
 
 Cuventry : May 25, 1831. 
 
 I am now become a waiter upon Providence. For some in- 
 scrutable purpose the country appears to me to have been de- 
 mented ; the afflicting hand of Providence is upon us, and we must 
 diligently labour to ascertain precisely what our duty is, both in 
 bearing and forbearing, and then seek for grace to perform it. 
 
 As Churchmen, we have the blessed conviction that the Church 
 will flourish more under oppression than at any other time. St. 
 Hilary says 'Hoc habet proprium ecclesia, dum persecutionem 
 patitur floret, dum opprimitur proficit, dum teditur vincit, dum 
 arguitur intelligit, tunc stat, quum supcrari videtur.' 
 
 But as patriots and as Englishmen who but must weep ? let the 
 Church be unestablished and infidelity will be rampant. I am one 
 of those who think a little religion better than none at all. And I 
 regard the establishment of the Church to be one of the means ap-
 
 -i837 Letters, 1829-1S36. I 
 
 DO 
 
 pointed to lead men gradually to a serious sense of the faith. A 
 man may love the Church at first merely because it is an institution 
 ■of his countiy. With an honest mind, like the apostles when first 
 called to be disciples, their principles may be too secular. Too 
 many do not advance at all, but many more come by degrees to 
 see how the Church is the mystical body of their Saviour, and 
 glor)'ing in their privilege, they not only abide in Christ but Christ 
 abides in them. From fruitless they are pruned into fruitful 
 branches of the Vine. That God will devise other means for bring- 
 ing those who are of honest and good hearts to the truth, no one will 
 deny, but no Christian can contemplate without sorrow the withdraw- 
 ment of one of the visible means hitherto ordained for that 
 purpose, even though the Church itself be purified, while depressed, 
 thereby. As a Church, the Reformed Catholic Church in England 
 will be benefited by its disunion from the State ; but, as the Bishop 
 of Limerick observes, the question is not whether the Church be 
 less pure, but the countiy be not more pure. And one of the 
 offices of the Church is to be the salt of the earth, and indirectly to 
 purify even worldlings. I refer our calamities to the Repeal of 
 the Test Act; for then the State vir-tiially renounced every con- 
 nexion with religion. It pronounced religion to be, so far as the 
 State is concerned, a thing indifferent. 
 
 England is now in the position of a man who has excommuni- 
 cated himself To the special pi-otection of Providence and ot 
 grace it has no longer a covenant claim. Our legislation is, in 
 fact, of a)2y religion, which is the same as saying of no religion. 
 
 Convalescence. 
 
 Birm'Rgham : June 14, 1831. 
 
 My dearest Mother, — Although I am mending fast, the doctoi 
 ■e -iti rely disappi'oves of my leaving the Monument at present, and 
 my system is, strictly to follow the advice of the doctor under whose 
 care Providence, by the arrangement of circumstances, has placed 
 me ; then, as our good Lord of Limerick says, if I die, it is his fault 
 and not mine. That I am better will appear from this, that I am 
 growing liourly more impatient to return to dear Coventry ; happy I 
 never can be out of my parish, and I long to offer my prayers once 
 again in my noble church. There is no church in England that 
 suits me so well. * Say not this is lame devotion that cannot 
 Juount without the help of such a wooden slick ; ratlicr 'lis lame
 
 154 Life of Walter FaTqiihar Hook. 1829- 
 
 indeed which is not raised though having the advantage thereof.' 
 This sentence is from Fuller, whose 'Holy State' I am reading,, 
 much to my edification and delight. I am going out a-fishing to- 
 day ! ! but truth to tell, I should be more in my element if I were 
 at Coventry tr)'ing to catch men ; the fact is, that I am so iden- 
 tified with my parish that if too much duty knocks me up, a little 
 duty is essential to amuse me. Without parochial duty I feel 
 much as a dram-drinker must do when robbed of his morning 
 draught. 
 
 To 11: P. Wood, Esq. 
 
 Coventr)' : December i, 1831. 
 
 My dearest Friend, . . . Now for your letter ; — thank you. 
 much for the delightful pouring out of your feelings ; and believe me, 
 that when I read the sentiments of humble piety which you therein 
 express, I am more proud of the friendship which has c\-er been, 
 my honour as well as my delight. Thank God it is not on our own 
 works that we depend for hope as to everlasting bliss. Christ is- 
 our all in all, and to Him we can only approach by faith. Now it 
 is on this doctrine of justification by faith alone that I delight to 
 dwell when I am inclined to despond ; I then throw myself without 
 reserve at the feet of Christ. ... As to prayer, I suppose every 
 person has some different method of elevating his soul to com- 
 munion with the Deity. For my part, I find I can pray best when. 
 I am walking in my garden ; indeed, I am generally a peripatetic 
 in my devotions, and I find the open air my most delightful 
 temple. Again, I know nothing more conducive to bring me to a 
 devotional disposition than to read some portion of the Bible, till 
 I gradually sink off into a holy reverie. I throw out these hints, 
 because when first I became seriously impressed with religious 
 feelings, I had some of those difficulties of which you seem to 
 complain. And even in those days when we cannot take the usual 
 delight in prayer and praise, we ought to remember that our 
 Saviour knows our hindrances, and that by Him the will will be 
 taken for the deed ; when we have struggled much without success,, 
 faith will, in this sense, be counted to us for righteousness.
 
 -i837 Letters, 1 829-1 836. 155 
 
 From W. P. Wood, Esq. — Uses of a Belief in Angels — Irznngis?n. 
 
 Lincoln's Inn : March 1832. 
 
 ... I thank you for your beautiful hint as to the Angels.^ It 
 is curious that I have two or three times said to my wife that I 
 thought we were too much in the habit of neglecting the clear 
 doctrine, as laid down in the Bible, of spiritual agents subordinate 
 to the Deity, and of their interference with the events of this 
 world. There is certainly a degree of danger in dwelling too much 
 on such a subject if the mind be predisposed to enthusiasm ; but 
 at the same time I think that the great caution of many preachers 
 has led to a carelessness even as regards the restless machinations 
 of our great spiritual adversary. You will recollect that you told 
 me an anecdote of a Unitarian saying ' nobody could believe in 
 the devil.' Still more may hav^e been deprived of great spiritual 
 consolation from the neglect of those many beautiful passages in 
 Scripture which represent the watchfulness of the angels over those 
 who serve God, and their great interest in all that concerns our 
 welfare. People are very apt to imagine that their deceased 
 friends take an interest in their conduct, for which we have no 
 direct Scriptural authority (the parable of Lazarus being, perhaps, 
 only a parable), and which may prove a dangerous conceit as 
 tending to saint worship. Now the clear knowledge afforded us of 
 the ministry of Angels ought to be no less consolatory. 
 
 My mind has been brought to dwell upon many of the deeper 
 points of the ' mystery of Godliness ' owing to a visit from two 
 young friends, who have been, to a certain extent, led away by the 
 enthusiasts of Irving's school. With regard to the alleged miracles, 
 I think it is at once an answer to say that no miracle has yet been 
 even stated ; for the uttering of sounds which no one professes to 
 comprehend is so far from miraculous that any of us could do the 
 same thing for hours together ; and I think I satisfied our friends 
 of the wonderful difference between such quackery and the stupen- 
 dous miracle of the day of Pentecost. But the greatest difficulty I 
 met with was on the subject of election. My own views on this 
 subject do not quite coincide with Whately's. I think a little more 
 is meant than the simple fact of election to privileges which may 
 be accepted or waived, and I confess I rather lean to the doctrine 
 
 ' That the knowledge of their sympathy should be an au.xiliary to our 
 devotions.
 
 156 Life of Waller Farqttkar Hook. 18:9- 
 
 of those who think that God, foicscciiv; who will accept the con- 
 ditions of salvation, and having promised that all who do so accept 
 them shall be saved, may be said in that sense to have elected the 
 saved. But then 1 am quite certain from Scripture that although 
 God knows this, no vian can know it, no man can see the end of 
 his career, which God does see, and therefore no man can be 
 assured that he will continue in a state of grace. A man may 
 perhaps feel an assurance that through Christ's mercy, if he were 
 to die that moment, he would be saved, but he can say nothing 
 more. 
 
 7'o W. P. Wood, Esq. — Chrisiicui Sympaihy. 
 
 Leamington : March i, 1832. 
 
 ... I intended to answer your last most interesting letter 
 fully, but I have forgotten to bring it with me. But 1 remember 
 well one topic to which you refer, which is, the want of Christian 
 sympathy which you seem to experience when worshipping in 
 church. This is a subject on which I have had very many conver- 
 sations with my reverend brethren in this neighbourhood ; for 
 fifteen or twenty of us frequently meet, not to discuss, but to con- 
 verse ; being happily of pretty nearly the same principles in reli- 
 gion, though there are slight shades of difference in our politics. 
 Nothing fills the Dissenting chapels so much as their being able 
 to remedy the defect of which you complain. When a man has 
 seriously turned his thoughts to religion, he comes to church and 
 finds no one sympathising with him, no one, under circumstances 
 somewhat similar, ready to communicate his thoughts. He goes 
 to a meeting house, he is immediately hailed as a convert ; he is 
 flattered, calmed, and soothed. Now we have considered whether 
 some such steps as these might not be profitably adopted in the 
 Church ; it would immediately increase its popularity with some 
 religionists ; for man is an aristocratic animal, and sectarianism 
 flatters the aristocratical feeling. Eveiyone in religion, as in 
 everj'thing else, likes to be a peg above his neighbour, and to be 
 one of a party superior in purity or in wisdom to those around him. 
 If, then, we were to consider merely the religionists, if merely the 
 popularity of the Church, it might be well to adopt some such 
 classification as prevails with the Methodists. But the Church of 
 Christ, I conceive, is not intended to be confined as to its benefits 
 and advantages to those who are true Christians : here is the mis- 
 take with the sectarians. There is a jet more extensive object,
 
 -i837 Letters, 1 829-1 836. 157 
 
 though less flattering to human pride ; it is to act as leaven and as 
 salt by which the mass of society may be gradually purified ; it is 
 indirectly to benefit those who are without as well as those that 
 are within the pale ; to improve men's morals, when it cannot 
 prevail upon them to become Christians in very deed. Thus it 
 has been shown by Bishop Jebb that, in the commission of the 
 Apostles, our Lord commanded them first to convert individuals, 
 and then to convert nations ; to have to do with whole masses of 
 society. While the Church was composed merely of individuals, 
 as was the case till the time of Constantino, it was in its purest 
 state ; when it was allied with the world, its discipline was relaxed, 
 and consequently it became less pure. But the question is, not 
 whether the Church be less pure, but whether the world by this 
 contact be not more pure ; and of this no one, I presume, can 
 doubt. We ought, therefore, always to recollect this secondary 
 but very important character of the Church, this leavening and 
 salting purpose for which it is intended, and not to administer it so 
 as to seek the gratification of those only who are really pious in 
 their feelings. The advantage of this indirect influence on society 
 is great. Suppose I prevail upon a man no further than to respect 
 the common decencies of life ; as to his fate we dare not decide, 
 God alone can judge ; but this I see, that his children being 
 brought up morally and orderly are prepared to embrace the 
 whole faith, as it is in Jesus. Pray read Bishop Jebb's beautiful 
 perfect sermon on transmissive religion in ' Practical Theology ' ; 
 if you have not the book, say so, and I will send you a copy. 
 
 To his IVifc — Accoiait of Visit to Lincoln to be Installed as 
 Prebendary of Caistor} 
 
 Lincoln : Trinity Sunday, June 1832. 
 
 My dearest Love, — I wrote to you chiefly to state my intentions 
 with respect to my movements. I hope to leave this early on 
 Tuesday morning, and to reach London the same day ; but you 
 must not be alarmed if I do not make my appearance till Wednes- 
 day. My journey here was prosperous ; I got on to Loughborough 
 from Leicester, in a return chaise, for two shillings. With the 
 collegiate church of Southwell I fell desperately in love ; it is really 
 beautiful, with fine old Norman arches. I attended service there, 
 
 * The stall had been given him by the Bishop, who \\ as a friend of his father
 
 158 Life of Walter Fai'guhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 and fciund the choir well managed. The town itself is pretty, and 
 I should not object to ha\e a stall there, with a living attached. 
 From Southwell to Lincoln the journey is easy ; but I was obliged 
 after all to post one stage. Arrived at Lincoln, I found the inn in 
 much confusion, for there was a visitation dinner. ' Whose visi- 
 tation is it ? ' I asked ; ' The Archdeacon of Stow's,' was the 
 answer ; and sure enough I saw his reverence, at no great distance, 
 giving a jobation to a churchwarden. ' Give the Archdeacon this 
 card,' said the Prebendary elect ; on receiving which, forth comes 
 my kind friend Archdeacon Bayley, pulls me into the room, and 
 says, ' Gentlemen, allow me to introduce our new Prebendary ; 
 you have all heard of Mr. Hook;' and then a long eulogy^ was 
 pronounced. ' For his own sake, therefore,' said the Archdeacon, 
 * and his admirable father's sake, let us drink his good health in a 
 bumper.' The Dean was present, and invited me to dine with him 
 to-day. 
 
 In the autumn of 1832 his mother and sister spent some 
 time in the Lake Country near Rydal. They became intimate 
 with the Wordsworth family, and paid almost daily visits to the 
 poet's house. One day, during the severe illness of his sister, 
 Miss Wordsworth, they found the poet sitting by her side, where 
 he had been for hours rubbing her feet. Miss Hook wrote a 
 letter to her brother full of enthusiastic admiration for this trait 
 of fraternal affection on the part of Wordsworth ; to which he 
 replied in the following strain : 
 
 I wish you could read Ouinctilian or Longinus, and then, as in 
 times past, I should set you a portion to learn by heart, and initiate 
 you into the arts of composition. Most horrible was the bathos 
 into which your last letter plunged. Having descanted not only 
 on the genius but the virtues of the poet, having entered into ' your 
 little boat, in shape a veiy crescent moon,' and carried me into 
 the third heaven, you then introduce me to the venerable bard — 
 surrounded by the Muses — doing what? striking the silver lyre? 
 no ! rubbing his dear old sister's cold toes. O fie ! Miss Hook ! 
 fie ! as a punishment I shall put down my pen, and conclude this 
 letter just when I please. I should not, indeed, write to you at all, 
 but that I should like to earn another such letter, excepting that 
 part which descants on brotherly aftection towards cold feet in a 
 sister. I hope that you will always be able to keep your feet warm
 
 -i837 Letters, 182 9- 183 6. 159 
 
 -with exercise, and your heart still warmer by enthusiasm, kept of 
 course under the fraternal control of good sense. . . . 
 
 The Lakes — Wordsworth. 
 
 Coventry : September 8, 1832. 
 
 My dearest Mother, ... How I do envy you your delightful 
 "visit to the Lakes ; no, envy is not the right word, for I should 
 like to enjoy it with you. I think as one grows older, and becomes 
 more christianised (almost all other terms have been so wrongly 
 applied, that it is scarcely lawful to use them), as the natural man 
 goes down hill, and the moral man learns to take higher and higher 
 flights towards those heavenly regions where he humbly hopes to 
 live for ever with his Saviour and those who were worthy of his 
 love on earth ; so do we feel more deeply, more intensely, the 
 beauties of inanimate nature — that nature to which your honoured 
 friend Wordsworth has, more than any other poet, given a voice ; 
 a voice which speaks to the very heart of hearts. In early youth 
 there is an enchantment in the scenes of nature which makes 
 •every lad, worth anything, think and hope that he is born to take 
 station among the poets of his country. How beautifully are these 
 feelings described in the ' Excursion.' But the boy tries his hand 
 at expressing his thoughts, and finds in despair that language fails 
 him : he cannot say all he feels, and rushes out from the Temple 
 of the Muses in despair. Encouragement no one can give, for he 
 who feels strongly will most likely feel awfully sensitive in per- 
 mitting his feelings to be known ; they can only be fully opened to 
 a person of the same age, a wife, or such a friend as Wood. Then 
 other pursuits engage the attention, the feelings are chilled by a 
 cold world ; worldliness of mind ensues, ambition urges on to exer- 
 tion, and the soul is more and more alienated from heavenly as- 
 pirations. After this comes disappointment and misfortune ; those 
 blessings in disguise, when religion becomes once more a reality, 
 when the soul becomes clc\ated, the affections spiritualised, and 
 the mind no longer earthy ; and it is then that nature in her grand 
 and in her calmer scenes once more speaks to the heart. Having 
 diligently marked not only the progress of my own mind, but that 
 of many of my contemporaries, and having also had minds opened 
 to me by persons who have wished for spiritual consolation in my 
 parish, I am so convinced that this is the usual process with such 
 as become rightly religious, that the tone of my sermons is always
 
 i6o Life of Walter FarqiLliar Hook. 1S29- 
 
 in accordance with these notions. I don't Hke violent philippics 
 against vice, or those feelings which will have their way, I like to 
 paint the loveliness of religion, to call back the mind to those calm 
 joys it experienced, before worldlincss, or inordinate ambition, or 
 the passions, assumed their tyranny ; and then to show how by 
 degrees God's grace will not only restore those amiable sentiments 
 of childhood, but give them a vigour and a holiness of which the 
 worldly can form no conception. Now, as I humbly hope that my 
 mind has become spiritualised, I feel that I am just in the con- 
 dition to profit by those delightful views which you and dear 
 Georgiana so well describe. I should indeed delight to wander 
 over your mountains, and pour out my thoughts, not in poems, but 
 in sermons. I am weary of towns, and especially of manufacturing 
 towns, and I sigh for the countr>^ 
 
 Delicia and I agree that of all places we have seen Flerting- 
 fordbury would suit us best, yes, even more than Whippingham ; 
 she likes the retirement of Hertingfordbury, and I coniess that the 
 dark, shady walk by the river has fresh charms for me as I grow 
 older. I am, as the good dear Bishop would say, something selt- 
 complacent, at the praise you tell me has been bestowed on me by 
 Wordsworth ; Delicia and I have guessed the truth. It is so 
 utterly impossible that he should ever have heard of me, that we 
 conclude thus : One day Mrs. Hook was talking to the poet, and, 
 in the overflow of her maternal fondness, she told him that her 
 son was the finest preacher and best parson, &c., &c., in England. 
 Well, many days had elapsed, and the poet had meanwhile been 
 in the third heavens. When Mrs. Hook calls on him again, the 
 name of her son is mentioned : ' Oh,' says the poet, ' I have heard 
 that your son is a very fine preacher, and a very good divine.' 
 ' Who told you ? ' 'I quite forget,' replies the poet, ' but I am cer- 
 tain that I have heard it.' I am so convinced that this, or some- 
 thing like it, is the fact, that I am not vain, as I otherwise might 
 be, at the eulogy. But I am indeed complacent at the idea of my 
 being known, even by name, to the living poet of England. I 
 have in my time so worshipped poets, that the very thought of 
 being known to such a poet as Wordsworth stirs up the enthusiasm 
 which the noise and smoke and bustle of a large town has well 
 nigh quenched. By-the-bye, I do not at all approve of Mr. Macau- 
 lay's criticism ; I hate to hear people call Wordsworth ' the 
 modern Milton,' as they so frequently do : it gives one the idea of 
 his being one of the servile herd of imitators. Now, of all poets
 
 -1837 Letters, 182 9- 183 6. 161 
 
 that ever existed, saving only Homer, and my old friend, Shak- 
 speare, Wordsworth is the most original. He has shaped out a 
 line peculiarly and entirely his own ; and one of the reasons that 
 for a long time he was not popular with the mob of readers, was 
 this very circumstance — he was so different from the namby- 
 pamby poetasters they had been accustomed to admire, that they 
 could not relish him ; or else, because he was so different from 
 other poets, they knew not by what rules to tiy him. But Words- 
 worth was a true poet, and those many hearts he touched by his 
 poetry soon learned that he was to give laws, or rather to provide 
 materials from which future Aristotles might frame laws, and not 
 to receive them from pedants. 
 
 Publication of Lectures on ' Last days of our Lo7'd} 
 
 Lichfield : November i, 1832, 
 
 My dearest Mother, . . . The work is to come out this week, 
 and therefore your country bookseller will have no difficulty in ob- 
 taining copies from his agent in London. I think you had better 
 send the copy to Mr. Southey, and all others, except to Mrs. 
 Grant, from yourself ; I will be your debtor for the last, and also 
 for one which I should like to present to Mr. Wordsworth if he will 
 accept it. Tell him that it comes from one who venerates his 
 character and who has derived not only intellectual pleasure, but 
 moral improvement from his immortal writings. I am afraid, how- 
 ever, that neither he nor Southey will approve of what was written, 
 not by a retired scholar, but by a clergyman, who has never known 
 what leisure is, since he entered into holy orders, and who is there- 
 fore guilty perhaps of unpardonable presumption in thrusting him- 
 self into the republic of letters. I certainly wish for the success of 
 the work, not because it deserves success, but because, if I am not 
 severely cut up, I may be able to do something better. I am glad to 
 hear you talking, or rather to read you writing, of settling at the 
 Lakes : we might easily arrange matters, so that we could spend 
 two or three months with you in the summer, and you two or three 
 months with us in the winter. I only wish that we had commenced 
 housekeeping less expensively than wc did, for though our expenses 
 are less than those of most persons in our station of life, yet they 
 leave us not the means of travelling, or indulging our wishes on 
 several other points. From various circumstances, our income, 
 which I once thought would be 800/. a year, andthus very plentiful 
 
 M
 
 1 62 Life of Waltei' Farqiihar Hook. 1829- 
 
 has fallen down to 500/., which is certainly more than many of our 
 betters possess, but is, nevertheless, only barely equal to the many 
 demands upon us. If I can but make 200/. by my book, it will be 
 glorious. Delicia could then have a piano of her own ; I would get 
 a Benedictine Chr>'sostom ; my church should be presented with 
 a painted window ; and you and Georgiana should have our com- 
 pany in your visit to the Lakes next year. 
 
 To jr. P. Wood, Esq. — Different Classes of Jl'n'/ers — Letter 
 from Wordsworth. 
 
 Xovember 27, 1832. 
 
 It seems that we, once the most prolific of letter-writers, are 
 now compelled to commence each epistle with an apology. But as 
 Thompson said when writing to his sister, we know one another 
 better than to interpret our silence into any decay of affection. It 
 seems to me that the intellectual world may be divided into two 
 parties ; first, there is a class consisting of those whose talents are 
 ever ready, whose armour is ever bright and polished. Such w-as 
 Shakspeare, such was our dear lost Sir Walter Scott, such are those, 
 differing infinitely in degree but not in genus, whose pen is at all times 
 prepared to write a letter, or to chatter and gabble in society on every 
 subject. The next class consists of those who have the pen of a 
 ready writer, but who can only use it when the fit of inspiration is upon 
 them. At the head of this tribe, according to his biographers, was 
 Milton ; and, though infinitely beneath their great masters, such are 
 they who can sometimes write with a vigour and energy and zeal 
 and enthusiasm for which at others they sigh in vain. In the 
 latter class I rank myself ; my vigour is at all times but weakness, 
 but yet comparatively it is vigour when contrasted with the listless- 
 ness and lassitude with which I am ocasionally oppressed for weeks 
 and months. Some months there are when I pen off a sermon at a 
 sitting, and can write a fresh one ever}' day in the week ; while 
 there are many weeks when my poor head conceives, but brings 
 forth nothing. So also is it with respect to letter-writing, I have 
 been long w^aiting till the spirit would move me to unburden my 
 mmd to you, but alas, my spirit is for the present quite immovable, 
 and I therefore compel myself to write merely on the principle, 
 that even in such friendships as ours a discontinuance of intercourse 
 fijr any great length of time is dangerous. ~Sly mother and sister 
 have also formed a bosom friendship with the great poet Words-
 
 -1 837 Letters, 1 829-1 836. 16 
 
 o 
 
 worth, who appears to be as heavenly-minded, as pure, and as 
 Christian in his daily intercourse with society as I think him to be 
 pre-eminent in his poetiy. At my mother's request I presented him 
 with a copy of my Lectures ; and so complacent am I at the auto- 
 graph letter in which he acknowledges the present, that, at the risk 
 of being accounted rather vain, I shall copy it. 
 
 ' Dear Sir, — I cannot but avail myself of the present opportunity 
 to thank you for the very valuable volume of lectures which I have 
 had the honour of receiving from you through the hands of your 
 excellent mother. Having been absent from home I have not had 
 opportunity yet to read more than the two first discourses, with the 
 matter and manner of which I have been exceedingly pleased. The 
 first and paramount importance of the subject cannot but recom- 
 mend to general notice, at least so I trust, a work executed with so 
 much sincere piety and fervour, and with learning and ability of so 
 high an order. Wishing you earnestly success in the labours of 
 your ministr}', and health and life to prolong them, 
 
 ' I remain, dear Sir, 
 
 ' Faithfully your obliged, 
 
 'Wm. Wordsworth.' 
 
 ' J^'dge not.' 
 
 March 22, 1833. 
 My dearest Brother, — I must beg to thank you for your great 
 kindness in writing to me, notwithstanding the many claims upon 
 your time. In all your excellent sentiments I most cordially agree. 
 Christianity, while it enjoins us to threaten with severity the 
 living, teaches us to hope for the best with respect to the dead. 
 ' Judge not,' says our Saviour. His words are not Judge not 
 harshly, but ' Judge not ' — judge not at all. And why ? Because, as 
 you very justly observe, you cannot tell what disadvantages, from 
 internal weakness or the force of external temptation, another 
 person has had ; you cannot tell what disadvantages were opposed 
 to his apparent advantages. You can tell to a certain extent 
 with respect to yourself what advantages have been afforded 
 you, and you know that for the neglect of them you will be pun- 
 ished : but the Searcher of hearts, and He only, can tell this with 
 respect to others. Be this, however, as it may, sure I am that the 
 wretched sinner who dares to judge another with respect to his eter- 
 nal state places himself on the same footing as the most determined 
 
 M 2
 
 164 Life of Walter Far quhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 profligate ; and certainly, unless he repents, excludes himself froni 
 any part in Christ. 
 
 To //'. /'. Wood, Esq. — Calvinism — Wesley. 
 
 April 13, 1833. 
 
 My dearest Friend, ... So much have I to say to you, that 
 I know not where to begin. In your first letter I perfectly agree 
 with you in your opinion touching those dogmas which are 
 usually called Calvinistic ; but which might perhaps with equal 
 propriety be called Augustinism, as Augustine was their first pro- 
 mulgator. I think that, even admitting them, they need not 
 perple.x a humble-minded Christian. But alas ! this is not always 
 the case ; a clergyman finds in his intercourse with his flock that 
 these opinions lead to the most fatal consequences. I do not 
 think much of what polemics say against them, with respect to 
 their encouraging men in sin. However theoretically this may be 
 a legitimate consequence from the doctrine, it is not practically 
 found to be the case, or, at least, not often. 
 
 The way they operate for evil is through the awful despair t» 
 which they depress some, and the awful presumption to which they 
 excite others. If all men were men of sense it would not much 
 signify ; we could easily satisfy them. But you can have no con- 
 ception of the difficulties we sometimes find in quieting unnecessary 
 alarms. I have heard it said that men of business lay it down as 
 a rule that when they deal with a man they always treat him as a 
 knave. Sure I am that a pastor must, if he wishes to do good, 
 treat men as fools. It is not till men arrive at my age that people 
 unburden their minds to their pastor ; but I have now had many 
 consciences, the consciences of educated persons, laid open to me, 
 and have had in some degree the advantages of a confessor ; and 
 I am inclined to think that the fools far surpass the knaves. Oh, 
 the difficulty of knocking a foolish idea out of some persons' heads ; 
 it is quite surprising. It is only surpassed by the difficulty of 
 knocking in a right idea. So that you must not always think that 
 a poor parson is fighting a shadow when he is combating a doc- 
 trine, which to you may appear to be a matter of indifiference ; for 
 it is not for the wise alone that we write and preach and think. 
 Still, I regard these points merely in the light of preventing- 
 persons from enjoying those comforts of religion which they would 
 otherwise have. So long as a person is brought to Christ, and
 
 iS37 Lettei's, 1829-1836. 165 
 
 ■gives his heart to Christ so that it may be prepared for heaven by 
 the Holy Spirit, so long, I think, he is safe ; though the devil may 
 have power for a while to torment him. A clerg^anan, in my 
 humble opinion, is to be regarded as much as a comforter as an 
 adviser. 
 
 I like what you say of Wesley. Intellectually and morally, he 
 was a great man ; his latter days were his worst, for this plain 
 reason — he was worshipped as something more than human ; and 
 whose head would not be turned by such adoration .'' A great 
 inan of the world feels that most of his worshippers are worshipping 
 him chiefly with a view to their own interests ; but Wesley must 
 have felt that am.ong his adorers were some of the best of God's 
 creatures. That he erred, grievously erred in his conduct, I think. 
 That religion, before his day, had become too much a business of 
 the head alone, I admit ; and that he was a main instrument of 
 restoring it to the dominion of the heart must ever be acknow- 
 ledged. But the believer in a providence must ascribe the con- 
 sequences of all events to God, and God alone ; he must not 
 permit the good that has been deduced from an action to bias his 
 judgment in deciding on the nature of the action itself Wesley 
 might have been as much the instrument of good without his 
 schism as with it. We can never too constantly bear in mind that 
 we are not to look to the end, but, leaving all events in the hands of 
 God, take the circumstances which He provides for us, and then 
 ask. What under those circumstances is my duty .'' That it is 
 which God tells me to do : in tJiat way it is that I am to advance 
 His glory. 
 
 To the same — Lnportancc of Enconragement. 
 
 May 8, 1833. 
 ... I think that the system adopted by Evangelical preachers, 
 and to which Benson would seem to incline, is a very bad one, viz. 
 to divide their people into two parts, the saints and the sinners. 
 For my part, I know that my own growth in grace has been very 
 slow and gradual ; and therefore I am desirous of encouraging 
 ■others, who though perhaps not quite so far advanced as I am now, 
 are still going on, and yet feel something like despair at the slow- 
 ness of their progress. Few are they who come regularly to 
 church who have not some feelings of religion, some wishes to 
 improve. Encourage, excite, animate such persons ; don't say to
 
 1 66 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 them, ' You must be damned, because you are not better than you 
 are ;' but say, ' I am glad to see that God is so merciful to you : 
 now tr>' if you cannot make a little further spring in the straight 
 and narrow path.' O encourage, encourage, encourage one 
 another ! I hate your preachers that are always dealing in hell 
 and damnation ; I am sure that they can have never experienced 
 the difficulties with which most people have to contend, and I am 
 doubtful how far you can account that as a virtue which it has 
 required no difficulty to acquire ; while I am quite certain that the 
 wickedness is great to regard with self-complacency what is merely 
 a "-ift. For a man to say, I am never in a passion, therefore how 
 much better a man I am than so-and-so, is, of course, absurd, if 
 he has never been tempted by the passion 01 anger. But he who, 
 being naturally an ill-tempered man, has overcome the wicked 
 passion, may say, God has given me proof that He is assisting me 
 with His grace on this point, and therefore I have full confidence, 
 that confidence which experience gives, that He will likewise 
 assist me on others, where now I am almost inclined to despair. 
 
 To the same — Extremes in Religions Feeling — Over-estimate of 
 Preaching — Kebl^s ' Christian Year.' 
 
 June I, 1833. 
 . . . You can hardly imagine the difficulty there is in keeping 
 people just at the right heat. It is a fact, that Dissent generally 
 abounds in those parishes where the clergy are most active, and 
 insist earnestly on the necessity of sanctification ; and I conceive 
 the reason to be that they warm up the cold hearts to a certain 
 heat, and then many of them boil over. Of persons whom I have 
 been permitted to be the instrument of awakening to a lively sense 
 of religion, I feel morally certain that several, though so attached 
 to me that they will not desert me so long as I remain among 
 them, would, in the e\ent of my leaving them, seek ' to sit under ' 
 an Evangelical preacher. You will not misunderstand me in what 
 I have said. I do not like the one class of preachers more than 
 the other, for I think the medium between the two that which is 
 right. But if driven to the choice, I would prefer him who is 
 rather too cold to him who is rather too warm, as giving though 
 not the most pleasant, )ct the most wholesome food. For, after all, 
 the right religious heat is to be kept up in our own hearts by our- 
 selves, and chiefly by the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. It is a
 
 Letters, 1 829-1 836. 167 
 
 dangerous downfalling in the present age to exalt the ordinance of 
 preaching unduly, and to make it, as some do, a third Sacrament. 
 The being moved at a pathetic discourse is no more proof of our 
 being in a right religious tone of mind than the crying at a tragedy 
 is proof of a tender heart. Bonaparte could deluge the world 
 with blood for his seHish purposes, and yet weep over the sufferings 
 of a wounded soldier. Sensibility does not necessarily imply a 
 kind disposition. Talking of sacred poets, I hope you have read 
 and often recur to the ' Christian Year,' written by a most holy 
 man, an acquaintance of mine at Oxford, Mr. Keble. He is a man 
 the most meek, the most humble, and yet the most gifted with 
 genius and learning, of any I ever met with. He went to Oxford 
 at fourteen, and carried away all the honours and prizes ; and 
 lately refused to stand for the Headship of his College, though 
 almost certain of succeeding, that he might be the comfort and 
 support of his aged father, and relieve him from the cares of his 
 parish by acting as his curate. 
 
 From \V. P. IVood, Esq. — Christian EtJiics —Breivstcr'' s 
 Life of Newton. 
 
 Lincoln's Inn : August 1833. 
 
 ... I agree with you certainly on the point of conscience, and 
 detest Paley's chapter on the Moral Sense. The question is not, 
 whether it be thought right in one countiy to kill your aged parents 
 and in another to cherish them, but whether there be, or be not, a 
 principle within us which occasions uneasiness when we do that 
 which we think wrong, however erroneous our estimate of right and 
 wrong may be. I have not read Brown's ' Philosophy of the 
 Mind,' but have read his ' Cause and Effect,' a work undoubtedly 
 of great merit and some originality, but falling into the general 
 error or vice of the Scotch school — abusing Berkeley, and at the 
 same time pillaging him most unmercifully, so that one cannot but 
 suspect them of Voltaire's course with Shakspeare — thieving, and 
 throwing filth upon their booty to conceal it. 
 
 I like your suggestion of Scripture Ethics, the more so because, 
 in my vanity, one of my favourite plans, if ever I became rich, and 
 free from the necessary drudgery of a profession, has been to write 
 on what I meant to term Christian Ethics. . . . My scheme would 
 be to draw out a system, as near as possible resembling those of 
 the heathen authors, whose heads were by no means deficient ;
 
 1 68 Life of Walter Far quhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 and thus to point out more clearly in what they were really defi- 
 cient in each branch of duty ; for though my principles would be 
 essentially different, and therefore the results would be corre- 
 spondingly modified, yet, no doubt, i\\c pyhidple of conscience has 
 been too strong to be, mfact, obliterated, and therefore the details 
 of right and wrong in the several relations of life would not vaiy so 
 much as might be at first imagined. . . . 
 
 I have been pleased lately with the life of Newton, by Brewster. 
 Brewster is, I am happy to find, a sincere Christian, and as such 
 takes great pains to clear up the question of Newton's alleged 
 insanity, of which some infidel French philosophers (as they style 
 themselves) have made use, in order to effect a wider breach than 
 already too often exists between intellect and religion, and to prove 
 that none who have eaten the tree of knowledge can ever be 
 desirous of approaching the tree of life. These miserable men 
 seem to envy the blissful serenity which religion alone was able to 
 impart to Newton's naturally irritable temperament ; and have 
 asserted, first, that he was mad during the latter half of his life ; 
 second, that he wrote his theological works during that interval. 
 Brewster has demonstrated from published and unpublished docu- 
 ments, first, that he was never deranged, though he suffered a 
 short attack of extreme nervous excitement, occasioned by the loss 
 of his papers by fire ; and second, that one of his principal theo- 
 logical works was written before even his alleged madness, and 
 that he was also before that time in correspondence with Locke on 
 the Book of Daniel and the Book of Revelation. 
 
 Zeal for God, not according to Knowledge. 
 
 Birmingham : August 23, 1833. 
 
 My dearest Brother, . . . The error of lies not in his 
 
 religious principles, but in weakness of judgment, and consequent 
 obstinacy of character ; it is his logic not his religion which is to 
 blame ; not his principles, but his wrong application of them. His 
 position is true, that if the commands of his God and the wishes 
 of his father are at variance, the former are to be obeyed rather 
 than the latter ; but he does not see that it is, in the first place, 
 important to be morally certain as to what the command of God 
 in any particular case is ; for a man may (as he has done) mistake 
 for a command of his God what is, in fact, merely the surmise of 
 his own mind. He thinks it to be his duty to God to attempt the
 
 -1S37 Letters, 1 829-1 836. 169 
 
 conversion of his sisters ; but who commissioned him to do this ? 
 who gave him authority over his sisters ? If he looks to the Bible, 
 he may be certain that it is his duty to honour his parents ', if he 
 appeals to his common sense, he must perceive that he cannot dis- 
 honour them more than by leading their children to infer that they 
 have neglected their education, in the most essential of all points. 
 He thus neglects a duty of which he may be certain, to perform a 
 duty which he cannot prove that he is commissioned to perform. 
 For again I ask, who gave him such commission ? all he can say is, 
 that he feels it to be a duty ; but I remember a poor man who 
 felt it to be a duty to send the first good man he met to heaven, 
 and consequently he killed him. To trust to mere feeling is absurd ; 
 we are always to do what our conscience thinks right, but we are 
 to mquire wnether that is right which our conscience thus thinks. 
 That it would be his duty, if he had children of his own, to seek 
 for God's grace to instil into their minds the doctrines he believes 
 to be true, there can be no doubt ; that he is thus to promote God's 
 truth wherever Providence affords an opportunity for doing so, 
 without the violation of any known duty, is also not to be doubted ; 
 but here Providence does not open a door to him ; he cannot 
 
 attempt this without dishonouring his parents. As Lady 
 
 observes, the children are theirs, not his ; if God intends him to be 
 the means of awakening them (supposing that they are not awakened 
 to a proper sense of religion), he will call their parents to himself 
 and put it into their minds to leave him as their guardian. Then 
 what is now presumption will become a duty. He is now acting 
 as if he were without faith in the special providence of God. I say 
 all this because I am sure he will only be confirmed in his errors if 
 they are ascribed to his religion. Religion has nothing to do with 
 them. He would be indignant at the idea ; but I think that 
 between his religious principles and mine there can scarcely be a 
 shade of difiterencc ; the grace of God has softened and sanctified 
 his heart, and his affections are right with his Saviour. It is the 
 head that is the source of all the mischief. I have known him quote 
 texts of Scripture in a sense directly opposed to what is correct, 
 from mere ignorance of the Greek ; he converses on religious 
 topics only with persons as ignorant as himself : he learns to dog- 
 matise on his own imaginations ; he becomes self-sufificient and 
 soon learns to think all the world wrong except the few weak but 
 well-meaning characters who love his virtues and have not the 
 skill to discover that he is no wiseacre.
 
 170 Life of Walter Far quJiar Hook. 1S29- 
 
 Fnvi! J J'. P. ]]'(wd,Esq.—Be7-kelefsP}iiIosopliy. 
 
 Lincoln's Inn : December 7, 1833. 
 
 ... I am glad you arc al)nut to read Berkeley. There was 
 never, I think, any man since Plato who was gifted with imagina- 
 tion and reasoning power in so high a degree ; and if he, like 
 Plato, occasionally let his imagination mn wild, yet I question 
 whether Plato ever, like Berkeley, practically acted on the views 
 which were deemed visionary, and thus gave evidence of sincerity 
 and singleness of heart. I am always in love with Berkeley when 
 I think of his proffered resignation of the bishopric to ameliorate 
 the condition of the unhappy Bermudians. . . . You will feel the 
 great value of Berkeley as giving a sound resting place for the 
 mind amid the bewilderments of metaphysics. It is quite false to 
 say that Hume has demonstrated that there is no such thing as 
 spirit ; on the same principle Berkeley had shown that there was 
 no such thing as matter. In the first place, Berkeley makes no 
 such assertion, but simply that matter, considered mdepetidefitly of 
 viiftd, is a nonenity. That all those sensations we daily experience 
 from objects termed external, are real, Berkeley, who is eminently 
 an experimental or Baconian philosopher, was never absurd enough 
 to deny. For external, read independent of t/s or oin' minds, and 
 you will have Berkeley's notion of matter as regards man ; but he 
 boldly asserts that matter cannot be conceived of by us as inde- 
 pendent of a mind. The Scotch metaphysicians to a man either 
 wilfully or stupidly jumble a mind with t/ie mind, meaning each in- 
 dividual's mind, whilst by a mind, Berkeley means some mind or 
 other ; and admitting that the table at which I am now writing 
 will exist when I do not think of it, the question is. Can it exist if 
 there be no mind to limit out its nature, which is but an aggregate 
 of sensations ? Berkeley says. No ; and e.xperience, I think, 
 demonstrates that what can only be known as an object of sensa- 
 tion, owes its existence to a sentient power ; not mine or yours, 
 because experience shows the sensations to exist independently of 
 your will or mine, but to the Eternal sentient power by whose will 
 our minds perceive it as that which is created or willed by Him. 
 This is always to me the most beautiful demonstration of a God, 
 and most satisfactory refutation of the eternity of matter which is, 
 according to Berkeley, an absurdity, matter being but the stage in 
 which certain volitions of the Supreme Mind are exhibited to man»
 
 -i837 Letters, 1 829-1 836. 171 
 
 The resurrection of the body also becomes thus at once inteUigible, 
 because He who wills us to perceive the efforts of His will in a 
 certain manner now, may cause us to perceive them in a similar 
 manner at any future time, blessing us probably with additional 
 pleasure by a more thorough perception of the beauty of His work. 
 By '•us'' you will see I consider the mind alone, regarding the 
 material about us as no other than a combination of God's im- 
 pressed thoughts (if I may so say) which affects our minds with 
 various impressions, such as pain and pleasure and their infinite 
 varieties. . . . 
 
 I have not time to write to you about Miss Martineau's Tales, 
 of which of course you have heard, and we have read many. Some 
 are, I think, excellent, and all are powerful where her imagination 
 comes into play. Her reasoning is not and does not pretend to be 
 original. It is taken verbatim from Malthus and McCulloch, a bad 
 school, and her sectarianism not unfrequently peeps out ; but I 
 would recommend you strongly to read the ' Manchester Strike,' 
 which might I think be useful to your poor people at Coventry 
 hereafter, if the time should come when any such folly should be 
 meditated. 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. — Attitude towards Dissenters. 
 
 December 20, 1833. 
 During the season of Christmas — sermons, sacraments, and 
 holy rejoicings, you cannot expect a long letter. But yet I cannot 
 refrain from expressing to you how heartily and entirely I concur 
 with you in all you say in your last. The comparison between the 
 worshippers on Mount Gerizim and the Dissenters is admirable, 
 and is precisely the view I have always taken of the question. 
 We are, moreover, always in speaking of an action to make the 
 distinction between what is absolutely and what is relatively right 
 or wrong. It is for the intention only, i.e. the relative rightness or 
 wrongness, that a man will be judged, if he has properly inquired, 
 as far as his abilities permit, as to the absolute nature of the action. 
 That schism is a sin, we know, but that every schismatic (so called) 
 is a sinner, I by no means admit, for he may not act with a 
 schismatical intent. And yet it may be charity in me, in some 
 instances, to tell him that I think him a schismatic, in order to 
 awaken him to inquiry. In some instances I say ; for my rule is 
 never to disturb the faith of those who have been educated in
 
 ^']2 Life of JValier Farquhar Hook. 1S29- 
 
 Dissent, if they hold the doctrine of the Atonement, if they are 
 ]icrsons not qualified to judge of the differences between us. . . . 
 I believe that our position is this : you may be going in the right 
 road, and I hope you arc ; but I feel more certain that this is the 
 right road, and therefore I remain in it ; my assurance is stronger. 
 
 To the sajiic — T/ie Good and Evil of the Established Church. 
 
 February 4, 1834. 
 
 ... I perfectly agree with you in thinking that a man may be 
 attached to the Church and opposed to an establishment ; Bishop 
 Hobart was so, and most of the veiy high Churchmen in England 
 are so : it was, indeed, chiefly with a view to them that I have 
 printed the second sermon.^ If you look to the religious public 
 only, I should agree ; but, looking to the irreligious also, I do not 
 agree. \ know that you think an establishment tends to secularise 
 the clergy ; but I see quite as much, and more, secularity among 
 the Dissenting ministers. If the clergy are too much inclined to 
 Torj'ism, the Dissenting ministers are to Radicalism, and some 
 of the Dissenting meeting-houses in this city are, every Sunday 
 evening, converted after service into political debating societies. 
 Is not the Dissenting teacher as secular when seeking to fill his 
 pews by preaching, not truth, but popular doctrine, as the clerg)'^- 
 man who makes unworthy compliances to conciliate a patron ? 
 Both are to be condemned ; but while the world lasts some degree 
 of secularity in twelve thousand men there must be ; the only 
 question is, whether it matters how it shows itself? Mind, my 
 dear friend, I do not quarrel with you for taking just the opposite 
 view, I only state what occurs to me : my prejudices may induce 
 me to exaggerate the advantages of an establishment, and yet the 
 time was when I j^refcrrcd being without one. 
 
 From W. r. Wood, Esq. — Advantages and e7'i Is of an 
 Established Religion. 
 
 Lincoln's Inn : February 1834. 
 
 ... I think you have brought fonvard ever>' argument in favour 
 
 of an establishment with the greatest force. You tell me you hope 
 
 to convert me, and will, I dare say, think me an obstinate creature 
 
 if not quite a convert. However, I will acknowledge that you 
 
 1 ' On the Churcli and the Estabhshment.'
 
 -i837 Letters, 1 829-1 836. 173 
 
 have confirmed my perhaps hesitating opinion that where we find 
 a Churcli estabhshed we ought not to lend any assistance towards 
 «^«estabHshing. I am not a lover of change at any time for the 
 sake of change (though you may smile at this, looking to my Radi- 
 calism); I ever consider change as a positive evil, for assuredly 
 happiness consists in tranquillity, and He who is all wise and all 
 happy is immutable ; but there are cases, as all must admit, where 
 the evils of abiding in your actual state and the advantage to be 
 derived from a change fully justify the effort and sacrifice required 
 for alteration. Such, however, is not, I think, the case with regard 
 to the Establishment. Amongst the evils, which I cannot but yet 
 think incident to the compulsory support by the State of any 
 religious doctrine, there are to be found unquestionably great and 
 perhaps counterbalancing benefits, and I would not root up the 
 tares lest the wheat be rooted up also. 
 
 Of course I do not think an establishment unscriptural, that is, 
 forbidden by Scripture, or I should consider the question settled. 
 ' Unscriptural ' is one of those convenient words for controversy 
 which allow the opponents of the Church the widest possible field 
 by keeping off any close attack. In one sense, unquestionably the 
 Establishment is unscriptural ; that is to say, the early Christian 
 Church as delhieated in Scripture rested, from the necessity of the 
 case, upon no support from the State, and this the Dissenter falls 
 back upon when pressed by argument. I think your argument as 
 to the Jewish Church a very good one against the Establishment 
 being unscriptural in any other sense, but I do not think it equally 
 good as a positive reason to urge us to an alliance of Church and 
 State, for there was a direct temporal covenant between God and 
 the Jewish nation. The Government remained in some sense a 
 theocracy even after St. Paul's conversion, and where God was the 
 temporal monarch it was almost a necessaiy consequence that His 
 ministers would lae temporal governors also. My objections, or 
 rather, I should say, my difficulties, as to establishments are several ; 
 first, political, the difficulty of choosing your establishment, for I in- 
 cline to think that the forcing of six millions in Ireland to pay for 
 the maintenance of the religion of one million is almost unscriptural 
 in the worst sense. In Scotland we have acted differently ; treating 
 Ireland as a conquered country, that is, by the rule of force. 
 I think an establishment of our Church in India, supported by 
 forced contributions from the natives would be monstrous. To this 
 I know you will answer that tlic litlics arc a gift by Christian
 
 1/4 Ltf^ of Walter FarqiLhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 possessors. This may, and, I think, does apjily to England ; but 
 consider how the possessors acquired their property in Ireland — by 
 nothing, in fact, but brutal violence done to the large majority of 
 that nation, though a weak minority as compared with the over- 
 whelming forces of England. My second objection to establish- 
 ments is, their effect on the clergy, but I will not enter into a long 
 disquisition on this point ; and my third objection is, the effect on 
 the laity, who become members of a Church because it is estab- 
 lished, and make no further inquiry. I admit great force in Ihe 
 arguments you bring forward as to the indirect effect on families, 
 and I admit also the difficulties entangling the whole question ; but 
 I should ever wish, above all things, to see the questions kept sepa- 
 rate, for there are not many who have your liberality in thinking 
 one can belong to the Church of Christ without being over anxious 
 as to the seats of Bishops in Parliament, and the other consequences 
 of a union between Church and State ; and this species of bigotry is 
 itself one of the evils of that union, for I fear many give the State 
 at least equal consideration. 
 
 To IV. P. Wood, Esq.— A busy Week. 
 
 Coventry : Easter Monday, March 31, 1834. 
 
 I write to you to thank you for your kind letter, though I can- 
 not write much ; for although my hard work of Passion Week is 
 over, yet my feasting work of Easter Week has begun. My curate, 
 Mr. Crawford, this day regales the girls of our blue-coat school ; 
 to-morrow our vestry dine together ; next day I feast fifty young 
 operatives, who assist in the management of our Sunday schools ; 
 Thursday, I suppose I shall be sick with all this festivity ; Friday, 
 I must visit my poor ; Saturday, write my sermon ; so, you see, 
 though ver)'- pleasant, my hands are very full. 
 
 To W. P Wood, Esq. — Correspondence of Alexander Knox and 
 Bishop yebb — Henry Martyn — Lucas on Happiness. 
 
 September 22, 1834. 
 
 ... I exhort you very earnestly to read the correspondence of 
 Knox and Jebb, because it is a book well calculated to calm your 
 mind at the present time, and to set one a-thinking in the right 
 line. I am rather urgent upon this subject, because, moreover, 
 v.hile Mr. Knox frequently reminds me of you, while he
 
 -1837 Letters, 1 829-1 836, 175 
 
 was to Bishop J ebb nearly as much as you are to me ; their 
 system of Christian philosophy is one pecuharly adapted to you. I 
 think that of late (and under your present afflictive circumstances 
 it is natural that it should be so) your views with respect to religion 
 have taken a less bright turn than I could wish ; I mean that you 
 seem to despond too much about the capabilities of renewed human 
 nature, and, falling a little into the spirit of the age, to rate too 
 highly the active, and too lowly the contemplative life. On all 
 these points the words of Knox and Jebb appear to me to be the 
 words of soberness and truth. We are not to underrate, and we 
 are not to overrate, the persons of active life, the practical men as 
 they are called ; but the meditative Christian may, perhaps, be 
 able to draw nearer to perfection than the other ; though the 
 meditative Christian philosopher would scarcely in these days be 
 called a Christian at all. I would not have you measure yourself 
 by Henry Martyn, nor would I have held you up to Henry Martyn 
 as a model. I think that Martyn, by-the-bye, committed a grievous 
 error in throwing himself out of that sphere to which Providence 
 assuredly called him ; and hence, probably, his want of success. 
 I wish not to detract from the virtues of so admirable a man ; 
 hut I should say to another, if God has caused you to be born in a 
 Christian country, has put it into your parents' minds to give you 
 a learned education, and has so far blessed your exertions as to 
 enable you to become a senior wrangler, you should read in that 
 circumstance His command to serve Him as a man of learning and 
 reading. Practical work may be performed by an inferior intel- 
 lect, not only as well but better ; the religious cultivation of intellect 
 is a duty to those who have the time. Again, I would say that 
 those who find themselves engaged in a secular profession ought not 
 to torment themselves because they are not directly engaged in 
 God's work ; they may do more good by the rhetoric of their 
 good example. Knox and Jebb are great perfectionists ; religious 
 cdiJicatio7i^ not religious excitement^ was what they sought ; and 
 feeling sure that the Scriptures could not urge an impossibility, 
 they fully expected to reach, and I really believe they did reach, 
 what the Scripture means by perfection ; although, because not a 
 bustling, practical man, Bishop Jebb was much abused by the 
 Evangelicals. If you wish to see what the Scripture means by per- 
 fection, I would refer you to a book recommended in their letters, 
 the second volume of Lucas upon Happiness ; a work which is so 
 strictly devotional that it would be a good one for your Sunday
 
 176 Life of Walter Far quhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 readings. I delight in it ; you will there find it, I think, satis- 
 factorily proved that when the Scriptures speak of perfection, they 
 mean habitual righteousness. Conversion begins, perfection com- 
 pletes, the habit. Habit is second nature, therefore the habitually 
 righteous are called new creatures, partakers of the Divine nature, 
 &c. Lucas shows how a man, in this world, can live without sin, 
 that is, mortal sin ; venial sin or imperfections of course there are, 
 but these he would style frailties : I perfectly agree with him. If you 
 look upon sin as unconnected with a Saviour, there can be no such 
 thing as venial sin ; sin is the transgression of the law, and the soul 
 that sinneth it shall die. But what has Christ done for us .'* He has 
 procured heaven for the habitually righteous ; they are thus freed 
 from the penalty of the original law ; and being under the Gospel 
 their occasional infirmities are either not to be called sins, or to be 
 classed as venial sins, not having in them any longer the sentence 
 of death. Connected with this subject Lucas and the correspon- 
 dents would open a via media with respect to Romans vii., neither 
 agreeing with those who would apply the passage to the renewed 
 Christian as long as he is in the flesh, nor agreeing wath those whO' 
 would have applied it to the unrenewed. They would apply it to 
 such as are in a progressive state, who are in progress to renovation \ 
 to the babe in Christ, the young man of St. John, not to the perfect 
 man, not to the fathers. 
 
 To ir. p. IVood^ Esq. — Serinon-'W7-itiJtg — Knox and Jcbb — 
 Regeneration and Renovation. 
 
 September 31, 1834. 
 
 I avail myself of a wet day and a little poorlytude to have a 
 little coze with you. I veiy often feel inclined to write to you, 
 indeed I always do when I am in meditation mood ; but that is the 
 very time, of course, for sermonising also : and as duty must yield 
 to pleasure, so my correspondence with you flags that sennons 
 may exist. For my part, I think one sermon per week for a man 
 of moderate abilities, and with three days entirely devoted to 
 practical work, during which ^vriting and reading must be suspended, 
 is quite enough. I write my sermon at a sitting, at least generally, 
 and I find those extempore discourses tell best ; but then I have 
 to think it well over during the early days of the week, and to con- 
 sult commentators when there is need ; and sometimes one cannot 
 help feeling, as one advances in learning oneself, that it would be
 
 -1837 Letters, 1829-1836. 177 
 
 pleasanter to have a more intellectual congregation than I have 
 here. It is not pleasant, and perhaps not profitable, to be obliged to 
 check one's thoughts, and to blot out a page because you feel it to 
 be above the reach of any of your hearers. But then, on the other 
 hand, the moral discipline is very useful ; and when a man begins 
 to think that he could do better in a more extensive sphere, the 
 probability is that there is a spirit of pride lurking in the heart, and 
 ' Get thee behind me, Satan ! ' ought to be resolutely said, with a 
 prayer for grace. 
 
 Delicia and I are reading together the correspondence of 
 Bishop Jebb with Mr. Alexander Knox ; it is a work which no 
 one can read without improvement. The natural, fervent, glowing 
 eloquence of Mr. Knox is sometimes veiy striking. In the use of 
 some terms he is unfortunate ; e.g. he uses the word regeneration 
 for what we should call renovation, making, as the apostle does, a 
 distinction between the washing of regeneration and the renewing 
 of the Holy Ghost. Both are needful to make the complete 
 Christian, but the renewing of the Holy Ghost may not be, as we 
 too sadly see, where the regeneration has been. Regeneration was 
 the term applied to baptism by all the Fathers ; by every writer, 
 I believe, till the Reformation ; and it was used to denote, not the 
 final triumph of grace over the heart, but the primary operations of 
 the Spirit in the scheme of man's redemption. The Puritans used 
 the term to signify the final triumph of grace over the heart ; and 
 then, giving a new meaning to the term, abused the Church for 
 using the word in the old sense. 
 
 To W. P. JVood, Esq. — Siiffraga7t Bishops — Admission of 
 Laymen to Cofivocaiion — Church and Dissent. 
 
 April 1835. 
 ... I cannot help saying how entirely I agree in all the sen- 
 timents you so well express, except in your allusions to the Bishops. 
 I consider it important in this age, when political power is every- 
 thing, that there should attach some degree of political power and 
 consequence to the heads of the Church. I do not say that the 
 attachment of the peerage to the bishoprics is not attended with 
 some evil, but I think the good preponderates, and I hope that 
 there will be instituted suffragan bishoprics, for which the constitu- 
 tion makes provision without peerages, and this will bring the 
 bishops and the people, as you wish, into closer communion. I 
 
 N
 
 I 78 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 perfectly admit what you say touching the propriety of an occa- 
 sional national synod ; say, a synod to be held once in three years, 
 together with annual diocesan synods ; and I should wish to have 
 the laity represented in them. My former objection was to Con- 
 vocation, which is, in fact, not an ecclesiastical synod, but merely a 
 convention of ecclesiastics, originally called by the King to tax 
 themselves, and afterwards — first from convenience and then from 
 custom — formed into an assembly for the discussion of spiritual 
 affairs. I am an advocate for the introduction of laymen, though 
 I think the proportion is too great in the American convention, to 
 the constitution of which there are some objections. It is a curious 
 fact that, when the attention of the laity is called to such matters, 
 the laity always become higher Churchmen than the clergy, the 
 latter generally, I suppose, feeling a fear lest they should appear to 
 advance their personal claims when defending the rights of their 
 order. Our two great High Church authorities are, Robert 
 Nelson, Esq., and Ileniy Dodsworth, Esq.; and it is a curious 
 fact that, when it was lately proposed in America that the pulpits 
 of the Church should be opened to all sectarians holding the 
 doctrine of the Trinity, the clergy yielded, but the laity resolutely 
 resisted the shameful propositions. So again, when it was pro- 
 posed to let the Wesleyans unite with the Church on condition that 
 their existing ministers should not be episcopally ordained, here 
 also the clerg)', looking to the immense accession to their numbers 
 (not, of course, to their principles, or what ought to be their principles) 
 which would thus occur, gave ground ; but the laity would not con- 
 sent. Anything which would bring these subjects under discussion 
 would be a good, at least in our opinion, who believe that we have 
 the truth ; and it is lamentable to see how ignorant the clergy are, 
 even good, pious, hardworking men, on the commonest points of 
 discipline. I agree with you also in what you say of Brother Jona- 
 than ; with all his faults he is our brother, and if I am driven from 
 England, I shall hope to abide with him. America is the next 
 best country to our own, and as to what travellers say of the Ameri- 
 cans, we may always reply : the wonder is, not that they are behind 
 us, but that so new a country should have come so near to us. 
 
 To IV. P. Wood, Esq. — Cahnness and Co7iJidence in ilie 
 Discharge of Duty. 
 
 Leanungton : May 6, 1835. 
 . . . The cure of twenty thousand souls would not be to me 
 more arduous than of nine thousand ; for why.-* in either case it is
 
 -iS37 Letters, 1 829-1 836 179 
 
 impossible to attend to them all, and God does not require impos- 
 sibilities at our hands. I should feel then as I feel now, ' All that 
 the Father giveth to me, will come unto me ' ; there will be a 
 special providence over those who are prepared to embrace the 
 means of salvation, and either they will be led to me, or I to them. 
 It is the fault of the present day, to think and to act as if man 
 could do everything, and certainly to forget God's special Provi- 
 dence. Hence that busybodyness which distinguishes the religious 
 world, and prevents that depth of piety which is the result of sober, 
 calm reflection, and which shows itself in doing calmly, and 
 unostentatiously, not what seems likely to be attended with the 
 greatest results, but simply the duty our hand findeth to do. What 
 does God require of me ? is the question to be asked ; and the 
 answer is, Nothing that can interfere with any immediate duty. 
 Your, immediate duty, for instance, of a Sunday afternoon is, as 
 you say, with your father ; you would be wrong then to omit this, 
 even were the entire welfare of the school to depend on your in- 
 dividual exertions ; for God can provide teachers for the school 
 without your aid. In the morning, no immediate duty claims your 
 time, and you therefore devote it to a work of charity. Now with 
 these principles, I should not feel any fears in undertaking any 
 parish ; and though I do not see any objection to the plan you 
 propose of licensing rooms for divine service, yet I would never 
 do anything irregular for any object whatever, under the conviction 
 that the times and seasons are in God's own hands. 
 
 To IV. P. Wood, Esq. — Youthful Dirains — Advice to 
 Young Poets. 
 
 October 14, 1835. 
 
 . . . Yesterday I returned, and this my first holiday I dedicate 
 to my friend ; for though, after a day of labour, I cannot sit down 
 to write a letter, because the stooping tries me, I know no recrea- 
 tion greater than that of writing to you. I always in doing so 
 regain some portion of that boyish enthusiasm for which, as we 
 advance in years, we so often sigh in vain. I remember well the days 
 when the highest object of my ambition was that we should be 
 famed in story as the modern Pylades and Orestes, and appear as 
 twin autlTors, the rivals of Beaumont and Fletcher. Those were 
 days when 1 tliought no one worthy of consideration except a poet ; 
 and I fondly dreamed, what I found out, to my great comfort, m 
 good time to be only a dream, that I was born to be one whose 
 
 N 2
 
 I So Life of Walter Farqnhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 eye should be always in a ' fine frenzy rolling.' I have this day 
 thought of this the more, since I found a\?aiting my arrival from 
 Oxford a small volume of poems by a very youthful poet, request- 
 ing me to give my advice as to the publication of them. This kind 
 of thing has often occurred to me, and it places one in a most 
 awkward predicament. If you advise the author to publish, you 
 only send him to the flogging form to be scourged to death by the 
 critics ; and if you tell him honestly that the thing will not do, you 
 seriously hurt a mind which must be sensitive {must be, or it would 
 not overflow in poetry), and do injury to feelings which are for the 
 most part amiable. I do cordially enter into the feelings of the 
 poor young writers, for I have felt as they feel, and had I been in 
 their situation of life with a friendly pastor to consult, I should 
 most likely have written the same kind of warm-hearted, respect- 
 ful, tremulous letter as those are which I am frequently in the 
 habit of receiving. The volume now before me is accompanied by 
 a letter, which, as it gives me archiepiscopal honours (bishops 
 having succeeded poets in my love), styling me 'most reverend 
 Sir,' is very flattering. But, poor lad, what am I to do for him ? 
 with much poetical sentiment he has much bad grammar, with no 
 power of expression : that is, he is born to admire poetry, not to 
 write it ; although he expects clearly that when his volume sees 
 the light some future Johnson will contend for his admission into 
 the assembly of British poets. I must do to him as I have done 
 for others : after a civil word or two, I must assume the look, not 
 of a critic, but a friendly adviser, of a Maicius or a Horace, and say 
 of the poem, 
 
 Nonumque prematur in annum, 
 Membranis intus positis ; delere licebit 
 Quod non edideris. Nescit vox missa reverti. 
 
 This must be the text, and I must expound it ; happy I, that my 
 prot^gis understand not Latin, or perhaps their minds would go a 
 little higher up the page and understand my hint too clearly, uporij 
 seeing 
 
 Qui nescit, versus tamen audet fingere. 
 
 Luther and O^Comtell compared — Catholicism most potent 
 against Popery. 
 
 October 1835. 
 
 My dearest Mother, ... I am glad that Georgiana so tho- 
 roughly understands the principles of the Church of her Saviour,
 
 -1837 Letters, 1 829-1 836. 181 
 
 and is not ashamed of them. The danger now is, not from Poper>', 
 but from that snare of Satan, ultra-Protestantism. Perhaps, if she 
 had read as much about Luther as I have done, she would have 
 floored her antagonist by stating her abhorrence of that man's 
 principles. I am amused to hear those who abuse O'Connell 
 eulogising Luther ; for Luther's line of conduct, his violence, his 
 insubordination, was precisely similar to that of O'Connell. Luther 
 was certainly a most ultra-radical, and he certainly permitted the 
 Elector of Hesse to marry two wives in order that he might secure 
 him for a political partisan. Both he and O'Connell have made 
 religion their pretext ; but whether they were not both rather in- 
 fluenced by a factious spirit, may be doubtful ; the only difference 
 between them is, that they have taken the opposite extremes. I 
 am a lover of truth wherever it leads, and therefore I will not seek 
 to whitewash Luther merely because he was a useful instrument 
 against Popery. I am rather amused at your saying that you 
 would not receive the Sacraments from a Popish priest, and in the 
 same sentence professing admiration of the Church ; for if the 
 ministrations of Popish priests be not valid, how do you prove the 
 validity of your own orders, descended as we are in regular line 
 from Popish priests .'' 
 
 Let Georgiana glory in being called a Papist, while she holds 
 not Popish, but Catholic principles. All the great divines of the 
 Church of England, from the blessed martyr. Laud, down to Bishop 
 Butler, and from Bishop Butler down to our own times, to Mr. 
 Rose, all have been called Papists, though they have hated the 
 Pope, and done more service against Popery than all the Ultras, who 
 really act on Popish principles. Tell her that when a man in argu- 
 ment urges extreme cases, it is a sign that he is a blockhead, and I 
 always cut the matter short by saying : ' Pray, what would you do 
 if you were a horse ? When you have made up your mind on that 
 point, then I will tell you what I should do were I placed in 
 circumstances in which I never expect to be placed.' 
 
 Contentment iuit]i Coventry. 
 
 Coventry: October 21, 1835. 
 
 My dearest Mother, ... As to any change in my preferment, 
 I speak the sentiments both of Delicia and myself, which we often 
 express to one another in great sincerity, that we should contemplate 
 any change with sorrow. Here we are as perfectly happy and as
 
 i82 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1829- 
 
 nearly contented as mortals can be. Two hundred a year, tO' 
 enable me to buy a few more books and her to have a little carriage, 
 would be the very summit of our wishes ; and if that wish were 
 granted, other evils would attend. If we improve our condition in 
 one way, we should only injure it in another ; we have here a union 
 of perfect retirement in one respect, with just sufficient excitement in 
 another. I hope you will persevere in your course of saying nothing 
 about me or my affairs ; as the good old Bishop used to say, ' The 
 less we hear of ourselves, either in praise or dispraise, the better.' 
 As regards myself, my system has always been to act according to 
 my own views, to do what I think right, without the least regard to 
 the opinions of others, to evil report or good repoi't ; this is the 
 only way to obtain peace of mind and consistency of conduct. 
 I find now that those who were at one time very angry with me, 
 seeing they cannot alter me, arc beginning to praise me ; to wit, 
 our kind-hearted Bishop. I will not budge a step to go over to 
 others, and therefore many .others of my acquaintance have come 
 over to me, while all do me the favour of leaving off any attempts 
 to convert me. I have always determined to be independent, to go 
 my own way to work, and consequently I am as obstinate as a pig ; 
 unless a friend chooses to call my obstinacy perseverance in a good 
 cause. I never care for censures, and when I am praised, my chief 
 rejoicing is, if I know myself, that my principles have prevailed. 
 For as to the praise of man, I know its worthlessness, for I find in 
 general when it is bestowed upon me it is a bitter satire, alluding rather 
 to what it is supposed I have done than to what is really the case. 
 
 I heard to-day from my friend, my very kind friend, Mr. Rose ; 
 by the way, his is a very flattering letter, as he expresses his great 
 wish that nothing may take me away from Coventry. When people 
 say this, it is a real compliment ; and dear, dear Coventry, I never 
 wish to leave thee. I confess I feel what the good Bishop would 
 have called a little sinful pride, at having the title of ' Mr. Hook of 
 Coventr)'- : ' my ambition is to be known in after times in the 
 catalogue of our Vicars as ' the painful preacher of Coventry.' 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. — Sennons, Means of InstrKction rather than 
 of Grace — Dr. Moberly — Sermon at Oxford. 
 
 November 21, 1835. 
 ... I do not look upon sermons, as people in the present day 
 too frequently do, as direct means of grace, but simply as means
 
 -i837 Letters, 1 829-1 S36. 183 
 
 of instruction. The ultra-Protestant notion, that preaching is a 
 direct means of grace, was unknown to the ancients ; they taught 
 men to seek for grace chiefly in the two Sacraments, and then in 
 prayer. 
 
 When I was at Oxford, I had the pleasure of hearing the new 
 Master of Winchester preach. He was select preacher in the 
 morning, I in the afternoon. I afterwards met him at Dr. Burton's, 
 and he told me he remembered my last half-year at Winton ; I 
 suppose, therefore, you knew more of him. His name is Moberly ; 
 he is a delightful preacher ; his discourse was deeply metaphysical, 
 on Predestination, and I thought he handled it admirably. I cer- 
 tainly never preached to such a mob before, not even in my own 
 church ; not only was the church crowded with gownsmen up to 
 the pulpit stairs, but the townspeople presented in the distance quite 
 a sea of heads. You will perhaps think that I was appalled at the 
 sight ; but no ! I am very nervous when I preach in a place for the 
 first time, but when I am accustomed to it my nerves become 
 hardened. It is not from nerves that I suffer so much as from 
 great excitement, and as I am excited just as much when I write 
 what I am to speak, as when I speak what I have written, sermon- 
 ising does not particularly agree with me. I find that I can put 
 myself in precisely the same position of mind when delivering my 
 sennon as when writing, and consequently can add extempore bits. 
 And this is in fact all that extempore preachers really do, if they 
 are speakers worth anything ; they have a speech by heart, of which 
 they are so thoroughly masters that they can add to it, take away 
 from it, or partially change as they go on. If the speech is their 
 own, the overflow of their own thoughts, they can do this ; if, as is 
 generally the case, they have only worked up other people's ideas, 
 they cannot do this, and consequently they fail ; is not this the 
 case ? 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. — Argument — P7-ejudice — Religious and 
 Useful Knowledge Society. 
 
 February i, 1836. 
 
 . . . You say that my argument about the Reformation is mon- 
 strous, and that it will convince no one. My dear friend, did you 
 ever know anyone convinced by argument ? it is a thing I never 
 attempt. All that I attempt is to confirm those in their opinion, 
 whose opinion I believe to be correct ; and this you seem to admit 
 will be done. My own conviction is, that men never entirely c^uit
 
 184 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1829- 
 
 their hereditar)' opinions and principles, except from interest or 
 passion ; I look upon the Whig son of a Tory, or the Tory son of a 
 Whig, as an ill-conditioned cur. All that I should attempt to do 
 would be to modify : to make a man less vehement and violent, and 
 so to prepare the next generation for an imperceptible change. If 
 a Whig turns Tory, or a Dissenter a Churchman, 1 rejoice, but it is 
 generally speaking merely because his family will be educated in 
 what I think right principles, that their prejudices will be in favour 
 of the truth ; the convert himself in nine cases out of ten (mind, I 
 make exceptions) has been influenced by some passion or pride. 
 We inherit in like manner our religion, and it was intended that 
 we should do so. Christianity was taught by word of mouth before 
 the Scriptures were written ; what we receive by tradition, we 
 correct and improve by reference to Scripture. No man takes his 
 religion from Scripture only; it would take a lifetime to do this; he 
 is what he was brought up, and corrects himself by the Scriptures, 
 which were given for that purpose. And I look upon the advantages 
 of an Establishment to consist greatly in this, that it secures a wide 
 spread of traditionary religion, creates a prejudice in favour of re- 
 ligion. I put down a man who pretends to be unprejudiced as a 
 humbug. The great thing is, to create good prejudices : this is 
 what the Bible tells us to do, when it bids us bring up our children 
 in the ' nurture and admonition of the Lord.' It is through the 
 spectacles of prejudice that we look upon facts the most clear ; for 
 instance, and with reference to that which has given rise to these 
 observations, what different impressions are made on your mind 
 and mine by certain facts. 
 
 To IV. P. Wood., Esq. — Accused of Ititolcrance — Sermon at Oxford. 
 
 Shrove Tuesday, February 17, 1836. 
 
 ... I am rather amused with our opponents having styled me 
 the Rev. Autocrat of Coventry^ ; my autocracy simply consisting in 
 always doing what I think to be right, without regard to con- 
 sequences, and the result being, as it generally is, that, as I will 
 not go over to others, others come over to me. I have a strong 
 feeling that I will not belong to a society from which my Saviour 
 and my God is virtually excluded. I belonged to a rather good 
 library and reading-room in this town, from which I withdrew on 
 that account, viz. that no religious books were admissible ; the 
 object of course being to obtain the support of all sects. I did not
 
 -i837 Letters, 1 829-1 836. 185 
 
 state, and have not stated, this to be my reason, but simply retired, 
 not having sufficiently examined the subject to urge the principle 
 upon others ; but the more I reflect on it, the more inclined I 
 am to think that I am right. An express exclusion of the Master 
 we serve ought to be a virtual exclusion of ourselves. I mention 
 this because I should like to know whether and what you have to 
 object to it. If things go on as they now are, I shall be obliged in 
 self-defence to assert iny principles. Our position is this : we are 
 accused of intolerance and I know not what all for not having acted 
 with the Mechanics' Institute; and as to religious works, it is asked, 
 Why could not the Rev. Autocrat establish a Church lending 
 library.? and we are assailed with all manner of abuse. Now, it 
 certainly seems to me that the intolerance is all on the other side ; 
 for it is intolerance to try to compel another, no matter how, 
 whether by ridicule, abuse, or force, to walk in my way ; but it is 
 not intolerance for me to refuse to walk in the same path with 
 another if I disagree with him, or if I cannot conscientiously do so. 
 You are kind enough to ask how my sermon went off at Oxford, 
 and I hope by the attention that is paid to me, that by the blessing 
 of a good God my labours in the University will not be vain. 
 My brother was there, and he was told that the church was fuller 
 
 than it had ever been since 's memorable sermon, in which he 
 
 attacked the Church just before he quitted our communion. It was 
 indeed a grand and imposing sight, as one stood in the pulpit, and 
 until I got well into my subject I was very nervous and, as I was 
 afterwards told, looked deadly pale. From the pulpit you see 
 nothing but men, and the black gowns give a sombre appearance 
 to the scene. There is, too, a most awful silence, occasioned doubt- 
 less by the absence of children, and of the rustling of silks and 
 satins. 
 
 To W. P. Wood^ Esq. — A Drifter into Romanism — Trattsmissii'e 
 Religion. 
 
 April 18, 1836. 
 
 . . . And now for Minchin. I predict that he will become a 
 Romanist, because his affections are engaged on that side. 
 He is disgusted with the illiberality of ultra-Protestants, which is 
 doubtless great, but he does not perceive the illiberality of Roman- 
 ism, which is yet greater. See particularly Pope Pius's Creed and 
 the Canons of Trent ; his one-sided view of that question shows 
 the predilection, and when that is the* case, Romanism has much
 
 1 86 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 to say for itself. My opinion is that God intends that religion 
 shall be as the general rule transmissive ; and that we are to take 
 the religion we inherit, and examine it by the Scriptures, adhering 
 to it if we find the Scriptures in great degree confirming what we 
 have received, correcting and improving what was deficient in our 
 father's creed or practice ; but in doubtful cases interpreting 
 Scripture so as to lean to the side of our ancestors ; thus using our 
 reason but acting with humility. This makes it important for us 
 never for the sake of peace to shrink from the assertion of truth, 
 since it is most important to make the traditional religion of our 
 country- what it ought to be. Now it appears to me that to Minchin 
 veiy little religion was transmitted ; what he learned was verj^ im- 
 perfectly learned at Winchester. He has lived chiefly abroad, and 
 there the religion transmitted to him has been Romanism ; it has 
 had attractions for him, and he is much in the condition of a man 
 who has been born and bred a Romanist. When he examines, he 
 will incline to the side of Romanism ; doubtful points will receive 
 force from this prejudice, he will often see the weakness of an 
 argument on our side, seldom on the side of the Romanists. I 
 think, however, the best book you can send him at present is a 
 little work I republished a few years ago with notes ; ' Friendl)^ 
 Advice to Roman Catholics.' It is by the celebrated Dean 
 Comber, and is written in a very mild, conciliatory tone. If this 
 makes an impression, I will think of some other works for his 
 edification. I like ypur idea of Hooker ; it is always better to ex- 
 plain the nature of true Churchism than to make a decided attack 
 on Romanism ; to assert the truth than to combat error. Palmer 
 has a work in the press, perhaps the most important on this subject 
 since the days of Hooker, and intended to meet the modern objec- 
 tions of Romanism ; I wish it were out. You know I am an unflinch- 
 ing asserter of what I believe to be the truth, regardless of persons 
 and consequences, and I am therefore called illiberal and bigoted, 
 &c. But I never condemn an individual who piously belongs to 
 the system I may censure and oppose. I would stay the progress 
 of an erroneous system, even sometimes when I should refrain 
 from seeking to make a proselyte of one who belongs to the sys- 
 tem ; for unless that proselyte can be made by sound reasoning, 
 you gain nothing by winning him, and perhaps injure his own cha- 
 racter ; saving that you secure the better education of his children,, 
 which is sometimes to be considered. I can thus oppose Roman- 
 ism, but love a Romanist ; and I should rejoice to renew my
 
 -i837 Letters, 1829-1836. 187 
 
 acquaintance with old Toody, of whom I can never think without 
 afifection ; even though we could not prevail upon him not to take 
 this false step, to which, as I conceive, I can trace the circum- 
 stances which led him. 
 
 To a young Clergyman — Opinion on Lay Baptism — Advice about 
 Private Life Treatment of Dissenters. 
 
 Leamington : July 27, 1836. 
 
 My dear , — The question you propose is a difficult one tc 
 
 answer. So far as argument goes, it appears to me that the line 
 of argument adopted by you is correct, and lay baptism ought not 
 to be considered valid. But I am inclined to think that the prac- 
 tice of the Catholic Church has been on the other side, and that 
 lay baptism, though considered uncanonical, improper, and much 
 to be censured, has not been treated as invalid. When heretics 
 were received into the Church they were not baptized^ but confirmed, 
 and by the act of confirmation the previous uncanonical act was 
 made canonical. But here we may observe that all the ancient 
 heretics had, in some sense, the Apostolical succession : they had 
 Bishops, though not canonical ones. To this, however, it is replied 
 that heretical orders were never regarded as valid. In short, the 
 whole Subject is a difficult one. Some divines make a distinction 
 between lay and unaict/!o?'ised baptism — lay baptism when the 
 Bishop sanctions it being accounted valid, but Dissenting baptism, 
 not having secured the episcopal sanction, invalid. The Church 
 in this country, from the period of the Reformation, and indeed 
 before that time, till the reign of James I., undoubtedly sanctioned 
 lay baptism by licensing midwives to baptize. When that rubric 
 was altered and we were directed to send for a minister, it would 
 seem to decide that it ought to be a ministerial act. I remember 
 two strong instances in the primitive Church on the other side. 
 St. Athanasius was baptized by his playfellows in sport, and this 
 baptism was deemed sufficient ; and so was that of an actor who 
 was baptized in the regular form on the stage in a play written to 
 ridicule Christianity. 
 
 Being removed, from all my books I cannot enter more fully into 
 the subject, but you will see it incidentally discussed in Dr. Pusey's 
 admirable treatise on Holy Baptism, published among the Oxford 
 Tracts, to which I particularly invite your attention. You may 
 consult also on the one side Lawrence, on the ' Invalidity of Lay
 
 1 88 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1829- 
 
 , Baptism,' and on the other Bingham's ' Scholastic History of Lay 
 -Baptism.' As to the practical point, I am in the habit of telling 
 people that at least there is some doubt on the subject, and if they 
 received lay baptism, and are fearful on that account, I use the 
 • conditional form, ' If thou hast not been before baptized,' &c., as 
 found at the end of our Baptismal Service, and this is the course 
 pursued by the Bishops and clergy in Scotland when persons come 
 over to them from the Established Church. . . . You may depend 
 upon it that nothing is to be done in a parish without a patient 
 care of the schools. It is by patience only, a patient continuance 
 in well-doing, that you will be able to make your present situation 
 an agreeable one, always remembering that permanent comfort 
 and happiness are not intended for this world. Peace is the reward 
 of our labours here, in the world to come, purchased for us by our 
 Lord. You must also remember that you let many precious years 
 pass by, to say the least of it, in carelessness, for which you ought 
 to make up by humiliation, mortification, and other holy exercises. 
 If you have not strength of mind to do this for yourself, you ought 
 to pray that God may take the discipline of you into His own 
 hands — that He may so order things that your pride and vanity may 
 be mortified ; that while in His hands you are an instrument of 
 good you may not for a season witness the effects of your labours. 
 To a man who ought like you to seek for mortification, who ought 
 to take the lowest seat at the heavenly banquet, I should say that 
 your present situation because unpleasant is a very proper one. 
 And perhaps it may be well after a week of such fasting and 
 prayer to ask earnestly and seriously why it is unpleasant. 
 Seek not ihepretext but the real reason of your present discontent. 
 Particularly be sure that vanity, pride, presumption have nothing 
 to do with it. I mention these faults as being those of young men 
 very frequently which can easily be masked by an appearance of 
 religious zeal. 
 
 I sincerely hope, as you say, that the cause of Catholicism is 
 prospering everywhere, though I am inclined to take a less san- 
 guine view of our present position than you do. As to Dissenters 
 I literally know nothing of them. You speak of a schism among 
 ihe Methodists. I am sorry to hear of it; for all schisms, even 
 schisms among schismatics, engender bad feelings. Sure I am 
 that we shall not profit by any such evil deeds. Those who quit 
 Dissenting congregations are far more likely to turn infidels than 
 •-Churchmen, A true Churchman will feci that to him a high trust
 
 -i837 Letters, 1 829-1 836. 189' 
 
 is committed, viz. the preservation of God's truth. It may be that- 
 in maintaining God's truth he may have to fight single-handed, 
 against a multitude. Still he vi'ill be unmoved. In God's good 
 time His Holy Spirit will bring over the people to the side of His 
 truth, and till that time comes we must keep our souls in patience. 
 One of the worst things a man can do is to try and make con- 
 verts ; one of the next to attack Dissenters, or to have anything, 
 whatever to do with them. Keep aloof from Dissenters as persons 
 of a different rehgion, and try to build up the two or three God 
 sends to you in the principles of the Holy Catholic Church. 
 
 To his Wife duri^tg a Tour iti the Autumn 0/18^6 with a Lady 
 and Gentlema7i i7i the NortJi of England. 
 
 I was amused with something Mrs. B. told me on the way, 
 which accounts for a veiy warm reception I met with at the inn at 
 Matlock. The landlord's daughter there gazed on me with an 
 admiration which much perplexed me. The servants followed the- 
 mistress's example. I was removed to the best room in the inn,, 
 and eveiybody seemed delighted to serve me. They had caught 
 my name, and the fair daughter of the landlord said to Mrs. B., 
 ' Excuse me, ma'am, but I suppose Mr. Hook is the great Mr. 
 Hook.' ' Yes,' said Mrs. B. ' Ah ! ' said the fair Maid of the Inn, 
 * I have just been reading his beautiful work, " Gilbert Gurney.'" 
 'Oh !' quoth Mrs. B., Uhis Mr. Hook is nephew to that Mr. Hook;, 
 and though his works are very celebrated, they are of a different 
 kind ;' but, alas ! my friend confesses that the young lady was sadly 
 disappointed. 
 
 To a young Clergyman — Study and Dissenters. 
 
 Coventry : November 2, 1836. 
 
 My dear Friend, — I have just received your delightful and' 
 gratifying letter, and though I am rather overwhelmed with my 
 correspondence, having sometimes to write eight or nine letters in 
 a day, I shall always be glad to hear from you if you will kindly 
 permit me to take my own time for my answer. . . . There are- 
 two points in your letter to which I must now addixss myself. 
 
 It seems clear to me, in the first place, that you require some- 
 hard study ; something rather dry. If you were near a library,, 
 with plenty of time, I would mark out a course for you. As it is,. 
 I recommend you to read through Bingham's ' Antiquities,' to be-
 
 igo Life of Walter Far qithar Hook. 1829- 
 
 followed by Palmer's ' Origincs Liturgicee,' and then I would have 
 you go on with Jeremy Collier's ' Ecclesiastical History of England.' 
 By these means you will lay in a vast store of useful information ; 
 you will be giving to yourself a habit of study, and you will Overcome 
 a habit of self-indulgence which may creep on us even in our studies. 
 During the first seven years that I was in orders, I was a hard 
 student, and I used to rise at four o'clock in the morning. This, 
 perhaps, would not suit you ; but when you are at these studies, it 
 might be well to read standing, or in a part of the room far from 
 the fire. This keeps up attention, and is a little useful bodily 
 discipline. I agree with you as to what you say with respect to 
 works on personal devotion in your particular case. Your heart is 
 right, and what you now chiefly want is self-discipline. 
 
 In the next place, if the Methodists do attend church, and do 
 not attend meeting, they are clearly not Dissenters. The original 
 Methodists under Wesley were on very many points much to be 
 admired. Their doctrine of Perfection is good, and has been of 
 great use against the prevailing Calvinism of the day. I am afraid 
 that in my last I did not express myself quite clearly. What I 
 mean is this, that we ought to look with a single eye to the truth., 
 not to the filling of our churches, and decreasing Dissent or any- 
 thing else. What we are required as preachers to do is, to declare 
 all the counsel of God, reckless of consequences. If people take 
 offence, they must do so ; if not, then give God the praise. Our 
 business is to state fairly the tradition of the Church as it is pre- 
 served in our Ritual, Liturgy, and Articles (learned men go to the 
 fountain-head at once, the primitive Church), and then to prove 
 that the tradition of the Church is scriptural. We receive our 
 religion from the Church, \\q prove our religion from the Bible. 
 
 Your affectionate Friend. 
 
 I would advise you always to read with a pen in your hand, 
 noting down everj^thing remarkable in a common-place book. 
 
 To the Rev. T. H. Tragett — How to Refit a Church — Catechising. 
 
 Coventry : November 5, 1836. 
 
 . . . And now let me congratulate you on your parish — I wish 
 
 it were entirely your own, as it is unpleasant to depend on the life 
 
 of another ; I have often dreamed of retiring upon just such a 
 
 parish ; about 2,000 people. Yours is doubtless a holy ambition,
 
 -i837 Letters, 1 829-1 836. 191 
 
 to make your little parish a perfect model of what a parish ought 
 to be; such a parish I have in Utopia, and I will tell you what I 
 would do with it. If the walls of the church are strong, I would 
 ^ut it. I would beg of my friends and acquaintance till I obtained 
 200/. (if you should think of anything like this, come to me for 
 \l. \s.), I would then entirely refit the interior, having no pews, and 
 erecting in the chancel an open seat, like one of the stalls in a 
 cathedral, for my reading-pew. I would then obser\'e who were 
 regular attendants at church, and at Christmas give them a good 
 dinner. This would soon increase the congregation ; and why 
 should we not act thus ? Our Blessed Lord fed the five thousand 
 before He began to teach them ; and if we can bribe people to hear 
 us, they may afterwards stay without a bribe. But indeed, with 
 such a parish you might give them all a good dinner of roast beef 
 and plum-pudding for as much as two dinners to your equals 
 would cost ; and the surest way to men's hearts, as old Hammond 
 used to say, is down their throats ; and when you have their 
 hearts they will patiently hear you, while you endeavour to cure 
 their souls. As to the children, they are certainly the first and 
 grand consideration. You say you are a wretched catechist, but 
 the art of catechising does not, any more than that of reading and 
 writing, come by nature ; but to become a good catechist you 
 must catechise, and it is astonishing how rapid is the improvement, 
 both on the part of the catechiser and the catechised. And the 
 first boy or girl who smiles at any little pleasantry of which you 
 may be guilty, will deserve a reward, as giving proof that the 
 intellect is beginning to thaw. I have found it best to stick to the 
 Church Catechism, as by a little skill you can put questions from 
 all the books they may have learnt, without much forcing ; one 
 question leads to another. It is impossible, however, to draw too 
 largely on the bank of stupidity, and the same questions must 
 come perpetually over and over again. 
 
 From W. P. Wood, Esq., to ]p\ F. Hook— On the Death of his 
 hifaiit Boy. 
 
 Lincoln's Inn : December 23, 1836. 
 
 . . It is a great comfort to know that you are thus upheld in 
 
 the hour of need. Doubtless our God is a ' veiy present help in 
 
 trouble,' and it should be at once a confirmation of our faith and 
 
 an exhortation to abide in it when we see that so severe a dispcn-
 
 192 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1829- 
 
 sation can be softened and tempered to you both. I sometimes 
 ask myself under such trials, what would my situation be if I 
 believed not in a hereafter ? I am not at all surprised that the 
 heathen should have so often resorted to self-destruction. But tO' 
 the Christian the heaviest affliction is but a cloud, or at the most 
 but as a thick mist ; and if he cannot always see that God hath 
 ' set His bow in the cloud,' yet he knows that the hour of the power 
 of darkness is measured, while his hope is unbounded as eternity. 
 ' Heaviness may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morn- 
 ing.' . . . One sometimes feels it a happiness to be permitted to- 
 retire from the bustle of life under domestic affliction, though of 
 course such feelings must not be indulged beyond very moderate 
 limits, as we are readily tempted to sink into morbid indolence. 
 The daily labour we are called upon to perform seems mercifully- 
 ordered, in a world where death prevails, to tear away our minds 
 from too deep and overpowering a sorrow for the dead, and to- 
 divert them also from an appalling fear of death. The poor, who 
 have so much to contend with, find, I have no doubt, great relief 
 in the necessity of constant occupation. You will have a comfort, 
 which none but those of your vocation can enjoy, that while your 
 occupation will allay your sorrow, it will not tend to separate you 
 from God. For the great danger with men of other professions is 
 that they will tiy to bully their feelings by over-activity and bustle ; 
 and instead of casting their cares upon God, try to forget them^ 
 and in the experiment too frequently end by forgetting Him also.
 
 i837 TJie Election to Leeds. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE ELECTION TO THE VICARAGE OF LEEDS. 
 A.D. 1837. 
 
 In the year 1836 I\Ir. William Page Wood and his wife paid a 
 visit to the Vicar of Trinity at Coventry. Soon after their 
 return to London they were invited by Dr. Williamson, the 
 Head Master of Westminster School, to meet a Barrister from 
 Leeds, Mr. Robert Hall, who had recently taken a house in 
 Dean's Yard, where they also at that time resided. When the 
 day for dining at Dr. Williamson's arrived, INIr. Wood was 
 unable, owing to a feverish cold, to fulfil his engagement, and 
 his wife was very unwilling to leave him, but knowing that 
 ladies would be wanted to make up the party, she thought it 
 would be selfish to decline at the last moment. At dinner she 
 sat next to Mr. Hall. He was not only an agreeable and able 
 man, who had taken first class honours at Oxford, but a zealous 
 Churchman, and he therefore listened with interest to an 
 account which Mrs. Wood gave of the great and good work 
 which had been, and was being, done by her husband's friend 
 at Coventry. To this conversation, so accidental, as it would 
 be carelessly called, so nearly being missed owing to the reluc- 
 tance of one of the parties to leave home on that particular 
 evening, the appointment of Mr. Hook to the Vicarage of Leeds 
 was, under God, primarily due, so that to the end of his life he 
 was accustomed to call Mrs. Wood his 'patroness'; and that 
 the wife of his deeply beloved friend should have been un- 
 consciously instrumental in sending him to the place where he 
 
 O
 
 194 ^i/"^ of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1837 
 
 did his greatest work and won his greatest fame, was a circum- 
 stance on which he reflected with delight to the end of his hfe. 
 In January 1837, a few months after the meeting just 
 mentioned with Mr. Hall, the Vicar of Leeds, Dr. Fawcett, 
 somewhat suddenly died. The patronage of the living is 
 vested in twenty-five trustees. The senior trustee at that time 
 was Mr. Henry Hall, father of Mr. Robert Hall, who also himself 
 was a junior member of the body. No sooner had Mr. Robert 
 Hall heard of the death of Dr. Fawcett than his mind reverted 
 to the description which he had heard of the hard-working 
 Vicar of Coventry. He is the man for Leeds, thought Mr. 
 Hall, if he is all that he has been represented to be. So he 
 instantly hastened to Coventry, verified by private enquiry and 
 observation the account which he had received of the man and 
 his work, and on his return called upon Mr. Wood to tell him 
 that if his friend would become a candidate for the vacant 
 living he would do his utmost to secure his election. But he 
 added that great opposition must be expected, as Mr. Hook 
 belonged to a school in the Church totally different in thought, 
 feeling, and practice from any which prevailed in Leeds — a 
 school, moreover, which at that time, owing to its supposed 
 connexion with the ' Oxford movement,' was regarded with 
 peculiar suspicion. Mr. Hall, therefore, was anxious that no 
 time should be lost in ascertaining whether he would consent to 
 be a candidate for the living, in order that the largest possible 
 number of testimonials might be got together from persons re- 
 presenting various shades of opinion in the Church. How the 
 application was made and received will be seen from the follow- 
 ing letter to Mr. Wood. The absence of Mrs. Hook, who was 
 staying with her mother, increased the difficulty of coming to 
 an immediate decision. 
 
 Coventry : February 22, 1837. 
 My dearest Friend, . . . On Sunday I received, quite unex- 
 pectedly, from Oxford a letter stating that I had been recommended 
 in several quarters to the trustees of the Vicarage of Leeds, and 
 that the trustees wished to ascertain through my kind friend Dr. 
 Barnes, Sub-dean of Christ Church whether, if the living were
 
 1837 The Election to Leeds. 195 
 
 offered to me, I would accept it. It is a great calamity to be sepa- 
 rated from Delicia at such a moment ; but, in order that we mig^ht 
 communicate with one another by letter, I took two or three days 
 to consider the business, and I have now written to say that it 
 offered the appointment I would accept it, but that I should decline 
 presenting myself as a candidate, or adopting any steps for pro- 
 curing it. My rule has been this, not to shrink from any duties to 
 which I may be providentially called, having full reliance on the 
 grace of my Saviour ; on the other hand, in humble distrust of 
 myself, not to seek any responsible office. Delicia tells me that, if 
 our family increase, we cannot go on long as we now do, and that 
 ii her health fail we have not the means of educating our children 
 according to their condition ; I see, too, that her anxiety lest we 
 should not be able to make the two ends of the year meet is 
 weighing on her health and spirits ; so that I think I am justified 
 in the step I have taken. Leeds is valued at 1,257/., the average 
 of three years before the last Parliamentary returns. If I do not 
 obtain the appointment, my pride will be mortified, a very good 
 thing ; I was not aware of the existence of the evil passion in me 
 till, on self-examination, I found that my chief wish to obtain the 
 living is to prevent the mortification : it will be a good Lent exer- 
 cise therefore. If I get it it will be sad not only to quit a people 
 whom I love, and by whom I am loved, but to leave many kind 
 friends ; and not least, to move far away from those still loved 
 remains which are deposited in Trinity Church. From you and 
 yours, to be removed 190 miles, will be like banishment ; I confess 
 that the objections were so strong on my mind that I had fully 
 determined to refuse the thing out and out, but Delicia, together 
 with her mother and sister, urged the thing upon me, and I have 
 done as I have said. I am sore perplexed ; I dread the thing. 
 Did I ever tell you that the Bishop of Worcester told our friend. 
 Lord Eastnor, that there were two livings likely to be soon vacant, 
 to the first of which he would present me ? St. Philip's, Birming- 
 ham, is one, the other I do not know ; I should like to wait for 
 these birds in the bush, for at my time of life, just forty, I do not 
 like breaking new ground. 
 
 The conflict of arguments and feelings in his own mind was so 
 great that from the first he declared to his wife the decision 
 must rest with her, not with himself. 
 
 I have, really and honestly speaking (he writes to heron March 2), 
 o 2
 
 196 Life of Walter Farq^ihar Hook. 1837 
 
 no wish upon the subject. The worldly considerations weigh net 
 with me in the least. The only thing that makes me hesitate 
 to say no is this — there is no Church feeling, no Catholic feeling, 
 as I am informed, in that part of the country. People there do not 
 know what the Catholic Church is, and if I may be honoured as 
 an instrument to introduce Catholicism there, as I have done here, 
 I should feel that I have not lived entirely in vain. Then on the 
 other hand we must remember that I should probably have a bad 
 successor here : * one who would undo all that I have been doing 
 during eight years of labour, so that when the one thing is weighed 
 against the other I think I should not be induced on these grounds 
 to make the change. You now know my feelings on the subject : 
 yours, I repeat, must lead to the decision, for it is mere matter of 
 feeling, not of duty. 
 
 His wife and her mother were in favour of his consenting tO' 
 become a candidate, and so one step was gained. But the in- 
 flexible resolution of the candidate on another point threatened 
 to be a formidable, if not fatal, obstacle to further progress. 
 He flatly refused to go to Leeds to present himself to the 
 trustees ; still less would he consent to preach a ' trial sermon,' 
 or to canvass on his behalf, as most of the other candidates had 
 done. Here was a dilemma which at first caused no small 
 vexation and perplexity to Mr. Robert Hall and his father 
 and some of the other trustees whom he had inspired with an 
 enthusiastic desire equal to his own for the election of his 
 candidate. Mr. Wood, however, suggested as a solution of the 
 difiiculty that some of the trustees should go to Coventry 
 unknown to the Vicar, and he promised that he would not give 
 his friend any intimation of their visit. Some old people in 
 Coventry can remember the curiosity w'hich was excited on. 
 Sunday, March 12, 1837, by the appearance in Trinity Church 
 of six strange gentlemen at the morning and evening services, 
 who had requested that they might be placed together in a 
 position favourable for hearing the reading and preaching of 
 the Vicar. Who they were and what they heard will be learned 
 from the following letter, written by the Vicar the day after to- 
 I^Ir. Wood : 
 
 ' The Wliig Ministry being then in office.
 
 5837 The Election to Leeds. 197 
 
 Coventry : March 13, 1837. 
 
 ]\Iy dearest Friend, — Weaned with the labours of yesterday I 
 cannot write con spirito, but still I must make you acquainted with 
 the state of affairs. Yesterday Coventry was filled with trustees, 
 Hall, Becket, Gott, Banks, Tennant, and one from the enemies' 
 camp, Atkinson, to spy out the nakedness of the land. 
 
 They all in the morning spoke to me of what would happen if I 
 went to Leeds ; in the evening it was ' when you go to Leeds.' Mr. 
 Gott said, ' I suppose you must be aware that many of the trustees 
 are favourable to you.' ' Pooh, nonsense,' quoth Mr. Banks, 'you 
 have the very large majority.' The prudent Mr. Hall, however, 
 only reckons on twelve. But we were talking of Dr. Thorpe, and 
 Sheepshanks was saying something not quite complimentaiy, when 
 Mr. H. said, 'We will say nothing about that, as we mean him to 
 vote for us, but he is not one of the twelve certain.' 
 
 I verily believe that the sermon I delivered in the evening I 
 wrote under the special direction of God ; it was written quite cx- 
 iempo7'e and in a hurry on the Saturday, but if I had laboured to 
 preach at the trustees I could not have done so well. You know I 
 am preaching on St. Matthew's Gospel, and the text that came to 
 me was Matthew xxiii. 8, 9, 10, when I was naturally led to explain 
 in a simple manner the impropriety of choosing for an authority in 
 religion either the Pope or a Protestant Reformer, and how we took 
 for our guidance, in doubtful points, the customs of the first Churches. 
 This explained to my friendly trustees (though I did not in the least 
 expect to see them) my views as they are, and not as they are mis- 
 represented. I then branched off into a discourse on justification by 
 faith, making the law our rule of righteousness, but not our means of 
 justification, in a manner that could not but appease the fears of my 
 opposing visitor. One of the trustees, Mr. Gott, who seemed very 
 much impressed with the sermon, and asked me to lend it, which I 
 thought better to decline, said to Sheepshanks, ' That sermon ought 
 to be published.' ' Oh,' exclaimed my enthusiastic partisan, 'if you 
 think that, everj'^ sermon preached every Sunday evening ought to 
 be published ; this is by no means the best we hear here.' Dear good 
 Sheepshanks is almost mad with zeal. With Mr. Atkinson I had some 
 conversation in the vestry ; of course I could not give him entire 
 satisfaction, but he was more favourably impressed than he had been 
 before ; I assured him I did not hold the doctrine of Transubstan- 
 tiation. He is a nice, pleasant, well-informed man; I told him that 
 I would not discuss, but I was fully convinced of the truth of my prin-
 
 1 98 Life of Walter Far quhar Hook. 1837 
 
 ciples, and would answer him any questions he might like to ask. 
 He cross-examined me, but in a pleasant, gentlemanlike style. 
 
 The reader will perceive from the foregoing letter that, how- 
 ever puzzled some members of the congregation at Holy Trinity 
 may have been by the visit to their church of six inquisitive 
 strangers, the Vicar himself was not ecjually taken by surprise. 
 The fact was, that four out of the six trustees had called upon 
 him the night before, not however so much to make known the 
 purpose of their coming to Coventry, as to entreat that he 
 would consent to go to Leeds for a few days, not to preach, 
 not to canvass, but merely to be seen. Mr. Hall, indeed, had 
 written to the same effect a few days before : ' The wish to hear 
 you preach is given up. I find that the opinion is gaining 
 ground that it is improper for a man to get up into a jjulint for 
 the purpose of preaching not Christ crucified, but himself and 
 his preferment. There is, however, a strong wish to see you : 
 some of the trustees have declared their determination not to 
 vote for a man they have never seen.' 
 
 To these solicitations, which were backed by his uncle, 
 Archdeacon Hamilton, and Mr. Wood, he yielded, and writes 
 to the latter that he has accepted the invitation to be the guest, 
 for two days, of Mr. Henry Hall, the senior trustee, ' to exhibit 
 my fat carcass at Leeds; and I certainly look what the people 
 here call jolly.' But the prospect of the tremendous responsi- 
 bilities which would fall upon him in the event of his election 
 deterred him from any enthusiasm in his own cause. ' I felt 
 interested in my success,' he writes, ' as I should do in that of 
 the respectable Mr. Richard Roe or John Doe if they were 
 engaged in a contest, and I was of their counsel. But when I 
 think of the thing itself or the pang of parting with old friends, 
 and the annoyance of breaking up new ground, my heart 
 becomes sick, and I ask why I consented to embark in this 
 affair.' 
 
 Meanwhile, those who were eager for his success had col- 
 lected a mass of testimony in his favour from very various 
 sources, in order to prove that he was respected and admired
 
 1837 The Election to Leeds. 199 
 
 not by one school or party only in the Church, but by many, 
 and had 'won golden opinions from all sorts of people.' 
 
 At the request of his friends he asked Sir Robert Peel 
 whether the letter which he had written in answer to an appeal 
 on behalf of the Religious and Useful Knowledge Society ^ 
 might be used as a testimonial. To this he received the 
 following reply. It was one of the few testimonials for which 
 he made personal application, and was probably one of the 
 most telling. 
 
 Whitehall : March i, 1837. 
 Sir, — You have my full permission to make whatever use you 
 please of the letter to which you refer. It contains a sincere and 
 disinterested testimony to your character and acquirements, from 
 one who has not the pleasure of your personal acquaintance, and 
 who had no conceivable motive for bearing that testimony, except- 
 ing the firm impression that you had, as a preacher and minister of 
 religion, essentially served the cause of religion and of charity, in 
 two great manufacturing towns, and under circumstances of no 
 ordinary difficulty, by a rare combination of ability, firmness, and 
 devotion to the duties of your spiritual office. 
 
 I am Sir, with much respect, your faithful Servant, 
 
 Robert Peel. 
 
 One of the warmest testimonials was from the Bishop of 
 Lichfield, Dr. Butler, formerly Head Master of Shrewsbury, a 
 man of critical mind, and not addicted to lavish praise. 
 
 As a parochial minister he is considered an example, not only 
 in the district to which he belongs, but far beyond it, of what an 
 indefatigable, pious, and strictly conscientious clergyman ought to 
 be. His immense church at Coventry I have witnessed full to 
 overflowing. He has inspired into that large parish under his care, 
 containing about 10,000 inhabitants, quite a new life ; and the ex- 
 ample has widely .spread through the city, which is becoming full 
 of attachment to the Church, though previously remarkable for 
 Dissent. I may appear to have written strongly, but I am quite 
 sure I have written only the truth, and I ought to say that in poli- 
 tical opinions Mr. Hook and I do not perfectly agree; you may 
 ^ Quoted above-, p. 126.
 
 200 JJfc of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1837 
 
 therefore feel assured that I have not been influenced in my testi- 
 mony by any party feeling. 
 
 Mr. Le Bas pronounced him to be 'the fittest man in 
 England to preside over such a parish as Leeds. Let Coventry 
 and Birmingham be appealed to. If the former place is silent 
 it would only be because it could not raise its voice without 
 danger of losing the spiritual guide who has bowed the hearts 
 of his congregation towards him as the heart of one man.' 
 
 Mr. Keble wrote : 
 
 I was acquahited with Mr. Hook when he was an undergraduate 
 at Christ Church, and I bcHeve that his conduct was then as blame- 
 less and excniplaiy as his heart was unquestionably always open 
 and generous. Since that time I have not often met him, but I 
 have read his publications, and I should say that for eloquent per- 
 suasiveness and soundness of principle, they certainly rank among 
 the first of the age, to say nothing of the rare theological learning 
 which they exhibit. As a preacher I need only refer you to the fact 
 that no one draws such crowded congregations among the young 
 men of Oxford : no bad test, perhaps, of the qualities which make a 
 person effective in that duty. 
 
 A large number of the clergy in Coventry and the neigh- 
 bourhood signed an earnest declaration of their affection and 
 esteem. 'We have witnessed in him,' they said, 'a combina- 
 tion of ability, zeal, and spiritual-mindedness in the discharge 
 of his parochial duties such as is seldom met with, and we see 
 the fruits of it in a very greatly increased and increasing attend- 
 ance in his parish upon public worship and the Lord's Supper. 
 The younger portion of us have looked up to him in every 
 duty as an exemplar, and in every difficulty as a kind and 
 faithful guide ; and those amongst us who are his contemporaries 
 or his seniors have beheld with heartfelt respect and approba- 
 tion his apostolic zeal for his Master's glory.' This collective 
 testimony from the clergy was clenched by a private letter to 
 the trustees from his great friend Mr. Tragett, who had held a 
 cure in Coventry. 'The clergy,' he writes, 'of the city of 
 Coventry and its extensive neighbourhood looked up to him as 
 their head and chief ; and his learning, wisdom, and discretion
 
 3837 The Election to Leeds. 201 
 
 formed the bond of union and zealous co-operation by which 
 Ave were all enabled to act in harmony amongst ourselves, and 
 to the general benefit of the community.' 
 
 Such are a few specimens out of a great multitude of testi- 
 monials which poured in thick and fast from persons of various 
 positions in the Church. 
 
 There was one enthusiastic partisan, however, whose zealous 
 activity occasioned some anxiety and annoyance to him for 
 whose benefit it was intended. Mr. Theodore Hook an- 
 nounced his intention of writing to Sir John Beckett, who 
 had great influence in Leeds, on behalf of his nephew. The 
 nephew deprecated the application, and suggested that it should 
 at least be made through Mr. Croker, a common friend, rather 
 than directly by Mr. Theodore Hook himself But the uncle 
 Avas not to be thwarted, and replied to the remonstrance in the 
 following characteristic letter :— 
 
 I dare say I have done wrong — I don't care if I have. I am 
 sure I haven't done harm. I really don't see why / should not 
 write to Sir John, or why I should ask Croker to ask him. I do 
 their jobs : why the deuce should they not do mine ? It is not as 
 if I asked them to prop up a stupid, ill-conditioned cur, because 
 he happened to be my relation. It is /who do them a favour in 
 giving them the opportunity of getting such a clergyman. If you 
 are angrj^, I can't help it. I will have my own way, so I don't care. 
 . . . Come now, none of your nonsense — don't be angry and look 
 cross ; the mouse may do good to the lion. 
 
 The last clause in this letter indicates the humble respect 
 and almost reverence with which the celebrated humourist 
 regarded his clerical nephew. His warm-hearted and generous 
 disposition was susceptible of religious feelings, and capable of 
 admiring in others that strength of moral purpose which was 
 unhappily too much lacking in himself 
 
 The supporters of Mr. Hook had good reason for making 
 very strenuous efforts on his behalf In the first place there 
 were many competitors, the most formidable being Mr. 
 Molesworth and Mr. Hugh Stowell, and they had been present 
 in the town and had preached in some of the churches long
 
 202 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1837 
 
 before Mr. Hook had been brought forward as a candidate. 
 The election was to take place on March 20, and it was not 
 till the beginning of March that his name appeared in the 
 published lists of candidates. And then a fierce storm of 
 opposition burst forth, and every effort was made to prejudice 
 and alarm the electors. The ' Record ' wrote in an agony of 
 fear, and sought to persuade the religious world that he was a 
 very monster of Tractarian inicjuity. ' He professed that kind 
 of modified popery with which the "Tracts for the Times" 
 were filled. For his fierce bigotry and intolerance he could be 
 compared only with Laud : he consigned all Dissenters to the 
 uncovenanted mercies of God, and denied the right of private 
 judgment, which the " Record " considered the fundamental 
 principle of the Reformation. A Jesuit in disguise could not do 
 more mischief to the Establishment than one who in spirit and 
 doctrine seemed as if he had been brought up within the Holy 
 Inquisition.' In short, it would be impossible to imagine an 
 appointment more fraught with disaster to Leeds and to the 
 Church of England. 
 
 These pleasant remarks in the 'Record ' were followed by 
 a sharp attack in the ' Christian Observer,' directed against his 
 statements in two of his Oxford sermons on the value of 
 Catholic tradition and the authority of the Church. Feeble as 
 the criticism was, his supporters dreaded the effect it might 
 produce on the minds of some of the trustees, especially as it 
 insinuated that his views were identical with those expressed 
 in the 'Tracts for the Times,' and it was thought expe- 
 dient that Mr. Wood should address a letter to one of the 
 Trustees, exposing the fallacies and misrepresentations of the 
 article. 
 
 As the time for the ekction drew nearer, the strife of parties 
 in Leeds waxed very hot. The papers were filled with all kinds 
 of statements, true and false, concerning the candidates, and 
 the trustees were inundated with letters, many of them anony- 
 mous, until it was not easy to keep their heads clear or their 
 tempers cool. Those who were known to be favourable to 
 Mr. Hook, especially Mr. Robert Hall, were subjected to
 
 1837 The E lee lion to Leeds. 203 
 
 inquisitorial examinations respecting his character and opinions, 
 by the evangelical leaders in Leeds. Mr. Hall in one of his 
 letters gives a specimen of a cross-questioning which he 
 endured. What were Mr. Hook's opinions on baptismal 
 regeneration ? Did he preach the necessity of a converted 
 heart ? Did he make justification and santification prominent 
 points in his preaching, or did he merely concede them? 
 Did he support the Church Missionary Society ? Was he of 
 holy life and conversation ? Of course he did not play cards 
 or countenance gay amusements himself, but did he permit his 
 family to do so? and so on for nearly two hours, until Mr. 
 Hall's patience was fairly worn out, and he declined to be tor- 
 mented any longer, 
 
 Mr. Hook himself was so much distressed at having become 
 the occasion of contention and ill-will that about this time 
 he announced his intention of withdrawing from the contest. 
 
 His friends, however, unanimously insisted on his retracting 
 this decision. ' We must, if possible,' wrote Mr. Robert Hall, 
 ' have the best man in the kingdom for Vicar of Leeds : you 
 must therefore suffer me for the present to consider you as not 
 having retired from the contest' And Mr. Henry Hall wrote 
 to the same effect. 
 
 Not long after this, in compliance with the request of the 
 deputation which went to Coventry, Mr. Hook paid his visit to 
 Leeds, and on Wednesday, March 15, he was introduced to 
 the trustees at their weekly meeting in the vestry of the 
 parish church. The following letters refer to the event : — 
 
 First visit to Leeds — Macliinatioris of the Hostile Party. 
 
 My dearest Friend, — I send just one line to say that I have re- 
 turned from my northern expedition in good case. I wish I had 
 gone to Leeds before, for my mind is now quite at ease. If I am 
 to stay here, the comfort, a little quiet, and the regular routine of 
 my duties, will be delightful ; if I am to go to Leeds, now that I 
 have reconnoitred the country, I know that I shall not enter upon 
 duties for which I am wholly disqualified. I feel quite up to the 
 work, by God's grace ; depending on the Divine assistance, I shall 
 embark in it, if at all, with vigour and confidence. We arrived, as
 
 204 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1837 
 
 Hall will have told you, on Tuesday. On Wednesday morning I 
 saw most of the clergy, all of whom but two are on my side, and 
 one of whom had generously drawn up a vindication of my doc- 
 trines. I stated to the trustees that I had come to Leeds at the 
 request of certain of their body, not to canvass, but to be able at once 
 to deny certain charges, if brought against me. To avoid all appear- 
 ance of canvassing I left the town on the Wednesday evening. The 
 ■clergy seemed to think me their Vicar, who is spoken of as some- 
 body next in importance, if not to the king, at least to his prime 
 minister. Several trustees told me that I might consider myself as 
 ■elected; even Hall seems to be in good cheer; but I know the 
 party I have to deal with too well to feel anything like confidence. 
 They have to meet on Wednesday for the purpose of memorialising 
 the trustees against me ; they have represented me, as I suppose 
 you have heard, not only as a Papist, but as a drunkard, a gambler, 
 &c., &c. How I bless God that He has given me a heart that never 
 bears malice or hatred ; irritated I may sometimes be, but these 
 kind of things do not irritate me. I have many, very many diffi- 
 culties to contend with from a nature desperately wicked ; but this 
 is one of my advantages, that I scarcely notice and immediately 
 forget injuries. I should think that my best chance is, that the 
 ■opposite party have no distinguished person to bring forward ; and 
 the town clergy very properly say that, if they are passed over, they 
 ought, at least, to have put over them a man of eminence ; and 
 such, I presume, from the abuse heaped on me, they suppose me to 
 be. I suppose you have seen Stowell's letter following the attack 
 upon me in the ' Record.' I told the trustees that I should regard 
 an attack in the ' Record ' in the light of a testimonial. I was told 
 that some of the opponents threatened to withdraw their accounts 
 from Beckett's bank, if they voted for me. Since writing this, the 
 Coventiy paper has come in ; by whom the Leeds paragraph was 
 written I know not, I suspect Sheepshanks. I am deeply gratified 
 by the conduct of the people here ; they are all anxious for my 
 welfare, and yet sorry to part with me. Is not this nice and kind 
 and generous ? This, too, will render my remaining here the more 
 •comfortable, especially as they will know that it is only party violence 
 that will exclude me. 
 
 From Mrs. Hook to Mr. and Mrs. Wood. 
 
 Coventry : 1837. 
 My dear Friends, — I received your letter during my solitude,
 
 1837 The Election to Leeds. 205 
 
 and was quite comforted by it. Though I felt desperately anxious 
 all the time the old boy was away, yet he is come back so well, so 
 pleased, so frisky, and so tiresome, that I can hardly write a word 
 for his coming and making impertinent remarks. His account of 
 Leeds is satisfactory, and I feel that as a home it will be pleasant, 
 though its distance from London must be a drawback. I suppose 
 you will hear the result as soon as we do. I really cannot help 
 feeling anxious, in spite of my determination to think either way 
 the best. 
 
 There remained only three days between his departure 
 from Leeds and the 20th, the day appointed for the election, 
 and in this little interval the opposition fired their last and 
 largest gun. This was a petition to the trustees against his 
 appointment, signed by 400 persons. A copy of his letter to 
 the Bishop of Lichfield in 1830, deprecating his presiding at 
 a meeting of the Bible Society, was appended to the docu- 
 ment. The following is the memorial : — 
 
 To the Trustees of the Advowson of the Vicarage of Leeds. 
 
 We, the undersigned inhabitants of the parish of Leeds, and 
 members of the Established Church, beg leave respectfully ta 
 memorialiseyou upon the pending election to the vacant vicarage. 
 We have heard with considerable alarm that there is every pro- 
 bability that the Rev. W. F. Hook will obtain a majority of your 
 suffrages. We beg to submit to you our decided opinion that, on 
 account of the very peculiar tenets maintained and published by 
 that gentleman, such election will be attended with the most mis- 
 chievous consequences to the interests of the Establishment in 
 this parish. 
 
 The following are some of the doctrines which Mr. Hook avows 
 in his published works, and which we consider in the highest 
 degree objectionable. He denies the right of private judgment in 
 matters of religion. He maintains that Holy Scripture is an in- 
 sufficient guide to salvation ; and that no man ever did, and few 
 ever could, form their code of faith and morals from the Bible, and 
 the Bible only. He virtually excludes Methodists and Dissenters 
 nf every name from the pale of Christianity. He is the avowed 
 opponent of the British and Foreign Bible Society, and we have 
 reason to believe that he is unfriendly to the Church Missionary
 
 2o6 Life of Walter FarquJiar Hook. 1837 
 
 Society and to the Society for Promoting Christianity amongst 
 the Jews. He addressed an expostulatory letter to the Diocesan 
 of his present Incumbency upon the occasion of his taking the 
 chair at one of the meetings of the first, a copy of which we beg to 
 subjoin. 
 
 Your mcmoriahsts observ^e, with unfeigned satisfaction, a 
 growing disposition in the members of the Church of England, 
 in this parish, to unite, as in a common cause, in the advancement 
 of its interests. They beg respectfully, but firmly, to avow their 
 conviction that the immediate efi'ect of Mr. Hook's election will be 
 to interrupt this holy harmony, by reviving those irritating dis- 
 cussions, the existence of which between her members has so long 
 been the subject of regret with eveiy true friend of the Church ; 
 thereby not only to open again that division within her own bosom 
 which they had hoped would soon have been altogether obliterated, 
 but ultimately to widen it into a hopeless and incurable schism. 
 It is also obsei-vable, and your memorialists allude to the fact with 
 the utmost pleasure, that the asperities of other classes of Christians 
 in the parish against our Church ha\-e of late been considerably 
 modified and softened down, and that many among them are 
 disposed to listen to the strong arguments which may be adduced 
 in her favour, and to attend upon her services. The effect of the 
 election of a clerg^mian of Mr. Hook's avowed opinions upon such 
 persons is sufficiently obvious. Having only been attracted thither 
 by the prevalence of sentiments diametrically opposed to his, they 
 will with proportionate force be repelled, and finally estranged, 
 from her communion. 
 
 We do not wish to go too minutely into matters of objection ; 
 still less do we desire to take an offensive attitude, or do anything 
 that may wear the appearance of dictation. We disclaim all 
 motives save those arising from what we believe to be a Christian 
 duty. It is in this spirit that we would respectfully call upon you 
 to consider the appointment about to be made, not merely as one 
 of taste or expediency, not as one of personal feeling, but as one 
 involving the everlasting welfare of souls. We would venture to 
 add that your office was instituted for the benefit of the inhabitants ; 
 and we earnestly hope and pray that you may so fulfil it as to pro- 
 mote the paramount object which we trust we all have in view. 
 
 This memorial, however, was instantly followed by a counter- 
 declaration signed by about 300 persons.
 
 1 837 The Election to Leeds. 207 
 
 To the Ti'itstccs of the Advoiuson of the Vicarage of Leeds. 
 
 March 17, 1837. 
 We, the undersigned frequenters of the Parish Church, and 
 other friends of the Establishment generally, beg leave respect- 
 fully to address you on the subject of certain recent measures 
 which have been taken to influence, if not to coerce, your choice 
 of a Vicar for this extensive parish. We wish to express to you 
 that we have viewed the proceeding with considerable regret ; and 
 that we utterly disclaim and disavow any participation in it. We 
 sincerely trust that in the execution of your high duty you will set 
 aside all such representations ; and we can assure you that we 
 rest with the most perfect confidence in the rectitude ol your judg- 
 ment, and in your well-known and long-tried attachment to the 
 doctrines and principles of the Church of England. 
 
 On Monday, March 20, the trustees assembled in the 
 vestry for the purpose of election. All were present except 
 Mr. John Hardy and Mr. Peter Rhodes. Each wrote his own 
 name on one side of a card, and on the other the name of the 
 candidate for whom he voted. One of the trustees collected 
 the cards, the sides on which the names of the electors were 
 written being uppermost. "When handed to the chairman they 
 were reversed, so that he saw the names of the candidates only. 
 Having examined the cards, the chairman, Mr. Henry Hall, 
 said that the Rev. W. F. Hook was elected by sixteen trustees 
 out of twenty-three. He then went into the choir and 
 announced the result of the election to a large crowd of 
 parishioners. He declared that the trustees had been in- 
 fluenced by the purest motives, and deprecated a hasty judg- 
 ment of their choice. They had sought, and believed that 
 they had found, a man of piety and learning, of amiable 
 disposition and literary attainments : one who in the late 
 scene of his labours had been indefatigable in ministering to 
 the wants, spiritual and temporal, of all his parishioners. 
 
 The announcement and address was received by the 
 assembly with much applause, only mingled with a few mur- 
 murs and faint cries of 'Stowell.' The church bells rang out a
 
 2o8 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1837 
 
 joyful peal, and Mr. Henry Hall started with a full heart to 
 carry the good news to Coventry. 
 
 How the recipient of the tidings was affected will best be 
 gathered from the letters placed at the end of this chapter. 
 
 The feelings of his old parishioners were well expressed in 
 one of the principal local journals. 
 
 It is with mingled feelings of triumph and regret (wrote 
 the ' Coventry Standard ' ) that we announce that the Rev. W, 
 F. Hook was on Monday last elected Vicar of Leeds by a very 
 decided majority of the trustees. He will carry with him not only 
 the respect and good wishes, but the warm gratitude, the individual 
 personal affection, of a large portion of the inhabitants of this city, 
 both rich and poor ; and although his future lot be cast far away 
 from those among whom he has ministered for several years, yet 
 lie will ever live in their memories as a most zealous and inde- 
 fatigable minister, a judicious and affectionate friend. 
 
 This prediction has thus f^ir been verified. In the brief 
 but excellent sketch of his Hfc which appeared in the ' Parish 
 Magazine' of Trinity parish, Coventry, in November 1875, one 
 month after his death, the writer says : 'Thirty-eight years 
 have not effaced from the grateful minds of his old parishioners 
 the remembrance of their Vicar. A generation has indeed 
 grown up which knows him not, and yet his name is sa 
 familiar to us all that we find it difficult to realise the long lapse 
 of time since he was living and working in our parish. The 
 work he did in Coventry has been permanent and abiding ; . . . 
 it is almost impossible to over-estimate the manner in which 
 he quickened Church life.' These are not vain words. How 
 vividly he is remembered and how deeply honoured by the 
 aged, the writer of this memoir can testify, being under obliga- 
 tion to many who have been as eager to give information 
 concerning the work of their former pastor, as during his life- 
 time they were zealous to assist him in that work. The stained 
 glass in the great west window of their magnificent church is 
 the visible proof of the affection, gratitude, and respect of the 
 parishioners of Holy Trinity for that Vicar who, in the words of 
 one who preached on the occasion of the window being com-
 
 1 837 Vicar of Leeds. 209 
 
 pleted,^ 'undertook his ministry in days when earnestness in 
 Church Ufe was rare,' and where manifested ' was frequently re- 
 ■ceived with aversion if not with contempt': who, 'in much 
 difficulty, misapprehension, and misrepresentation, laid here the 
 sound foundation of Church principles, and commenced the 
 system of parochial administration which has become more and 
 more firmly established under his successors.' 
 
 He was instituted Vicar of Leeds on April 4, and the next 
 three months were occupied by the painful and harassing pro- 
 cess of severing his connexion with one place and forming it 
 with another. 
 
 On Sunday, the i6th, he 'read himself in.' His rich, 
 powerful, melodious voice produced its full effect upon the 
 musical ears of the northern people, and he had not proceeded 
 far in the prayers before a godly old Dissenter present was 
 heard to say, smiting his knee with his hand, ' He'll do ; he'll 
 do.' 
 
 On this Sunday he preached twice, enormous crowds being 
 present at both services. He was labouring under a heavy 
 cold, a very rare occurrence with him, and had difiiculty in 
 speaking so as to be heard, which was a great vexation to hiui 
 in the morning, as his sermon was mainly a declaration of his 
 principles, and of the line of conduct which his parishioners 
 were to expect from him. 
 
 You see before you (he said) a firm, determined, consistent, 
 uncompromising, devoted, but I hope not uncharitable, son, servant, 
 and minister of the honoured Church of England. It is as a 
 minister of the Church of England that I am placed here. I am 
 not placed here to indulge in speculations of my own as to what 
 / may think to be useful, or what / may think to be expedient — I 
 am instituted under the Bishop to administer the discipline, the 
 sacraments, and the doctrines of Christ as the Lord hath com- 
 manded, and as this Church and realm hath received the same. 
 I am to labour for the salvation of souls and the edification of the 
 Church, but not in ways and modes of my own devising, but 
 according to the laws, the regulations, the spirit of the English 
 Church. And immediately that I find that I cannot conscien- 
 ' Klv. II. W. Bc'Ilairs, June 24, 1877. 
 P
 
 2IO Life of Walter Far quhar Hook. 1837 
 
 tiously adhere to those rules and act in that spirit, I shall tender 
 my resignation to the Bishop, and feel myself bound, not only as a 
 Christian, but as a man of honour, to retire from a situation the 
 duties of which I am unable to discharge. The Church is not in- 
 fallible ; but as we find her now existing in this country I believe 
 her not to be in error, and my conduct shall always be regulated 
 by her authorised decisions. 
 
 After pointing out the value of tradition as elucidating 
 Scripture, and the supremacy of Scripture as the test of tradi- 
 tion ; after declaring his intention not to ' select one or two 
 doctrines, and, representing these as all-sufficient, to overlook in 
 carelessness or reject in rashness all the rest — for if this kind of 
 preaching would sufifice, why should the Bible be so thick a 
 book, or rather such a large collection of books? ' — after main- 
 taining that through an unbroken episcopal succession the 
 three Orders in the Church of England could satisfactorily 
 prove their commission to act as ambassadors of Christ and 
 stewards of the mysteries of God, — he concluded : 
 
 And in asserting this shall I give unnecessary offence to my 
 Dissenting friends, and many such I hope to have ? I say, No» 
 For my part I think better things of the candid, honest, conscien- 
 tious Dissenter. By vindicating the doctrine and discipline of the 
 Church of England I do indeed by implication assert that he is in 
 error. But does he not do the same by us .'' Does not he imply 
 that we are in error, when he secedes from our communion, or 
 refuses to conform to it ? This he must do if he would justify his 
 secession. And if he does think us in error, he will never find in 
 me one who will censure him for explaining to his hearers the 
 grounds of his dissent. However erroneous I may consider those 
 grounds, I shall ever contend that he is more than justified, that he 
 is bound to state them honestly and fairly to his people : only let 
 all things be done in charity, gentleness, and courtesy. What I 
 ask then for myself is no more than what I am fully prepared to 
 concede. . . . One of the great blessings of a full and free tolera- 
 tion is this : that we may now all of us contend fully and freely for 
 the truth, and the whole truth. As a lover of truth then I am a 
 friend to toleration. When the law assumed that all men were 
 Churchmen, and on that account compelled all men to attend the 
 service of the Church, the charitably disposed would, of course, be:
 
 1837 First Sermon at Leeds. 211 
 
 ready to sacrifice many portions of truth to satisfy the scruples of 
 weaker brethren. Now we are not required to make any such 
 sacrifices : we may now keep our eyes steadily fixed upon the 
 truth, and if any man think that the truth is not with us, he suffers 
 no hardship in withdrawing from us. And as a lover of peace, as 
 well as of truth, I thus openly, fairly, and honourably avow my prin- 
 ciples. Depend upon it we promote peace, not by falsifying facts, 
 and telling men that we do agree when we do not agree, for this 
 only leads to endless disputes, but by stating clearly and firmiy 
 what our differences are, and by then agreeing to differ thereon. 
 Those persons who thrust themselves into a promiscuous throng 
 are liable to inconveniences and quarrels : but draw a line 
 decidedly between disagreeing parties, and then over that line of 
 demarcation opposite parties may cordially shake hands. With 
 Dissenters, therefore, in religious matters I may not act, but most 
 readily will I number them among my private friends. Never in 
 my almsgiving will I make any distinction of persons : in such 
 cases Samaritan and Jew shall be both alike to me. I will say to 
 them, and I will not take offence if they retort the saying upon me, 
 that I think them in error : but every person who happens to 
 oppose what we hold as the truth is not of necessity a wilful 
 opposer of truth as such. Their love of truth may be as great as 
 ours. Onr principle, therefore, will be the same, though the appli- 
 cation of that principle may be different, and for our common prin- 
 ciple we may love and respect, while we may sometimes oppose, 
 each other. We must indeed all of us learn to forbear one another 
 and to forgive one another, even as Christ our blessed Redeemer, 
 who died for our sins and rose again for our justification, hath for- 
 given us. 
 
 By this bold and manly declaration of his principles, at the 
 outset of his career, he secured the respect of adversaries with 
 whom he might otherwise have been brought into unpleasant 
 collision. He adhered without wavering to the principles thus 
 early avowed, and was consequently saved from the misery 
 experienced by amiable but vacillating characters who seek to 
 conciliate and too often end in exasperating all. 
 
 The month of June was the last of his residence at Coventry. 
 A jjarting address in May, signed by thirty-three male and 
 thirty-two female teachers of the Sunday school, ended with 
 these touching words : 
 
 P2
 
 2 12 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1837 
 
 We cannot omit to congratulate you upon the success with 
 which your exertions have been crowned by the great increase in the 
 number of communicants, and the flourishing state of our schools ; 
 and at the same time to express our warmest thanks for the 
 spiritual instruction and consolation we have received from you as 
 our revered pastor and affectionate friend. That the blessing of 
 the Lord God Almighty may rest upon you and yours, that the 
 Spirit of Truth may guide you even to the end, and that you and 
 we likewise may be of that happy number who shall be blessed at 
 the coming of our Lord, is the hearty desire and humble prayer of 
 the teachers of Trinity Church Sunday School. 
 
 The Vicar ended his reply by saying : 
 
 My parting injunction to you is, Love the Church. You live 
 in evil days, when evil tongues are railing against all that is great 
 and good and holy in the land. May I always hear that the 
 teachers of these schools continue to be what they now are — loyal, 
 dutiful, zealous children of the dear old Church. May you grow in 
 grace as you grow in years. May you increase in faith and all the 
 fruits of faith, and to this end I exhort you to be earnest in prayer, 
 regular in your attendance on the duties of the sanctuary — frequent 
 communicants. Let us all persevere in this course, and then our 
 parting will not be an eternal one : we shall all meet before the 
 throne of God and of the Lamb, where those who meet meet to 
 part no more. You have often received my blessing, and you have 
 been taught to regard it as the blessing of one commissioned by 
 God to bless His people. With my blessing therefore I now con- 
 clude. The peace of God, (S:c. 
 
 On June 12 he preached his last sermon at Coventry. 
 There were not many dry eyes in the vast congregation when 
 in the well-known voice, unrivalled in sweetness and pathos, to 
 which his feelings on the occasion lent an additional tenderness, 
 he said : 
 
 And now I have finished my ministry in this parish. My 
 friends — for you are my friends, and, thanks be to God. I know 
 not an enemy in the parish— my friends, who have made so much 
 allowance for my many deliciencies, who have received so very 
 kindly the little good of which God in His mercy has used me as 
 the instrument ; my young friends whom I have trained in the way
 
 i837 Farewell to Coventry. 2 13 
 
 of truth ; teachers of the Sunday school, members of the vestry 
 (may you always continue to be as united a body as you have been 
 during the last nine years) ; you who have assisted me in visiting the 
 sick and needy ; you, with whom in your sorrows I have wept and 
 who in my sorrows have wept with me ; you whom I have been 
 the means of reconciling after disagreements ; my poorer brethren 
 whom I have ever held in honour ; iny elderly friends with whom 
 I have taken sweet counsel ; my Christian friends, whose sacrifice 
 of prayer and praise it has been my blessed duty to offer to the 
 throne of grace, whom through my ministry Christ has fed with the 
 bread of life — friends one and all — my prayer to you is, may God 
 deal kindly with you, as ye have dealt kindly with me and mine : 
 my exhortation is, those things which ye have learned and received 
 and heard of me do, and the God of peace shall be with you, for 
 you have heard of me, not my own conjectures, but the words of 
 truth as the Church has received them. 
 
 Capacious as is the church of the Holy Trinity, it could not 
 contain all the people who thronged to it on that Sunday even- 
 ing, and hundreds waited outside to give their Vicar a parting 
 shake of the hand, and to exchange a few farewell words. And 
 so he departed, full of zeal and energy, full of high aims and 
 aspirations, full of confidence, not in himself, but in the Master 
 whose he was and whom he served. The Evangelical party in 
 Leeds and throughout the country were dejected and appre- 
 hensive, but the ' Record,' writing more in sorrow than in anger, 
 counselled quiet resignation to the inevitable : they had done 
 all they could to prevent so calamitous an appointment, and 
 now that it was made in spite of them, it only remained for 
 them to pray that it might be overruled by God for the good of 
 His Church and the spiritual welfare of the great community at 
 Leeds. The gratitude of the Church is due to the 'Record ' 
 for recommending a prayer to which such an abundant answer 
 was vouchsafed. 
 
 To his Wife — A Day of Discomfort. 
 
 Coventry : February 23, 1837. 
 
 My dearest Love, — If you were in the dumps when you wrote I 
 shall be able to pay >'ou in kind. I have a cold, which always de-
 
 214 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1837 
 
 presses me. IMr. IMinster is out, and all those who help me in 
 visiting the sick are ill. Sixteen sick persons demand what I have 
 not physical strength to give, daily visiting. I have just returned, 
 completely wet through, iVom trudging all over the parish, after 
 having performed services, baptisms, and funerals. At the last the 
 pitiless storm drenched me. I think I should have been in des- 
 pair, if Russfield had not very kindly offered to visit some of the 
 people for me. I had come home, hoping for two hours' rest before 
 going to deliver my lecture ; but I have come to a fire nearly out, 
 and have letters to answer, not all of them the most agreeable. 
 Here is one from my mother, saying that Georgiana has been 
 seriously ill. I should certainly go over and see them, but, be- 
 sides my lecture to-night, I have a sermon for to-morrow, and three 
 in prospect for Sunday, for Woodward is engaged, and Sheep- 
 shanks is unwell. .' . . Here is also a letter from a Mr. Robert 
 Hall, another of the trustees, asking whether if I were appointed I 
 should consider it 'a call.' I shall answer him much in the 
 manner I answered Dr. Barnes. At my time of life, approachmg 
 forty, with a constitution of fifty, and nerves shattered with those 
 dreadful fits, it is natural to think twice before I determine to 
 break up entirely new ground. I had never thought of going north. 
 I had always expected to settle either in this neighbourhood or in 
 London. But I now heartily hope that we may obtain Leeds. I 
 foresee that if we remain here, the cares of a straitened income will 
 be fatal to our happiness. ... I do not expect to see you back 
 next week, for I am morally certain that you will soon quite break 
 up. You have undertaken more than you can get through. But I 
 will not go on in this melancholy strain. I am worried, over- 
 worked, chilled, and, in short, as you were when you wrote. By 
 the time you receive this I may be better. I am almost sorry I 
 let Minster go. / had not a single holiday the first four years I 
 was in orders. 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. — Self-examination. 
 
 Coventry : March lo, 1837. 
 
 My dearest Friend, — The questions put by his catechist to Mr. 
 
 HalP have sent me to the duty of self-examination. His catechist 
 
 is a right worthy man, such as my heart loves ; he has heard that I 
 
 am an ungodly wretch, and he wishes to prevent my doing mischief. 
 
 ' See above, p. 203.
 
 i837 Letters, March to April 1837. 215 
 
 Surely he is justified in this. I have carefully examined myself as 
 to the motives he attributes to me; I will tell you the result. 
 * Party-spirit ' : now I do confess that I find myself to be a little too 
 much influenced by that ; mine is a falling party, and I feel a little 
 complacent in adhering to it ; and I fear that I might do as the 
 worthy catechist has done, occasionally attribute a wrong motive to 
 another, in the heat of my zeal ; of this I repent, and by God's grace 
 will amend. But certainly party -zeal has not been for sixteen years my 
 motive, in labouring as I have laboured for Christ and His Church, 
 for if ever party-feelings are excited, they almost immediately cool, 
 and I feel sorry for any excesses of which I have been guilty. 
 However, the imputation of this motive to me, though incorrect, 
 shall make me very watchful for the future. 
 
 Next comes 'restlessness of temperament ; ' here I am certainly 
 not guilty, for indolence is the besetting sin of my natural man. 
 You know not how very loth I am to quit my easy chair, to go about 
 my Father's business in my parish : you cannot conceive the pain 
 it frequently is to me to act the prominent part I do in the clerical 
 affairs of the district. 
 
 ' Ambition ' : when I was ambitious, it was of literary fame, 
 which was the only fame 1 cared for ; to renounce all hopes of 
 literary distinction as I did, when I entered into orders, was pain 
 and grief to me, but I had grace to do it. As to professional 
 honours I value them not a rush ; were I desirous of them, I should 
 be much more likely to attain them by staying where I am, than by 
 seeking to go to Leeds. I am not insensible to the advantages of 
 station, but my sole wish for any advancement of that kind would 
 be not selfish, but to extend my usefulness, by giving greater weight 
 to any arguments among those of my younger brethren whom it is 
 my great delight to lead. You cannot imagine a person who cares 
 less for these things than I do. 
 
 'Vanity': on this point I have suspected myself, but certainly 
 my vanity would never lead me to any great exertions. I rather 
 pique myself on having formed a just estimate of my own powers, 
 and that is a very low one. I fall so infinitely short of what I intend 
 in all that I do, that 1 have never done anything without being 
 plunged into despondence ; and therefore a little praise instead of 
 puffing me up encourages me. It makes me feel that while I know 
 that 1 have failed, yet that 1 have not failed so entirely as I feared; 
 I dread disgrace more than I covet praise. Now in whatever 
 degree those faults may influence me, unknown to myself, we may
 
 2i6 Life of Walter Far qithm' Hook. 1837 
 
 easily find other motives for my sixteen years of labour. You know- 
 what my temper was in boyhood, and you know what it is now ; it 
 seems to me sometimes as if a miracle had been wrought in me,, 
 my temper has become so improved. People will not believe me 
 sometimes when I tell tliem how bad my temper was ; and they see 
 how well 1 am able to keep it under severe provocations. I have 
 had other passions in my time to contend with ; I had a ver)^ bad 
 soil to cultivate, but by the grace of God I am what I am, still a 
 sinful, alas ! my dear Wood, a ver)-, very sinful creature, but one 
 who has found grace, and who has grown in grace ; and when 
 I feel and know what great things the Saviour has done for me,, 
 I have only to ask you not to consider me as a brute beast, in 
 order to make you certain that I must be actuated by zeal for my 
 dear Master's service. Gratitude alone would inflame my love, and 
 love inflamed would urge an eager mind on to action. Indeed I 
 think at times that nothing but a regular education and a keen 
 sense of the ridiculous would keep me from fanaticism. Gratitude 
 to my God, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, is sufficient to in- 
 flame my love for Him, the Holy Trinity, and His Church ; and 
 common feelings of humanity would urge me to endeavour to procure 
 for others the great blessings I have enjoyed and do enjoy myself. 
 If Mr. Hall's catechist knew how much more has been done, because 
 needed, for my poor soul than for that of most men, he would not 
 have sought for inferior motives to account for my conduct. To me 
 much has been forgiven, and therefore I love much. Will you 
 pardon all this egotism? you have always been my father confessor^ 
 and I think it right to lay the whole case before you now, because, 
 as you have doubtless been sponsor for my piety to Mr. Hall, I 
 wish to let you see whether you can safely stand up for me. But I 
 am still so very conscious of the indwelling of sin in this mortal 
 body of mine, that I would not have you say much. I know that 
 many better persons may be obtained for Leeds than I am, but 
 certainly there can be none more desirous of doing his duty to his 
 God, his Saviour, and his Church. 
 
 To Rev. E. Gibson. 
 
 Coventry : March 23, 1837. 
 
 My dear Friend, — Understanding that you were apprised of my 
 success by my most kind and zealous friend Sheepshanks, I did 
 not write yesterday, as I had many friends at a distance impatient
 
 i837 Letters, March to April iZ-},"]. 217" 
 
 to hear from me. But did you argue from this that I am ungrateful: 
 for all your judicious exertions on my behalf? No ! or you would 
 not be the Edward Gibson I love — and love especially because he 
 always finds out the virtues and is rather blind to the faults of his 
 friends. Believe me that I shall never forget your kindness. 
 
 To my wife and me this is not pleasure without alloy. The 
 thought of leaving dear Coventry, where we have so many friends^ 
 where we have spent so many happy years, where we have so 
 many kind parishioners, where one blessed child is buried, is a 
 thought full of grief. But so is everj'thing in this world ; all happi- 
 ness must be of a mixed nature, or this world would be heaven. 
 
 Remember me, dear Gibson, in your prayers, and pray that I 
 may bear in mind the verse of Gregory Nazianzen : 
 
 To Rev. T. H. Tragett. 
 
 Coventry : March 23, 1837. 
 
 My dear Tragett, . . . Be it known to you that out of twenty- 
 three trustees sixteen voted for me, though there were thirty-five 
 candidates. The ' Evangelicals ' represented me to be a gambler, a 
 drunkard, and a Papist ; at last they found out that I was a Whig! 
 They were most fierce against the O.xford Tracts, making them 
 speak all sorts of heresies ; but then one of my supporters silenced 
 them by saying that I was not one of the writers of those Tracts, 
 and that therefore I was not to be judged by them : but it was 
 urged, ' He is known to be the friend of Pusey, Keble, and Newman.' 
 ' Yes, and this is one of his testimonials.' What higher honour 
 can a man have on this earth ? Will you thank that apostolic man 
 Keble for writing in my favour, as I am told he did. 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. 
 
 Coventry : March 30, 1837. 
 
 My dearest Friend, ... I cannot but think it very mean and 
 paltry, if not something worse, on the part of your wife, to presume 
 on her merits as being my patroness and as having got me a living 
 for the purpose of indulging in gross personalities. The trustees- 
 who came here had indeed received such accounts of my personal 
 appearance that one of them said, ' We expected to see a Saracen's 
 Head get up into the pulpit, whereas we found rathci- a good-IooJcmg
 
 -2 1 8 Life of Walter Farqiihai'' Hook. 1837 
 
 man than otherwise.' So to settle disputes I thought, I'll paint it, 
 and shame the fools. The likeness is considered admirable. An 
 ugly fellow I must confess I am. The artist came to me and asked 
 me to sit, as he wished to publish the engravings. I said, No. He 
 said that if he succeeded it would be a verj' great thing for him ; 
 . and then charity whispered, why should not he as well as I have 
 some of the good things of Leeds ? He was to give me the painting ; 
 but as I will not give you what costs me nothing, I shall make him 
 a present of his ten guineas ; what is the use of having money, but 
 to make those around us happy? and how pleased Mrs. Rosenburg 
 will be when Mr. Rosenburg goes home and counts out the money 
 he did not expect to receive ; and then who knows but what they 
 will remember their benefactor in their prayers ; and thus I shall 
 have made a righteous use of mammon. Though I write pleasantly, 
 I am very much depressed with the thought of what is awaiting me. 
 Firmness, gentleness, patience, these are the weapons with which 
 I shall have to fight. When my firmness is displayed, then there 
 will be fierce attacks, foes will rage, the crafty will try flattery, 
 friends will frown and call me obstinate ; you will hear all manner 
 of evil against your friend. Then I shall up with the shield of 
 gentleness ; they may rage, but I shall seek for grace to remain 
 calm, firm in principle, courteous in conduct. At last patience 
 will have her perfect work : the good among my opponents, seeing 
 that I will not go round to them, will come round to me. I have 
 • confidence in my success, if only I have health and strength for 
 two or three years. My only annoyance is about that dear good 
 man Robert Hall ; he thinks that I have only to go to Leeds and 
 all the Evangelicals will be at my feet. I know them better; when 
 they find that I do not renounce my principles and embrace theirs 
 then their fury will be great ; by gentleness I intend to appease it, 
 but do impress upon dear excellent Hall's mind that I must ha\ e 
 time ; perhaps two or three years. 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. — First Sermon at Leeds. 
 
 Armley House, Leeds : April 19, 1837. 
 My clearest Friend, — I send a line because I know that you and 
 your lady will wish to hear of us. Most calamitously, I was so 
 hoarse on Sunday that, though surrounded by an immense mob, I 
 could not do more than whisper my sermon. To my annoyance, 
 "iiowever, there were reporters present from the three newspapers,
 
 1 837 Letters, March to April 1%-^^"]. 219 
 
 and I was strongly urged to print my sermon by Mr. Hall, on 
 behalf of the trustees. As I had not the remotest idea of printing 
 it when I wrote it, this is a bore ; but as it will most likely be mis- 
 represented in the newspapers, I thought I had better send it to 
 the press, which I have accordingly done. After so much success 
 and flattery, I look upon this failure (for a complete failure it was) 
 as a merciful Providence ; it is a warning to me not to be too con- 
 fident in myself ; it tells ine on whose strength I must wholly and 
 solely rely. I am happy to say that I did not feel any annoyance 
 whatever from such feelings as might arise from mortified vanity ; 
 I have regarded the failure as a mercy, and not been annoyed at it 
 the least, except so far as I failed in my wish to let my mode of 
 conduct be known. This will be remedied by the publication.
 
 220 Life of Waiter Fai-qtihar Hook. 1837 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SETTLEMENT AT LEEDS. 
 
 JuiA' TO December 1837. 
 
 In May 1837 the new Vicar took his degree of D. D. at Oxford, 
 and preached twice on Sunday at St. Mary's, the church being 
 thronged with an immense crowd up to the very steps of the 
 pulpit. The beginning of July saw him and his family fairly 
 established in the house in Park Place, Leeds, which was to be 
 their happy home for twenty-two years. There were no build- 
 ings at that time on the opposite side of the road ; the situation 
 was airy and pleasant ; within easy reach of the heart of the 
 town, yet not so near as to be overwhelmed by the smoke of 
 its multitudinous factories and mills. 
 
 And now the gigantic magnitude of the work which lay 
 before him became day by day more clearly visible. It was 
 enough to appal the stoutest heart, and bewilder the steadiest 
 brain. In the character of its inhabitants, and in the condition 
 of their religious life, Leeds was a typical specimen of a West 
 Riding town. The common people were rough, uncouth, head- 
 strong, and independent in a degree calculated to daunt and 
 repel a stranger, until he discovered that below this rugged 
 surface there often glowed warm hearts, generous feelings, and 
 strong earnestness of purpose. John Wesley owned that at 
 first he had been startled and dismayed by the wildness and 
 rudeness of the inhabitants of the West Riding, but he soon 
 perceived that nowhere would a heartier response be made to 
 his awakening appeals ; nowhere was he destined to reap a 
 richer harvest of disciples. While the spirit of the Church was
 
 1837 First Six Months in Leeds. 221 
 
 torpid, and her outward development was hampered by causes 
 already mentioned,^ Methodism grew and flourished; Method- 
 ism alone kept pace with the rapid and enormous increase 
 of population in the northern manufacturing towns, and struck 
 its roots deeper and deeper year by year into the affections and 
 understandings of the people. The Evangelical pastors of a 
 former generation, such as Henry Venn of Huddersfield and 
 William Grimshaw of Haworth, had helped rather than hindered 
 the growth of Dissent, and the religion of pious Churchmen was 
 of a IMethodistic type. 
 
 The Church had now just become alive to her respon- 
 sibilities. The See of Ripon, after much vexatious opposition 
 in Parliament, had been founded in 1836, so that Bishop 
 Longley and Vicar Hook almost simultaneously began the 
 labours by which they were destined under God to win back 
 for the Church her long-lost supremacy in that part of the 
 country. 
 
 It was indeed none too soon to begin the work ; for there 
 were enormous arrears of duty which nothing but the most 
 persevering and energetic industry could overtake ; there was 
 ignorance on the part of Churchmen which only patient teach- 
 ing could enlighten ; apathy, which only burning zeal could 
 quicken ; and, on the part of political and religious opponents, 
 there were prejudice and suspicion which only the most for- 
 bearing charity could surmount. 
 
 The conditions then which the Vicar of Leeds was called 
 upon to face at the outset of his ministry were briefly these. 
 First, a huge and rapidly increasing population ; secondly, 
 ignorance ; and thirdly, active opposition. 
 
 The population had risen from 53,162 in 1801 to 123,393 
 in 183 1. The provision on the part of the Church for the 
 spiritual necessities of the place was and had long been miser- 
 ably inadequate. The parish comprehended the whole of the 
 town and a large portion of the suburbs. In 1825 there were 
 only four churches in the town besides the parish church, and 
 nine in the suburbs. The total number of the clergy was 
 
 • Chap. IV. page 103.
 
 22 2 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1837 
 
 eighteen. Ten years later the town churches had been in- 
 creased to eight by the erection at considerable cost of three 
 large and ugly Peel churches, which proved to be total failures. 
 They were wdthout endowment, the congregations were very 
 scanty, and the stipend derived from pew rents was next to 
 nothing. The town churches were mere chapels of ease to the 
 parish cliurch ; no districts were assigned to them, the patron- 
 age of nearly all was vested in the Vicar, and most of the 
 baptisms, marriages, and funerals were performed at the parish 
 church, the fees for such offices amounting to about 600/. a 
 year. 
 
 The Vicar of Leeds in 1837 was patron of the churches of 
 St. Paul, St. James, St. Mary, Christ Church, Armley, Beeston, 
 Bramley, Chapell Allerton, Farnley, Headingley, Holbeck, and 
 Hunslet. He had the joint patronage of St. John's with the 
 Mayor and the three senior Aldermen, and of Trinity Church 
 with the minister of St. John's and the Recorder. With the 
 exception of the districts of Woodhouse, Christ Church, and 
 St. Mary's, he was responsible for the entire pastoral charge of 
 the whole township. Yet the clerical staff of the parish church 
 for a long time past had consisted only of the Vicar, one curate, 
 and a clerk in orders. Nearly the whole of their time was 
 occupied in discharging the mere mechanical functions of the 
 clerical office. They were at the parish church from eight ta 
 half-past eleven every morning for marriages. They baptized 
 twice and churched twice every day, and burials were performed 
 daily ; in winter twice a day, and in summer three times. One 
 of the curates of the late Vicar who remained in charge of the 
 parish during the vacancy, observes, in a letter to Dr. Hook, 
 that the want of districts to each church in the town and the 
 inordinate labours consequently heaped on the Vicar and his 
 curates, prevented the successful prosecution of any plans for 
 bringing the Church to bear on the people : the schools were 
 only in the proportion of one in twenty-three of the population. 
 'Had we ten new churches,' he writes, 'with a corresponding 
 staff of clergy, and ten new schools, we should not have one 
 too many.'
 
 1 837 First Six Months in Leeds. 223-. 
 
 Weak, however, as the Church was, the Dissenters and 
 Socialists entertained the most implacable animosity against it, 
 and the appointment of a Vicar reputed to be bold and lofty in 
 his aims, and indefatigable in energy, provoked them to put 
 forth all their strength. The contest began immediately after 
 his election and before his residence in Leeds. The opposition 
 called loudly upon the people to muster in force at the vestry 
 meeting in April for the election of churchwardens, and to take 
 good care that only such men were appointed as would act on 
 a system of rigid economy and pay deference to the wishes of the 
 vestry. A set of High Church and extravagant churchwardens- 
 might be the means of imposing a heavy church-rate on the 
 parishioners against their will, might sanction or introduce 
 strange or distasteful practices, and involve the parish in most 
 vexatious and costly proceedings in the spiritual court. 
 
 The result of this appeal was that a large mob attended the 
 vestry meeting in the parish church. The parishioners chose 
 the seven whom they were entitled to elect. Most of them 
 were Dissenters, or men otherwise unfavourable or indifferent 
 to the interests of the Church. The Vicar had the right of 
 choosing one for Kirkgate ward ; but the Vicar was not present. 
 Mr. Taylor, the curate in charge, occupied the chair, as his 
 representative, and nominated Mr. Garland — a good Church- 
 man — for the office of Vicar's churchwarden. A turbulent scene 
 ensued. It was alleged by a large section of the meeting that, 
 in the absence of the Vicar, the right of electing his church- 
 warden lapsed to the vestry. The curate and a few supporters 
 maintained, on the contrary, that it devolved on him who acted 
 as the Vicar's delegate. The chairman acted with spirit and 
 firmness. The opposition proposed a resolution embodying 
 their view, but he refused to put it to the vote. He was bullied 
 for two hours, but held his ground ; and finally, amidst groans • 
 and hisses, entered the name of Mr. Garland in the minute 
 book as having been duly appointed by the Vicar's representa- 
 tive. The opposition appended a protest to this entry, and the- 
 meeting was dissolved. 
 
 The parish churchwardens proved true to the spirit in which.
 
 2 24 Life of Walter FarqiLhar Hook. 1S37 
 
 they had been elected. The Vicar on his arrival found the 
 surplices in rags and the service books in tatters, but the church- 
 wardens doggedly refused to expend a farthing upon such things. 
 When they assembled at the church for a vestry meeting, they 
 and others like-minded piled their hats and coats upon the holy 
 table, and sometimes even sat upon it ; but the new Vicar with 
 ■stern resolution quickly put a stop to such profane outrages. 
 He told them that he should take the keys of the church, and 
 that no meetings would be held there in future. ' Eh ! ' said 
 ■one, ' but how will you prevent it? We shall get in if we like.' 
 'You will pass over my dead body, then,' replied the Vicar. 
 Archdeacon Musgrave also paid a visit to the church, met the 
 ■churchwardens in the vestry, and told them that unless the 
 necessary things were provided, within a given time, steps 
 "would be taken to compel them ; or if they called a vestry and 
 a rate was refused, the vestry would be proceeded against. The 
 churchwardens grumbled excessively at these demands, and 
 •complained more especially of the increased expenditure for 
 •sacramental wine, owing to the weekly celebration of Holy 
 Communion. It was their custom at this time to remain in 
 the vestry during the administration of that Sacrament, osten- 
 sibly to guard the wine, but the Vicar had reason to susi)ect 
 that they themselves occasionally consumed it. 
 
 The malignant hostility to the Church and the Vicar, of 
 Avhich the seven churchwardens were the official instruments, 
 ■came to a head at a church-rate meeting held on August 19. 
 The building in which the meeting was convened could not 
 ■contain the masses who thronged into it, and it was proposed 
 that they should adjourn to a large oblong enclosure, surrounded 
 by the buildings of the Cloth Hall, and commonly called the 
 'Old Cloth Hall Yard. Here, on being called to the chair, the 
 Vicar found himself confronted by a mob of nearly 3,000 
 persons. A statement was made of the probable expenses for 
 the coming year. They amounted to 355/. 11^. dd. A half- 
 penny rate was proposed and seconded. A Baptist preacher 
 named Giles then rose and delivered a furious harangue, directed 
 partly against church-rates and partly against the Vicar. At
 
 1837 First Six Months in Leeds. 225 
 
 the conclusion of his philippic the Vicar got up and began by 
 observing that the speech of the gentleman who had just sat 
 down might be divided into two parts, one consisting of an 
 attack upon the system of church-rates in general, and the 
 other of abusive language towards himself — the Vicar. ' Into 
 the general question of church-rates,' he continued, ' I shall not 
 enter upon this occasion.' 'Eh! why won't 'ee ? ' shouted a 
 thousand sturdy Yorkshire voices. ' Because, my friends, you 
 wouldn't listen to me if I did (laughter). I will only observe 
 that the settlement of this particular church-rate rests entirely 
 between yourselves and the churchwardens. I personally am 
 not concerned in it. You have elected your own churchwardens. 
 You know they will not do more than the law requires, and 
 that the law will compel them to do what the law requires to 
 be done. Therefore if you do not grant the church-rate the 
 Church itself will sustain no injury, because the money will come 
 out of the churchwardens' pockets (laughter). With regard to 
 the second part of my friend's speech, that which consisted of 
 personal abuse, I would remind you that the most brilliant 
 eloquence without charity may be but as sounding brass ' (the 
 tone of his voice and the twinkle in his eye as he uttered these 
 words are described by an eye-witness of the scene as irresistibly 
 comic), 'and,' he proceeded, 'I am glad to have this early 
 opportunity of publicly acting upon a Church principle — a High 
 Church principle — a very High Church prmdple indeed — ' (a 
 pause, and breathless silence amongst the expectant throng) — 
 ' I forgive him ; ' and so saying he stepped up to the astonished 
 Mr. Giles and shook him heartily by the hand, amidst roars of 
 laughter and thunders of applause from the multitude. 
 
 The day was gained. The rate was passed, and a vote of 
 thanks to the chairman was carried with loud acclamation. 
 None could appreciate better than a crowd of Yorkshiremen 
 the mixture of shrewdness, good humour, and real Christian 
 feeling by which he had extricated himself from the difficulties 
 of his position and turned the tables against his opponents. 
 It was the first great public occasion, outside the walls of the 
 church, which enabled the people to see of what stuff he was 
 
 Q
 
 2 26 Life of Walter Farqukar Hook. 1837 
 
 made, and it did much to gain for him that sympathy and re- 
 spect from the working people which he continued to enjoy to 
 the end of his career at Leeds. Meanwhile, both by his minis- 
 trations in the church and by pastoral and social intercourse he 
 was rapidly winning over large numbers in all ranks, not only 
 to himself, but to the principles of the Church. Even before 
 he had taken up his abode in Leeds Mr. Robert Hall had dis- 
 cerned with delight evident symptoms of coming success. 
 
 So you have made up your mind (he wrote) to a three years' 
 martyrdom. Believe me, unless like the ranter in the play you 
 ' love to be prt:rsecuted,' you will either manage very ill or you will 
 he agreeably disappointed. At present, let me tell you, you are 
 almost more popular than, as a politician, I could have wished. 
 The reason is, in part, that those who condemned you tmread are, 
 most of them, compelled to absolve you read : in part, it is common 
 reaction ; in part, that the Wesleyans of Coventry have sent a high 
 character of you to the Wesleyans here, so that the Evangelical 
 attempt to awaken the antipathy of that body has signally failed. 
 You really would admire the commendable appetite with which 
 some of them are eating their own words. . . . On the other hand, 
 I cannot but look upon the late opposition as almost a providential 
 means of awakening the old High Church principles, which had 
 been slumbering in the hearts of the congregation of the parish 
 church, and though even they will require gentle treatment at first, 
 you will find them prepared to listen to you with docility. 
 
 The congregations at the parish church soon became so 
 large that scarcely standing room could be found at the Sunday 
 services. Much space was wasted by the large appropriated 
 pews and galleries Avith which the church was encumbered. 
 The poor sometimes went an hour before the time of service, 
 yet were unable to get in. Some of them would go to the 
 afternoon service, which was less fully attended, and sit on for 
 ihe evening service, when the church was most densely thronged. 
 The old parish church was a very large, and in many respects 
 a very handsome, fabric, but singularly ill adapted for public 
 worship. It was a great cross church of extraordinary breadth 
 in the nave — ninety-seven feet, owing to double aisles — and
 
 1837 First Six Months in Leeds. 227 
 
 with a chancel of extraordinary length, which for practical pur- 
 poses was completely severed from the nave, not only by the 
 bulky piers and arches, which supported a massive central tower, 
 but by a heavy gallery built across the eastern arch. The 
 double rows of columns also which supported the nave and 
 aisles were such serious obstructions to sight and sound that 
 most unseemly behaviour often occurred in those distant parts 
 to which the eye and even the powerful voice of the Vicar were 
 unable to penetrate. Early in the autumn of 1837 an address 
 was presented to him, signed by 640 parishioners, praying for 
 the improvement of the parish church, and a subscription list 
 was shortly afterwards opened, headed by the Vicar, Mr. 
 Benjamin Gott, and Mr. Christopher Beckett, with donations 
 of 200/. each. According to the plans first prepared by Mr. 
 Chantrell, the architect, it was proposed to take down the tower 
 and rebuild it on the north side, to widen the chancel and fit 
 it for service, to remove the galleries and great pews from the 
 nave, and generally to repair the whole structure. The estimate 
 for carrying these alterations into effect was 6,000/. In any 
 case it was necessary to remove the tower, for on examination it 
 was discovered that the piers, two of which were cracked from 
 top to bottom, rested on a shallow and rotten foundation of 
 loose stones and rubble ; and the safety of the fabric could not 
 be ensured from one day to another. On further consideration, 
 also, the inconveniences arising from the great width and ob- 
 structive columns of the nave appeared so serious, the founda- 
 tions and walls of the whole building were discovered to be so 
 insecure, and the cost of restoration seemed likely to be so 
 much greater than was at first expected, that the plan of re- 
 modelling was abandoned, and it was determined that a wholly 
 new church should be erected. 
 
 Probably in the present day some parts of the old structure, 
 and the general character of the whole, would have been pre- 
 served ; and the extreme dislike of the Vicar to the church, 
 which is so strongly expressed in the letters at the close of this 
 chapter, arose from his inability to detect the real beauties 
 v.hich were concealed beneath deformities of modern growth. 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 1837 
 
 But he was also convinced, and perhaps rightly, that the con- 
 struction of the building was very ill adapted for the proper and 
 devout celebration of the services of the Church of England. 
 Any attempt, moreover, at what is now called ' restoration ' 
 would probabl)^, at that time, when the revival of architectural 
 knowledge and taste was in its infancy, have proved a complete 
 failure; and the new church, although it doubtless deserves, 
 from a purely architectural and artistic point of view, some of 
 the severe criticisms which have been freely bestowed upon it, 
 l)ossesses several gi-eat merits to which attention will be drawn 
 in the proper place. 
 
 Feeling strongly as he did that a due celebration of Divine 
 Service was impracticable in the old church, the Vicar devoted 
 all his energy and resources to promote the successive schemes 
 of alteration and rebuilding. Trade was in a deeply depressed 
 condition, but- he knew well that there was wealth more than 
 sufficient for the purpose, and he was determined that the rich 
 men should do their duty. One of the most eloquent and suc- 
 cessful speeches which he made in the first year of his appoint- 
 ment was at a great meeting, held November 8, to consider the 
 best means of rendering the church suitable for public worship. 
 The plan for shifting the position of the tower and remodelling 
 the interior of the church was at that time the only plan which 
 had been brought forward. 
 
 'The Parish Church of Leeds,' said the Vicar, 'has been 
 described by Thoresby as "black but comely." Black, I am 
 sorry to say, it still is, but comely it has ceased to be, because, 
 owing to various alterations which have taken place from time 
 to time, not upon any fixed plan, the convenience of individuals 
 rather than the accommodation of the public has been con- 
 sidered. As the church at present stands it is almost, nay 
 altogether, impossible to perform the services of the sanctuary 
 with that order and decency with which we ought to perform 
 them.' After observing that the Communion Service could 
 not be performed in the chancel, and that the church was the 
 most difficult for the voice of all the churches in which he had 
 ever officiated, he proceeded :
 
 i837 First Six Months in Leeds. 229 
 
 At present it holds about 1,500 people : by the proposed plan we 
 shall get 1,200 more kneelings. I use the word in preference to 
 the term sittings, that persons may be reminded that they come to 
 church not to sit and hear a sermon, but to kneel before their God in 
 prayer. And of these 1,200 fresh kneelings, 700 will be free for the 
 use of the poor. I think I have stated reasons sufficient to convince 
 anyone who inay be tempted to ask the Judas question, To what 
 purpose is this expense ? I think I have used arguments sufficient 
 to convince the utilitarian ; but I must remember that I am address- 
 ing Churchmen — men accustomed to take a higher aim, to be in- 
 fluenced by a holier sentiment and a diviner principle. To them I 
 say, Go and look at the parish church, and then tell me if that be a 
 church befitting a parish so distinguished for opulence as this. I bid 
 them leave their homes, decorated by every art which elegance, 
 refinement, and taste can suggest, and I tell them to go look on the 
 Church of God, and I think the blush of shame will mantle on their 
 cheeks when they reflect that while they are dwelling in their 
 ceiled houses, the tabernacle of God is dwelling behind curtains. 
 I consider a handsome church to be a kind of standing sermon, 
 saying to the people. See how Churchmen love and honour their 
 God, oh come hither and worship in the beauty of holiness ! I trust 
 we shall be animated wath the spirit of David, who desired to build 
 a house for the Lord ' exceeding magnifical, of fame and of glory 
 throughout all countries.' I trust we shall be animated with the 
 spirit of Solomon, who loved the House of God, and the house 
 which he built was great, for he said, ' Great is my God above all 
 gods.' I trust we shall be animated with a desire that when the 
 children of our people go forth to distant parts of the land, or to 
 foreign countries, they may cast a longing, lingering look upon their 
 native town, and speak of the holy and beautiful house where their 
 fathers worshipped. I trust we shall be influenced by the Spirit of 
 that Blessed Being of whom when He became incarnate and died for 
 our sins it was said, ' The zeal of Thine house hath eaten me up ' : 
 and I trust it is under the influence of His Holy Spirit that I now 
 say to you, in the words of the prophet, ' Go up to the mountains 
 and fetch wood, and build the house of the Lord, and the Lord will 
 have pleasure in it, and I will be glorified, sailh the Lord.' 
 
 The conclusion of the speech was followed by loud and 
 prolonged cheering; and Mr. Christopher Beckett, in seconding 
 a vote of thanks to the Vicar as chairman, observed that it was
 
 230 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1837 
 
 impossible to estimate the value to the town of such a man : 
 for the good influence which he had in six months exercised 
 on all classes of the community in Leeds was indescribable. 
 The meeting testified its approbation of these remarks by 
 passing a vote of thanks to the trustees for having elected such 
 an excellent Vicar for the town. 
 
 The enthusiasm kindled at this meeting for the work of 
 remodelling or rebuilding the parish church was never suffered 
 to flag. A committee of sixteen, with the Vicar as chairman, 
 was formed, who carried on their labours with unabating zeal 
 until the completion of the new church in 1841. 
 
 An unusual number of important speeches were made by 
 the Vicar during the first two years of his ministry at Leeds ; 
 and they were probably the most eloquent and effective which 
 he ever delivered. It has commonly been said that he was 
 not a good speaker. This statement, however, must be taken 
 with great reservations. It is true, if by a good speaker is to 
 be understood one who can be depended upon to speak elo- 
 quently on all occasions and on any subject, whether he knows 
 much about it or not. It is not true, if the designation may be 
 extended to those who, though they may be unable to speak well 
 always, every^vhere, and on all subjects, nevertheless can at 
 times speak powerfully, and even brilliantly, upon subjects with 
 which they are thoroughly acquainted, and in which they feel 
 a deep interest. 
 
 The Vicar of Leeds was one of this class. There were two 
 conditions under which he could speak eminently well. One 
 was when he was thoroughly roused and put upon his mettle 
 by the presence of a multitude either warmly sympathetic or 
 fiercely antagonistic. ' Large mobs,' he once remarked to me, 
 ' inspired me to speak ; under excitement and before a large 
 multitude, when I got into a declamatory and rather rhetorical 
 vein, I could go on unceasingly; but I never could speak much 
 or fluently at small private meetings.' 
 
 The second condition which enabled him to speak effectively 
 was when his interest and feelings were thoroughly enlisted in 
 a subject, and the speech itself was the outcome of much pre-
 
 1837 First Six Months in Leeds. 231 
 
 vious thought and study. The preparation of such speeches 
 cost him much labour, but they were for the most part very 
 telling in delivery. 'I have made three or four great speeches,' 
 he said, 'in the course of my life — speeches, I mean, which 
 took more than an hour to deliver, were much applauded at 
 the time, and frequently quoted afterwards ; but the effort of 
 mind was very great to me, because I am not naturally a 
 speaker, and my memory is not good. My plan was to have a 
 distinct outline in my head, a peroration, a certain number of 
 points prepared and assigned to particular parts of the speech, 
 and others to be brought in as well as I could.' Speech-making 
 at meetings was a part of his duty which he never relished, 
 and would often gladly have avoided, had it been possible 
 or right to do so. But as it was an unavoidable necessity, 
 especially at the outset of his career in Leeds, he girded 
 himself to discharge this, like every other duty, with all his 
 might. 
 
 At the time that he became Vicar of Leeds and Dr. Long- 
 ley Bishop of Ripon, very great ignorance ^Drevailed in the 
 West Riding concerning the true principles, and the deep 
 claims upon Churchmen, of the two venerable Societies, for 
 Promoting Christian Knowledge, and Propagating the Gospel 
 in Foreign Parts. One of the Leeds parish churchwardens 
 who had attended morning service at St. John's observed to a 
 friend as he came out : ' We have been having a sermon and 
 collection for a Christian Knowledge Society : can you tell me 
 what the Society is for ? ' A very great increase in the support 
 given in Western Yorkshire to the two Societies dates from the 
 zealous and eloquent pleading of their cause by Vicar Hook 
 and Bishop Longley; and the local papers between 1837 and 
 1842 contain reports of many long, vigorous, and able speeches 
 made by the former on their behalf 
 
 But speeches would have availed little had they not been 
 followed up by action. Before the close of the year 1837 a 
 scheme had been devised for dividing the whole town into 
 twelve districts, in each of which a branch of the Society for 
 Promoting Christian Knowledge was to be established. The
 
 232 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1837 
 
 committees of these branches were to consist of a chairman, 
 the clergyman of the district, and two visitors for every thousand 
 inhabitants. A Depository was to be estabUshed in each dis- 
 trict, where specimens of the pubhcations of the Society should 
 be kept and exhibited, and notices placed in the window 
 directing the attention of the public to the name, nature, and 
 design of the Society. The duty of the visitors was to call 
 upon persons of all classes, in order to discover who were 
 in want of Bibles and Prayer-books amongst the poor, and 
 amongst the richer people to advocate the claims of the Society 
 upon their support. Once a month they were to report pro- 
 gress to the chairman, and once a quarter the chairmen of the 
 several districts were to meet the general committee for the 
 transaction of business at the Central Depository. The first 
 of these branches was opened in December 1837, in St. Mary's 
 Bank School, which was densely crowded, when the Vicar as 
 chairman explained the nature of the work which this and the 
 other branches would have to perform. And from this time 
 forward, as branch after branch was formed in this district and 
 in that, the Vicar was always at his post as president, making 
 his addresses a vehicle of instruction in the primary principles 
 of the Church generally, as well as of the Society, and thus 
 casting the net of the Church's influence further and further 
 into the broad and deep waters in which he had been called to 
 labour. 
 
 But the most direct influence which he exercised upon the 
 minds and hearts of his people was of course through his 
 sermons and pastoral intercourse. Seldom did any preacher 
 so happily blend instruction with exhortation in his ser- 
 mons. Sunday by Sunday, with great weight of learning 
 and with great force and perspicuity of language, did he 
 unfold the true nature and principles of the Church of 
 England; her apostolical succession — her foundation by St. 
 Augustine, her purification by the Reformers of the six- 
 teenth century, her harmony in creed and practice with the 
 Primitive Church. Sunday by Sunday did he, in his sermons 
 and in catechising the school children in church, exhibit tlie
 
 i837 First Six Months in Leeds. 233 
 
 meaning, the beauty, and the value of the Anglican Liturgy. 
 But with the didactic he never forgot to mingle the hortatory 
 and practical; he never forgot for a moment that the supreme 
 duty of the pastor is to win men to Christ, and to lead them to 
 cast their sins at the foot of His Cross; and all his teaching 
 about the ordinances of the Church was intended to show that 
 they were, when rightly and faithfully used, means to this great 
 end; that they were the hem of Christ's robe, through which 
 men might touch Him and be healed of whatsoever spiritual 
 disease they had. No Evangelical — no Methodist, ever 
 preached 'Christ crucified' more fully, freely, fervently, con- 
 stantly than he did; he only differed from them in pointing 
 out the rich provision made by Christ in His Church for aiding 
 men in drawing near to Himself, and in exhorting believers to 
 look to a steady course of obedience rather than feelings and 
 frames of mind as tests of spiritual growth. 
 
 The effects of such teaching became visible in the course 
 of even a few months. The whole number of communicants 
 when he entered on his charge at the parish church was little 
 more than fifty, and amongst these there were no young men, 
 and very few men of any age. One who had been the Vicar 
 of St. John's for thirty years declared he had never seen a 
 young man at the Lord's Table. A steady and rapid increase 
 set in after Dr. Hook's arrival, and in the course of two or 
 three years we find him speaking of 400 and 500 persons com- 
 municating on Easter Day. The more frequent confirmations 
 which were instituted after the establishment of the See of 
 Ripon were of course a great assistance in promoting this 
 improvement. Formerly they had taken place once in seven 
 years only, when a vast number of ill-prepared young people 
 were brought together from great distances. They were fre- 
 quently the occasions of scandalous festivities and improprieties, 
 and many of the candidates returned to their h Mnes initiated 
 in vice instead of being confirmed in goodness. After the 
 appointment of the Bishop of RijDon the confirmations were at 
 first triennial and ultimately annual. The first confirmation at 
 Leeds after the election of Dr. Hook took place in October
 
 234 Life of Walter FarqtiJiar Hook. 1837 
 
 1837, when upwards of 1,000 candidates of various ages were 
 presented by him and the other clergy of the township. 
 
 But the most remarkable result of his teaching this year 
 was the conversion to the Church of three Methodist preachers, 
 with a certain number of their followers. The movement was 
 ])urely spontaneous on their part, for it was not the custom of 
 the Vicar to allure proselytes from the ranks of Nonconformity. 
 His business, he conceived, was to proclaim truth rather than 
 to combat error. 
 
 The Methodist teachers came to him and informed him 
 that, having become convinced of the truth of Church principles 
 by his sermons and speeches, they wished to be received into 
 the fold; but there was one difficulty which weighed upon their 
 minds and the minds of their followers. They felt unwilling 
 to abandon the practice of class-meetings — a practice to which 
 they had always been accustomed, and which they considered 
 to be salutary in its effects. ' Do not let this be an impedi- 
 ment,' said the Vicar; ' by all means have your class-meetings, 
 and I shall be delighted to become one of your class-leaders.' 
 To this they readily assented. The first meeting, however, at 
 which he was present, he attended more as a distinguished 
 visitor than as a leader. It was held at the house of one o 
 the principal members of the connexion, who presided at the 
 head of a long table in the middle of the room. The Vicar, 
 and one of his curates who accompanied him, were invited to 
 occupy chairs near the leader, while the members of the class 
 sat round the walls facing the table, until the leader gave out a 
 hymn, when they all turned their faces to the wall. The hymn 
 being ended, the leader read and expounded a portion of 
 Scripture, after which the members of the class were called 
 upon to ' tell their experiences.' For some time there was no 
 response to the invitation, although it had been made in the 
 most encouraging tones. At length a man got up, and be- 
 ginning, 'This night I set up my Ebenezer,' proceeded in a 
 declamatory style to inform the meeting how he had formerly 
 believed that he saw the light of truth and followed the path of 
 righteousness, but how he had been smitten by ' t'Vicar's
 
 1837 First Six Months in Leeds. 235 
 
 sermon t' other night,' and now perceived that he had been 
 all the while walking in darkness and ungodliness. This 
 experience having been related, and no more being offered on 
 the part of others, the Vicar was invited to ' improve the occa- 
 sion.' He had discerned clearly enough that the intention of 
 the speaker had been to gratify him by paying compliments to 
 his persuasive preaching, and to magnify himself in the eyes of 
 all present by getting credit for his superior discernment of the 
 Vicar's great powers. The Vicar, therefore, began by observing 
 that his visit to the class-meeting had been most interesting 
 and instructive to him, for he now saw the full value of the 
 practice of telling experiences. Here was a man who had 
 himself believed, and had led others to believe, that he was a 
 ])illar of truth and a pattern of godliness, but who now came 
 forward to declare that all this had been a mistake and an 
 imposition. 'So now, brother,' continued the Vicar, 'we see 
 what your fault has been — self-deceit, brother, and hypocrisy, 
 too — yes, hypocrisy, brother. Oh ! what a hypocrite you have 
 been, brother ; you must repent of your hypocrisy.' The 
 feelings and countenances of the assembly, especially of the 
 member thus addressed, may be better imagined than described, 
 as the unmerciful Vicar ran on in this strain. To bring matters 
 to a close the leader proposed that the Vicar should ' engage 
 in prayer,' upon which he took out his Prayer Book and said 
 the greater part of the Litany in a tone and manner described 
 by an eye-witness as peculiarly impressive and affecting, after 
 which he shook hands with the leader and departed with his 
 companion, to discuss at the Vicarage the singular scene at 
 which they had assisted. 
 
 The result of his deliberations was a resolution that, while 
 willing to allow class-meetings, under the superintendence of 
 himself or one of his curates, the 'telling of experiences' should 
 be absolutely forbidden, as likely to minister to spiritual pride 
 and presumption. Many of the Wesleyans, however, were not 
 content to enter the Church on this condition, and only a few 
 of the more sober kind actually came over. Tlie Church 
 'class-meeting,' which had its origin in this occurrence, became
 
 236 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1837 
 
 a weekly meeting of communicants and church workers for 
 instruction and counsel under the Vicar, and has been carried 
 on from that time to this. 
 
 The following is a copy of rules for the class, which I have 
 found in the handwriting of Dr. Hook. 
 
 1. This class consists of persons who are communicants, or 
 preparing to become so, and is to be regarded as a private meeting 
 of my friends : as private as if we were to assemble at the 
 Vicarage. 
 
 2. Strangers, therefore, can only attend when introduced by a 
 member, and any person becoming a members ill be considered as 
 such for half a year at least. 
 
 3. Those members of the class who are willing to take or dis- 
 tribute tracts will signify their desire to do so to mc, and will pay 
 a penny a week to the treasurer of the fund. But it remains 
 optional to any member of the class to become a tract distributor 
 or not. 
 
 4. For those who undertake to distribute tracts I shall provide a 
 fresh tract every week. They will lend the tract among their neigh- 
 bours as they shall see fit, and then they may keep the tract to 
 form part of a library for the use of their servants. 
 
 5. Covers are provided for those who wish to lend their tracts. 
 
 6. Many of the tracts will be of a superior description, for send- 
 ing, not merely to the poor, but to better-educated classes of society, 
 who may be prejudiced at present against the principles of the 
 Church, or who may require confirmation in the principles which 
 they profess. 
 
 The meeting was in fact a weekly instruction by the A-^icar 
 in some book of Holy Scripture, or some portion of the Liturgy. 
 It was one of the principal means by which he rallied round 
 him a body of earnest and intelligent workers, so that it became 
 a centre in which religious light and warmth were gendered, 
 and from which they were diffused to others.
 
 i837 Letters, 1837. 237 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE, July to December 1837. 
 
 To his Sister — First impressions of Leeds. 
 
 The Vicarage, Leeds : July 5, 1837. 
 My dearest Georgiana, — We this night sleep for the first time 
 in the Vicarage, and as you have been a good girl, and written to 
 me (for you) very well of late, I will indulge you with a letter. 
 Things are now beginning to be veiy comfortable : the house is a 
 delightful one, just the kind of house I particularly like — lofty 
 rooms but not too large. I have a delightful study, which is the 
 only room completely furnished, besides our bedroom. Pratt is 
 like a brother, and seems highly pleased with everything. He 
 manages to understand the Yorkshire lingo better than I can. To 
 Yorkshire manners I am becoming a little reconciled. I am 
 beginning with the greatest delicacy to hint to the people that this 
 house is not quite public property. Hitherto eveiybody seems ta 
 have thought himself justified in entering it, and in criticising all 
 that the Vicar has been doing ; while sturdy beggars, men out of 
 work, meet me at every turn, and almost demand relief I am now 
 in full w^ork ; the poor curates, sexton, clerk, &c., are surprised : 
 they evidently thought that I should let them go on in their own 
 slovenly way, while I should be employed in some grand under- 
 takings, such as building new churches and schools ; whereas the 
 learned doctor (they doctor me here, ' Yes Doctor, No Doctor, at 
 almost every second word) says, ' fair and softly,' one thing at a 
 time. They heard nothing of me the first week. I first set my 
 study in order, and next the parish church must be put in order ; so 
 to show how things shall and must be done, I am taking all the 
 full curate's duty ; I have this day offered the prayers three times, 
 besides burying, baptizing, and churching. The stated services in 
 this church are prayers three times a day ; and instead of seeking 
 for a congregation the curates, sexton, clerk, &c., have endeavoured 
 to prevent one being formed, and then used that as an excuse for 
 having no service. I have ordered the sexton whenever there is no 
 congregation to go into the street and give two old women sixpence 
 a-piece to come in and form one ; so that no sham excuse can be 
 tolerated. The curates have now but little to do, though I make 
 them attend ; for when I have ordered the funerals to be properly 
 performed, they have urged that it was iinpossible, so with baptisms,
 
 238 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1837 
 
 &c. ; and therefore, in order to refute them, I have taken the duty 
 myself, just to prove that ' what is impossible can sometimes come 
 to pass.' The black looks with which I am regarded, notwith- 
 standing the soft words used, are rather amusing ; but the services 
 of the Church shall be performed as they ought to be, before any- 
 thing else is done. I am also busily employed, with an architect, 
 devising some plan to make decent my nasty, dirty, ugly old 
 church. I am determined to get that into something like order, 
 if possible. The difficulties are tremendous, but I am in good 
 heart. 
 
 To the Rev. J. W. Clarke— Nature of the Work io he done at Leeds. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : July 7, 1837. 
 
 My dear Clarke,- — I write to you again to say that now you are 
 appointed lecturer, you may entirely suit your own convenience, 
 and what you think to be due to your two parishes, about the time 
 of your coming here. The curates and clerk in orders make not 
 a little fuss about the work they have to do, which, nevertheless, is 
 but little ; and your absence does not add to their labours, though 
 your coming will diminish them. My system is to do one thing at 
 a time, and not have too many irons in the fire ; and my business 
 now is to get the ministerial work at the parish church properly 
 performed \ I am therefore myself undertaking full curate's duty. 
 Nothing could have been more slovenly than the proceedings at 
 the parish church — baptisms, marriages, funerals, all slurred over ; 
 this I am resolutely reforming in spite of the curates, clerk, sexton, 
 &c. Their system has been not to consult the convenience of the 
 public, but to save themselves trouble. My system is not to care 
 for the trouble of the clergy, but to consult the convenience of the 
 public, and to enamour them of our services by having them 
 solemnly and devoutly performed. In this good work I shall look 
 forward to your kind and cordial co-operation. If you and I show 
 that we attach importance to the solemn performance of even the 
 slightest duty connected with our dear Master's service ; that we 
 consider even the office of a doorkeeper in His house an office of 
 honour; that, convinced of His presence, we are as devout in 
 oftering the prayers when only two or three are present as when 
 there are two or three hundred ; we shall find His blessing attend- 
 ing us, and we shall be the means of converting others. I confess 
 I attach the very greatest importance to the solemn performance of
 
 i837 Letters, 1837. 239 
 
 the occasional duties. As in this respect you will have to act as my 
 strict ally, I wish, if you have time, you would read again and 
 attentively Wheatley on the Common Prayer, and any other simi- 
 lar work. I prefer Wheatley to Shepherd, because the rjQos of 
 Wheatley's teaching is more Catholic, more in accordance with the 
 Church spirit. It might be well also to read over the Oxford tracts ; 
 not that I care whether you agree with them or not, but because 
 the people here are all reading them, and it would be expedient to 
 know something of them, and because, however you may differ on 
 particular points, you cannot but be delighted with the fine, noble, 
 and truly Christian spirit with which they are written. 
 
 To the Rev. Samuel Wilberforce — Clerical Meetings — Character 
 of Churchinanship in Leeds. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : July 1837. 
 My dear Friend, . . . My next object in writing is to request 
 you to give me a few hints as to the rules of your clerical society, 
 with a copy of the prayer you use at meeting. There are alto- 
 gether twenty-two clerg}-men in this parish, who are somewhat 
 under my jurisdiction, and I propose giving them a breakfast once 
 a month at my house, where we shall form a kind of club. There 
 are three ' Evangelicals ' of the old school, about four or five high 
 Establishment men, beginning to understand a little about the 
 Church, and the rest are ' orthodox-men ' of the old school ; all 
 steady, quiet, but (except the four or five I have alluded to) illite- 
 rate men. These are my materials : my wish is to infuse mto 
 them a Church spirit. Any advice will be gratefully received from 
 you, who have succeeded so well in the Isle of Wight. The an- 
 nouncement of my intention to give these breakfasts has given 
 much satisfaction. I prefer breakfasts, not only because it will be 
 most convenient to all parties concerned, but because in a town 
 great clerical dinners would give rise to evil report. I do not find 
 my position here an easy one. As to Church feeling, to Catho- 
 licism, the thing is utterly unknown to clergy and laity. The de 
 facto established religion is Methodism, and the best of our church- 
 people, I mean the most pious, talk the language of Methodism ; 
 the traditional religion is Methodism. An Independent teacher of 
 some celebrity remarked to me the other day, that his sect is 
 affected by this fact just as we are, so that I have to begin and lay 
 a new foundation. I intend, please God, to begin soon a course of
 
 240 Life of Walter Fargu/iar Hook. 1837 
 
 sermons on the Liturgy', and I fancy some persons who think 
 themselves good Churchmen will rather stare when I speak of the 
 Liturgy as absolutely good, their mode of defence having hitherto 
 been that it is not absolutely bad ; that it needs great reforms, but 
 still it is not so bad as to force them to desert the Establishment ', 
 which is here the all in all of Churchism. 
 
 To 11'. r. IVood, Esq. — First Impi-essions of Leeds. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : July 1837. 
 My dearest Friend, — I am in your debt for two letters, and 
 perhaps they will long remain unanswered if I do not avail myself 
 of the present half-hour to write to 5'ou ; not that I can answer for 
 having so much time at my own disposal, the inten'uptions here 
 being incessant. Trade is so very bad that half the population are 
 begging ; such sturdy beggars as the Yorkshire beggars it has 
 never been my fortune to meet ; in Coventry, in the worst of times, 
 I never saw the like. But let me begin at the beginning, and tell 
 5^ou first how I like Leeds, that parish in which you, under Provi- 
 dence, have placed me. On the whole I am well pleased, though 
 the labour which I anticipate is great. The house is airy and 
 pleasant, and this is with me a great point ; I really think that if I 
 had had a good airy study at Coventry I should never have left it. 
 I am disappointed in the country round ; indeed one can hardly 
 get into the countiy till a horseman, not of the first order, is pre- 
 pared to return to the town, for the suburbs are very extensive. 
 But oh my dear Wood, such a church as I have ! I really loathe 
 it ; I cannot preach comfortably in it, I can scarcely make myself 
 heard ; and the dirt, the indecorum, &c., &c., quite distress me. 
 You know my system as I learnt it from Bishop Jebb. I do not 
 oppose Dissenters by disputations and wrangling, but I seek to 
 exhibit to the world the Church in her beauty ; let the services of 
 the Church be properly performed, and right-minded people will 
 soon learn to love her. But here, all that is thought of is preach- 
 ing ; partly, without doubt, because the church is so arranged that 
 to perform the services well and properly is almost impossible. I 
 am much annoyed on Sundays by persons coming to hear me 
 preach ; but they will soon find out that I am not that most detes- 
 table of all characters, a popular preacher. And then I shall get 
 my regular flock around me, and I am longing to preach a course
 
 1 837 Letters, 1837. 241 
 
 of sermons on the Liturgy', which will,- 1 think, surprise the Leedites, 
 as they imagine that there can be only two subjects for sermons — 
 Justification and Sanctification. The real fact is, that the estab- 
 lished religion in Leeds is Methodism, and it is Methodism that all 
 the most pious among the Churchmen unconsciously talk. If you 
 ask a poor person the ground of his hope, he will immediately say 
 that he feels that he is saved, however great a sinner he may be ; 
 so that you see I have much to contend with. Last night, the 
 teachers of the Sunday schools (Sabbath schools, as they rejoice 
 to call them) met together to deliver to me a congratulatory 
 address. They proposed forming themselves into a society, to 
 meet eveiy month ; to begin every meeting with prayer and 
 praise ; upon which, being up to their tricks, I immediately said 
 that I highly approved of their design, and that, as they were 
 Churchmen, I would give them the greatest of all possible plea- 
 sures ; they should come to church, attend evening service at 
 seven o'clock, when I would preach to them, and they should after- 
 wards meet in the vestiy. It then came out that they had been 
 accustomed to assemble for extempore prayer, which they wished 
 to be continued ; upon which I suggested that those who wished 
 to be Churchmen would of course prefer the privilege of the Church 
 prayers. When they begged me to pray, out I brought my prayer- 
 book, and went through the Litany, which seemed deeply to 
 impress the majority, and having begun with one of Wesley's 
 hymns, they ended with the Hundredth Psalm, I having evidently 
 succeeded in raising a Church spirit among the majority. I shall 
 begin to catechise in church (d.v.) the first Sunday in August. I 
 have been much worked lately with committees and public meet- 
 ings ; on Monday I had to make two eloquent speeches ; one on 
 an address to the Queen, when I applied to her the words of 
 Shakspeare (Archbishop Cranmer) to Queen Elizabeth, ' Truth 
 shall nurse, holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her,' &c. ; the 
 other on raising a subscription for the poor. I make a point of 
 going everywhere and doing everything, as it is important at first 
 to show what one can do ; afterwards we may rest on our oars. 
 On Wednesday I am to preside at a floral show. The worst of it 
 is that I cannot preach here ; I know that there is no one in church 
 who can have a thought in sympathy, that even my very expres- 
 sions are not understood, and I do not find the spirit in me ; this is 
 a fault, and must be remedied by prayer. 
 
 R
 
 242 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1837 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. — Catlicdral Choirs — Accession of 
 Methodists. 
 
 Leeds : August 1837. 
 
 ... I perfectly agree with you in your regrets at the careless- 
 ness of our English choirs. The fact is, that chanting iind all old 
 Catholic practices have only been tolerated in England, the 
 majority of our people being ultra-Protestants. I have always 
 wished that a body of the laity would come forward with a remon- 
 strance to the ecclesiastical commissioners, reminding them that 
 the interest of the laity ought to be attended to in their arrange- 
 ments ; and since they will re-arrange the cathedrals, that the 
 income of one stall at least should be appropriated in each cathe- 
 dral to increase the efficiency of the choirs. . . . You will be 
 delighted to hear that my success here already exceeds my most 
 sanguine expectations. Churchmen have hitherto been accustomed 
 to think the Church bad enough, but not too bad for them as Tories 
 to belong to it. They seem quite delighted to hear me prove that 
 the Church is absohttely excellent. My course of sermons on the 
 Church and Liturgy is received enthusiastically ; and — glory be to 
 God ! — my most earnest prayer, it seems, is likely to be granted, 
 for this morning I received an intimation that some of the leading 
 Methodists, convinced by what I have said, are desirous of leav*ing 
 their society and of acting under me on Church principles. If I 
 can but enlist their Methodism, their godly enthusiasm, in the 
 right cause ! I have offered to meet them with rapture. It is a 
 great advantage to be so thoroughly grounded in my principles as 
 I am, for I know exactly how far to concede and where to stop. 1 
 have thorough confidence in myself on these points. 
 
 To the Rev. J. H. Trageit — Settling at Leeds. 
 
 August 21, 1837. 
 
 My dear Tragett, . . . We have here a large, airy, comfortable, 
 delightful house. 1 could not wish for a better ; it is situated in 
 the best part of the town, and will reconcile us, if anything can, to 
 a town residence. Furnishing goes on very slowly. You can 
 easily imagine the higgling and haggling and bargaining which is 
 constantly going on. Mrs. Hook and Mrs. Johnstone have found
 
 1837 Letters, 1837. 243 
 
 out all the cheap shops, and if in the morning they manage to have 
 saved a penny, you cannot imagine what pleasant companions they 
 are in the evening. As to religion, the traditional or established 
 religion in Leeds is Methodism ; and consequently, as is natural, 
 since we breathe a Methodistic atmosphere, everything has a 
 Methodistic tendency. A pious Churchman here means a person 
 who likes an establishment, and consequently supports the Church ; 
 but then the Church is not sufficient to supply his wants ; so that 
 he probably institutes two or three prayer-meetings in some large 
 house or warehouse oh the week-days, where he can indulge in 
 extemporaneous prayer and Methodistic rant. Nor do the people 
 venture to entertain a notion that the Church is right ; their mode 
 of defence is to show that it is not so very wrong that it is sinful to 
 belong to it ; they do therefore belong to it, looking forward to the 
 day when it will be reformed — i.e. brought down to the state of some 
 Methodistic sect. Even many of the clergy, without knowing it, 
 shape their doctrines and style of preaching according to the 
 Methodistic system ; and those who are not humdrum, labour not 
 to instruct, but to excite. I am stirring up the clergy by insisting 
 upon the strictest rubrical observance in all the occasional services 
 ■ — baptisms, marriages, and funerals. Nobody here seems to have 
 a notion that baptism is anything more than a form of registration ; 
 I think it my duty therefore to have it always administered with 
 peculiar solemnity. They do stare sometimes when I tell them 
 that before administering the Sacrament, I require them to attend 
 the prayers of the Church, and pray with me : they think by the 
 Sacrament I must needs mean the Lord's Supper. 
 
 To IV. P. Wood, Esq.— Hard Work— The Oxford School. 
 
 I^eds : November 13, 1837. 
 
 My dearest Friend, — Although ever)' moment of my time is 
 occupied, I must write a line to thank you for your letter, and to 
 thank you also for having thought of me when you were in foreign 
 parts. I cannot tell you how much I miss the advantage of that 
 correspondence with you, which has been the blessing of my life ; 
 from which I have perhaps derived more of benefit than from any 
 other thing whatever. But I now have to preach four times a 
 week : twice on Sundays, once on Wednesdays at Mr. R. Hall's 
 schooL, which I have had licensed, and on Friday evenings at 
 
 K 2
 
 244 ^i/^ ^f ^Valter Farqtihar Hook. 1837 
 
 church. This, with constant interruptions — everybody exhorting 
 me not to overwork myself, but eveiybody thinking that his own 
 particular business ought to be made an exception to the general 
 rule he would lay down- — gives me much occupation. I have sent 
 you an ' Intelligencer,' which will gladden your heart ; but you 
 must not suppose that all things are going on smoothly. As to 
 the success which seems to have attended me hitherto, it humbles 
 me to the dust ; it seems as if God intended to use me as an in- 
 strument of good, while I am horribly afraid that I may be a 
 Balaam, that my heart is not so completely converted as it ought 
 to be. This feeling has depressed me ever since the meeting, but 
 1 had much profitable prayer yesterday, and was in tears during 
 the greater part of the morning service. I certainly do not find my 
 })rogress what I wish, and I am dreadfully afraid of being myself 
 a castaway ; and yet on one grand point — temper — the progress of 
 grace has been such as to make me humbly hope that the great 
 work is going on in me. I agree with much that you say about my 
 Oxford friends ; they are certainly the most injudicious of mortal 
 men. Palmer, you know, has long cut the connexion with them. 
 I am afraid they will upset the coach, they are such very Jehus. 
 What you say about ceremonies meets my view, only that I should 
 wish to see many ceremonies gradually and imperceptibly restored. 
 The Oxford school system is decidedly bad, but you have only 
 looked on one side of the question, and do not perceive their 
 principle, which must be taken into consideration when forming 
 a judgment. We are on the eve of a new controversy with the 
 papists, who are breaking up new ground ; they do not now insist 
 on image worship, worship of saints, &c., &c., as necessary doc- 
 trines ; they say it is only a part of the discipline of the Church to 
 which individuals are at liberty to object if they will. This system 
 of explaining away the obnoxious parts of Romanism was invented 
 by Bossuet, and is carried out by Wiseman. They then say their 
 worship, their mode of propounding doctrines, their ecclesiastical 
 language, and their ceremonies are much nearer to what we read 
 of in the primitive times as the practice of the Universal Church 
 than those of the English Church. Surely then, they argue, you 
 had better be with us ; we will not compel you to believe more 
 than you now do, but you will be nearer the primitive model. 
 You are not aware how great a weight this has with many people. 
 I know it, because I have now under my tuition two of the 
 daughters of my neighbour, Mr. Newton, the celebrated Methodist
 
 i837 Letters, 1837. 245 
 
 preacher, who are resolute to go over to Popery ; their feeling is 
 what I have described, and it is the case with others. Now the 
 Oxford school say (and I agree with them) that all this is owing to 
 our having, ever since Cromwell's time, endeavoured to assimilate 
 both our mode of stating our doctrines and our forms loifh the con- 
 venticle, with ultra-Protestants. Work the Church of England, 
 they say, as she ought to be worked, attend to her real instructions 
 as to ceremonies, state your doctrines, e.g. Regeneration, as she 
 states them in her formularies, and you rob the papist of this 
 argument. Where 1 disagree with them is in the abruptness of 
 their proceedings, and their disregard of weaker brethren ; they 
 act really from a dread of Poper)', but seeing all its strong points, 
 against which ultra-Protestants rather declaim than argue. It is 
 time for a committee, and I must conclude.
 
 246 Life of 1 Falter Fai'qnhar Hook. 1838- 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 PART I. : PUBLIC LIFE FROM 1838 TO 1840. 
 
 In April of the year 1838 a great Conservative bancjuet was 
 held in Leeds. The short-lived administration of Sir Robert 
 Peel in 1835 had been beaten on a resolution moved by Lord 
 John Russell, ' That the House should resolve itself into a 
 committee of the whole House to consider the state of the 
 Established Church in Ireland, with the view of applying any 
 of its surplus revenues, not required for the spiritual care of its 
 members, to the general education of all classes of the people, 
 without distinction of religious persuasion.' The majority, 
 however, against Sir Robert Peel's Government on this motion 
 had not been more than thirty-three in a very full house. The 
 Melbourne administration was weak, and was forced to purchase 
 stability by a closer alliance than many of its supporters relished 
 with the Irish Roman Catholic leader O'Connell and his party 
 — ' O'Connell and his tail,' as they were vulgarly called. 
 Churchmen were filled with apprehension also lest the Govern- 
 ment should be tempted to buy the support of the Socialists in 
 England, by taking away some of the property of the Church 
 for the purposes of national education on secular principles. 
 
 On all accounts, therefore, the Conservative party deemed 
 it of the utmost importance to rally their forces with energy and 
 promptness. On the one hand there was a reasonable prospect 
 of their succeeding, by a determined and united effort, in over- 
 throwing the Liberal Government ; on the other the continu- 
 ance of that administration in power was, in their judgment, 
 fraught with peculiar perils to the Constitution both in Church
 
 -1840 Consei'vative Banquet. 247 
 
 and State. The hopes of their party centred in Sir Robert 
 Peel. They might succeed in uniting the more moderate 
 reformers with those members of the Tory party who, Uke him- 
 self, were prepared, however reluctantly, to concede changes 
 which the spirit of the age seemed to demand. 
 
 The ^'icar of Leeds was one of those who considered that the 
 best chance of averting calamity from the Church at this crisis 
 lay in the return of Sir Robert Peel to power. He therefore 
 departed for once from his general rule of holding aloof from 
 all political demonstrations. He attended the banquet in Leeds, 
 and made one of the most eloquent and effective speeches, 
 lasting nearly an hour, which he ever delivered. 
 
 Rarely has a larger festival of the kind taken. place in any 
 of the great provincial towns of England. • The dining saloon 
 was 120 feet long, by 80 broad. Nine tables, each 99 feet 
 long in the body of the hall, and a cross table 65 feet long at the 
 top, accommodated 1,200 guests, whilst 500 ladies in the gallery, 
 and 200 servants, made up a total of nearly 2,000 persons present. 
 
 The Chairman was Mr. William Beckett ; and among the 
 principal speakers were Sir George Sinclair, Lord Wharncliffe, 
 Lord Maidstone, and Sir Francis Burdett, who indeed was 
 honoured as the most distinguished guest of the evening, 
 occupying a place on the right of the Chairman, next to Lord 
 Wharncliffe. 
 
 The health of the Vicar and clergy of Leeds was proposed 
 about the middle of the evening, and was drunk with four 
 times four amidst tremendous cheering, which was renewed 
 and lasted for a long time when the Vicar rose to return 
 thanks. 
 
 Gentlemen (he began), I rejoice to hear those shouts, for they 
 have been raised not as an idle compliment to the clergy of Leeds 
 — they are not intended as a compliment to me individually — they 
 are intended — are they not .'' — to attest your zeal, your loyalty, 
 your devotion to the cause of the Church. I see before me many 
 familiar faces, many who are accustomed to attend my ministr)-. 
 To them I have had other opportunities of stating the spiritual 
 claims of the Church, the spiritual advantages, the spiritual privi-
 
 248 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1S38- 
 
 leges of belonging to the Church, liut I stand before you this day 
 not as your pastor, but as one of your fellow subjects come here to 
 declare my adhesion to the Conservative cause — my determination 
 to unite with you, by every lawful means and measure, to uphold 
 and maintain those rights and privileges to which as an English- 
 man 1 am entitled. ... I am not to be daunted by that clamour 
 which is sometimes raised against the clergy when they dare lo 
 meet their lay brethren for a political object. I have never been a 
 busy politician because 1 had neither time nor inclination. Once, 
 and only once, in my life before this have I attended a political 
 dinner ; but I have abstained, not because I had no right to l)c 
 present, but because I thought my attendance might interfere with 
 my ministerial usefulness— a regard for which is my first and 
 primaiy duty. And, gentlemen, 1 am jiresent this day at this 
 glorious, this splendid festival, because 1 verily believe that my 
 absence would have interfered with my ministerial usefulness. I 
 think you would have considered your Vicar as wanting in his 
 duty, if in this cause he had shown himself afraid to come before 
 you from any dread of the pitiless pelting of a profligate Whig 
 press — a press which seems to act upon the assumption that a 
 Popish priest can do no wrong, and a Protestant clerg>-man can do 
 no good. 
 
 He then dilated upon tlic danger that a (iovernnieiU wliii li 
 had depressed the Church and favoured the Roman Catholics 
 in Ireland would depress the Church in England, not indeed 
 of deliberate purpose, but from the exigencies of their situation, 
 by weakly yielding to the counsels of the Secularists and the 
 Dissenters on the subject of education. 
 
 The pious Churchman (he said) and the pious Dissenter are 
 united in considering that the education of an immortal being — a 
 being who is to be educated not merely for time but for eternity — 
 must be based upon religion ; and happy am I to know that the 
 religious feeling of this religious community has been roused upon 
 the subject. The advocates for the secular system of education 
 say, ' No, there shall be a system of secular education, not based 
 upon religion, and then, after that, the people may send their 
 children for religious instruction where they please.' I should like 
 to know what time the children of the poor would have to give to 
 this double system of education, as ever)' person who has been at
 
 -1840 The Vicar s Speech. 249 
 
 all employed in education is well aware that two-thirds of the 
 •children sent to our schools are sent there not for the sake of re- 
 ligious instruction but for the sake of the general information we 
 give, the price we demand being that they shall also receive re- 
 ligious instruction. So that if this secular system be established, 
 two-thirds of the children will be brought up without any religious 
 instruction, without any knowledge of their Saviour and their God. 
 I say I rejoice to find that attention has been called to this 
 subject, and that ministers have said that they will not give their 
 sanction to any education that is not based upon religion. But 
 judging of their past conduct, we have a right to ask : What do 
 you mean by religious instruction ? Do they mean scriptural 
 education ? Yes, some of them reply. Well, but we may ask 
 what kind of scriptural education 1 Do you mean such as that 
 •which is given in Ireland.? Now the scriptural education given in 
 Ireland is not the whole Bible, but selections from the Bible. It 
 IS veiy true that good selections may be made fi'om the Bible, con- 
 taining every leading doctrine of our religion, but if we go to Ire- 
 land we find that the leading doctrines are excluded from their 
 ■extracts, so that their system of religious teaching is very much 
 like an orange with the juice squeezed out of it. But let that pass ; 
 and the question may again be asked. What do you mean by 
 religion? Is it the religion of the Church of England .'' No; be- 
 cause, if that were so, the present system would require no altera- 
 tion, and that would exclude the Dissenters. Is it the religion 
 based upon Protestantism 1 No ; because that would exclude the 
 Papists. Well then, let us ask, do you mean Christian principles ? 
 No ; that would exclude the Deists. .So then their exclusive sys- 
 'tem of education would include no religion at all. 
 
 After observing that the Government had been deterred 
 from bringing forward a scheme of education based on the 
 ]*russian plan, on accoimt of the large sum of money, about 
 300,000/., for which they would have to ask Parliament, he 
 proceeded : 
 
 The Government, then, not finding themselves strong enough to 
 .ask for such a sum, have laid aside their project for the present, 
 wind their friends, in their writings and cheap publications, arc 
 pointing out a species of property which they think may be 
 made available for their object ; that is, the Church propert). 
 They ask fur a pojlion of the Church's property for ilic- purposes
 
 250 Life of Walter Farqiiliar Hook. 1838- 
 
 of their secular education. They reason thus : they say they 
 intend the education of the people — for the education of the 
 people, indeed, in part they do intend ; but, as we all know, 
 only in part. The Church, we know, was established for the sancti- 
 fication of the people, and education is only one branch of that 
 work. But they shirk that part of the question ; and they say that 
 the whole of the people will not be educated by the Church, and 
 therefore they must take a part of the property of the Church, as 
 they will compel the people to be educated in their way. And they 
 say that the State may at any time take away the property of the 
 Church, because it was originally given to her by the State. Now 
 if I were to meet a man in the street to-day, and were to give him 
 half-a-crown, am I, if I meet him to-morrow, to take it back, and. 
 say I have found some one more worthy ? But I deny their 
 premisses altogether. When did the State give property to the 
 Church ? Where is the Act of Parliament by which it was given ? 
 
 He then proceeded very lucidly to demonstrate, by reference 
 to facts well known to every student of history, the origin of 
 ecclesiastical endowments in the gifts of individual benefactors, 
 and also to expose the fallacy, more common then than it is now,. 
 of supposing that at the time of the Reformation this property 
 was taken from one Church and handed over to another. 
 
 He concluded his speech with a glowing eulogy on Sir 
 Robert Peel, a statesman for whom he entertained a higher 
 admiration than for any other excepting Mr. Gladstone. 
 
 All the newspapers in their accounts of this festival concur 
 in pronouncing the Vicar's speech to have been the most strik- 
 ing of all which were made that evening. None were com- 
 parable to it in weightiness of matter, in sustained eloquence, 
 and in the musical voice and dignified manner of the speaker. 
 None elicited more frequent and enthusiastic applause froni 
 the assembly. I have made rather copious extracts from it, 
 chiefly to illustrate his views on the subject of national educa- 
 tion : views from which he never departed in principle, although 
 the scheme proposed in his celebrated pamphlet, hereafter to be 
 noticed — 'How to Render more Efficient the Education of the 
 People' — was erroneously imagined by many to be inconsistent 
 with them.
 
 -1 840 ^ Hear the ChjtrcJu 251 
 
 In June of this year (1838) he preached at the Chapel 
 Royal, before the young Queen and her Court, the memorable 
 sermon, ' Hear the Church ! ' It deserves the epithet which I 
 have applied to it, because it excited much commotion at the 
 time in the political and fashionable world, and ran through 
 twenty-eight editions, in which about one hundred thousand 
 copies were sold. But in the present day it is difficult to com- 
 prehend the sensation which it produced (a proof how much 
 the doctrine set forth has gained ground) ; and even then it 
 was astonishing to those who thoroughly understood the sermon 
 — to no one more than the author himself. It was an old ser- 
 mon, originally composed at Coventry as one of a series on the 
 Gospel of St. Matthew, and subsequently delivered at Leeds 
 and other places. A few alterations only were introduced to 
 adapt it to the occasion, and the sermon itself was selected 
 because he thought it would answer the aim which he had in. 
 view as well as if he had \\Titten a new one. That aim simply 
 was to lay before the young sovereign the claims, the character 
 and the privileges of the Church of which, in the providence of 
 God, she had been called to be the temporal Head. Sur- 
 rounded as she was at that time by ministers whose ignorance 
 of the history of the Church, and misconceptions of its true 
 principles and constitution might, as he feared, prejudice her 
 mind with fatal errors on the subject, he conceived it to be his 
 duty, so far as in him lay, to prejudice her mind in favour of 
 the truth. 
 
 It would be needless in the present day, even if the sermon 
 were not accessible to all who may choose to refer to it, to 
 follow the preacher over well-known ground. That the Church 
 of England was not founded but reformed in the sixteenth 
 century ; that the Roman Catholics in England are descended 
 from a party who, in the reign of Elizabeth, quitted the Church 
 because they thought it was reformed too far, just as the Protes- 
 tant Dissenters quitted it because they thought it was not re- 
 formed far enough ; that the bishops of the English Church 
 trace their origin by a continuous succession back to the 
 Apostles, and hence claim to derive their authority from Christ
 
 2 $2 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1838.. 
 
 Himself ; — these are historical facts which are now familiar to 
 most well-educated persons. They were, however, startling to 
 some who heard them for the first time as they were announced 
 by the preacher in the Chapel Royal. They were disbelieved 
 or misunderstood ; by many they were misrepresented as defiant 
 assertions of exacting and overweening claims on the part of 
 the Church ; claims which, if pushed to extremity, might be 
 dangerous to the civil constitution. The consequence was that 
 the sermon became invested with an exaggerated importance 
 never expected, still less intended, by the preacher. The un- 
 necessary agitation, however, respecting it had the good effect 
 of leading thousands to read the sermon who otherwise would 
 never have even heard of it, and thus helped to spread far and 
 wide the truths which the writer so earnestly desired to propa- 
 gate. There are many who can date from the perusal of that 
 sermon an increase in their attachment to the Church, or the 
 creation of an attachment never felt before. There are many 
 who can remember how, for the first time, they perceived the 
 bearing on personal religion of right knowledge respecting the 
 •origin of the Church ; and many, too, can remember how a spirit 
 of zeal was kindled within them as they read these burning words 
 with which the sermon ends : — 
 
 Against the Church the world seems at this time to be set in 
 array. To be a true and faithful member of the Church requires 
 no little moral courage. Basely to pretend to belong to her, while 
 designing mischief against her in the heart — this is easy enough ; 
 but manfully to contend for her, because she is the Church, a true 
 Church, a pure Church, a holy Church— this is difficult to those who 
 court the praise of men or fear the censure of the world. May the 
 great God of Heaven, may Christ, the great Bishop and Shepherd 
 of souls, who is over all things in the Church, put it, my brethren, 
 into your hearts and minds to say and feel as I do, ' As for me and 
 my house we will live in the Church, we will die in the Church, and, 
 if need shall be, like our martyred forefathers we will die for the 
 Church.' 
 
 Earnest and decided Churchmen of course rejoiced in this 
 clear and courageous vindication in high places of the character
 
 -1840 Effects of Sermon. 253 
 
 of the Church. Letters of congratulation and gratitude poured 
 in from all directions. Dr. Doane, the American Bishop of 
 New Jersey, wrote that he had long been following the author 
 with his eye and heart as the able and fearless advocate of the 
 principles to which his life was pledged, that he secured with 
 eagerness all his publications as they came out, and he had 
 been so deeply impressed with this sermon that he had printed 
 it, and presented a copy to every clergyman in his diocese, and to 
 most of the leading laymen. 
 
 Henry, Bishop of Exeter, said he had read it with unmixed 
 gratification, and ' I heartily thank you,' he writes, ' for the 
 fidelity as well as the ability with which you have placed the 
 important subject before the mind of Her to whom of all others 
 it is of the highest consequence that the mighty truth should be 
 familiar.' He proceeds to say that he had at first understood 
 that her Majesty was displeased with the sermon, but had 
 since learned, from a quarter which could hardly be misinformed, 
 that this was not the case, but that she expressed herself in- 
 terested in the subject, and ' seemed to feel it to be new as well 
 as mof/iefitous.^ 
 
 The following letter to his wife shows how completely unpre- 
 pared the writer was for the commotion caused by the sermon. 
 
 10 Dean's Yard : June 20, 1838. 
 
 My dearest Love, ... It is quite astonishing what a noise my 
 poor sermon at the Chapel Royal has made ; there were some 
 thirty or forty peers unable to get in, and there were all kinds of 
 reports about what I said. Robert heard some one say yesterday- 
 at Lady Wcmyss's party, that nothing is talked about but the duel 
 (Lord C.'s about Grisi) and the sermon. The Bishop of London, 
 who was present, was very kind ; he told me at the levee (from 
 which I have just returned) that some persons about the Queen 
 wished to make out it was political, and he had just been sent for 
 to give his opinion. He asserted that there was not the slightest 
 allusion to politics, unless it were political to speak of the Church 
 of England as a true Church. The Uuke of Wellington spoke to 
 nic at the levde, and said he heard that I had preached a very fine 
 sermon last Sunday. The Archbishop of Canterbuiy apologised 
 for not having written to thank me for my ' Life of Hobart,' the
 
 254 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 1838- 
 
 preface to which he particularly liked. Sir John Beckett is kind- 
 ness itself; he introduced me to the Duke. All this seems to me 
 very strange, for I only preached that old Leeds sermon which you 
 remember. They say at the Carlton that the Queen was much 
 affected, and on returning home retired for about an hour ; if this 
 be true, one may hope that good has been done. 
 
 It will be seen also from this letter that the writer was led to 
 believe that no offence had been taken, where certainly no 
 offence was intended to be given. Nevertheless a report got 
 about that he had been forbidden to preach in the Chapel 
 Royal again. He wrote to the ' Times ' to contradict the truth 
 of the report, adding that he had not any reason to suppose 
 that her Majesty was otherwise than ])leased with the sermon. 
 
 In August 1838 he preached at the primary visitation of 
 Bishop Longley, held in Leeds ; taking as his text Acts vii. 26, 
 ' Sirs, ye are brethren : why do ye wrong one to another ? ' The 
 sermon was entitled ' A Call to Union on the Principles of the 
 English Reformation.' ' Some of the leading Evangelicals in 
 Leeds and elsewhere, as well as those journals which w'ere the 
 organs of the Evangelical school, ])ersisted in identifying him 
 with the writers of the Oxford Tracts, and further accused him 
 and them in common of being untrue to the principles of the 
 Reformation. Taking their stand upon the celebrated but 
 obscure saying of Chillingworth, ' The Bible and the Bible only 
 — the religion of Protestants,' as the cardinal principle of the 
 Reformed Church, the assailants vehemently denounced 
 the Tract writers and the Vicar of Leeds, on account of the 
 deference which they paid to the voice of the Church, as 
 expressed in the writings of the primitive Fathers, in the decrees 
 of General Councils, and in her ancient liturgies and creeds. 
 The aim of the Vicar in his ' Call to Union ' was to demonstrate 
 that this appeal to antiquity was the very principle upon which 
 the English Reformation was conducted, and that consequently 
 a departure from that principle was chargeable, not upon him- 
 self or upon the Tract writers, but upon their opponents. He 
 contended therefore that, however much members of the Church 
 
 * Printed in vol. i. of The Church and her Ordinances, p. 90.
 
 -1840 A call to Union. 255 
 
 might differ in opinions about details, they ought to find a prin- 
 ciple of union in the Ritual, Liturgy, and Articles of the Church, 
 because in deferring to them respect would be paid, not to the 
 judgment merely of individuals, such as Cranmer, Ridley, or 
 Parker, but to the traditional doctrine of the Universal Church as 
 it existed in those days when the Church was substantially one, 
 and a close correspondence on all vital matters was maintained 
 between the several branches of it. He earnestly exhorted all to 
 bear in mind that nothing could excuse the introduction of faction 
 and discord into the Church. The duty of every clergyman at 
 least was plain ; if he could not conscientiously conform to the 
 teaching and practice of the Church, he was free to withdraw ; 
 and, as an honest and honourable man, he was bound to with- 
 draw from her communion. 
 
 Remember (said he in conclusion) that if the propagation of 
 evangelical truth be one portion of our duty, it is no less our duty, 
 by the sacrifice of all personal considerations, . . . to preserve ' the 
 unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.' Remember that our 
 enemies are many and mighty ; the two extremes of Romanism 
 and ultra-Protestantism are banded together with infidelity against 
 us ; and if, like Samson's foxes, they are pulling different ways, the 
 brands which are attached have one and the selfsame object — our 
 destruction. And is this a time to divide our house, and to form 
 parties and factions ? 
 
 An extract from one of the notes to this sermon will present 
 to the reader a clear view of his attitude at that time towards 
 the Tract writers. Having pointed out that when Mr. VVilber- 
 force, in his later years, and sc^me of the more moderate leaders 
 of the Evangelicals, encouraged a spirit of deference to the 
 authoritative decisions of the Church of England, the question 
 then arose. What are Church principles ? Is any party con- 
 sistently acting upon them ? 
 
 At such a time (he proceeds) the celebrated Oxford Tracts 
 made their appearance. The reputed writers of the Tracts were 
 men of ardent piety, who had been attached to the Evangelical 
 school, and it was among the younger men who had been educated 
 in that school that they created a strong sensation. Hence, per-
 
 256 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1838- 
 
 haps, the bitterness with which they are assailed by some of the 
 older partisans of that section of the Church. To those who, like 
 the present writer, had been educated strictly on the principles of 
 the English Reformation, and belonged to the old orthodox school, 
 they brought forward nothing new ; and though we may have de- 
 murred to some of their opinions, and have thought that in some 
 things they were in an extreme, we rejoice to see right principles 
 advocated in a manner so decided, and in a spirit so truly Chris- 
 tian. ... I am not oix; of those who would say, ' Read the Oxford 
 Tracts, and take for granted every opinion there expressed ; ' but 
 1 am one of those who would say, ' Read and digest these Tracts 
 well, and you will have imbibed principles which will enable you to 
 judge of opinions.' Their popularity will increase, since their argu- 
 ments are not answered or their statements confuted : they are 
 opposed simply by railing. And those who judge of such things 
 only by second-hand reports and garbled quotations, and anony- 
 mous misrepresentations in newspapers, will of course rail on. 
 May the day come when they may be awakened to a sense of the 
 danger of thus violating the golden rule of charity. In the mean- 
 time the wise, the candid, those who are not the mere partisans of 
 religion, but really religious, will themselves read the Tracts ; and 
 if they do read they will commend. They may censure particular 
 opinions, but they will commend tlic whole. 
 
 These remarks may have been partly due to a long letter 
 received from Dr. Pusey a short time before, in which, after 
 showing how seriously the intentions of the Tract writers were 
 misunderstood and maligned, he entreated the Vicar to befriend 
 them, as opportunities of so doing might occur. He had 
 pointed out in this letter tliat the Tracts did not profess to be 
 tests of Catholicity, but only guides to it; and as such he hoped 
 that the Vicar would be able to give them a general support. 
 'As for your being a disciple of us,' he continued, 'the thing 
 is absurd. Newman said that you had formed your views long 
 before many of the writers — long before myself, upon many 
 points.' 
 
 But what more especially provoked him to make this 
 defence of the Tract writers was the violent denunciation which 
 had been lately flung at their i)roductions (more especially the
 
 -1840 The ' Tracts for the Tiines^ i^y 
 
 * Remains of Mr. Hurrell Froude ') from the University pulpit 
 by the Margaret Professor of Divinity at Oxford. In a note he 
 remarks : 
 
 . . . The present discourse is sufficient to show that I am not 
 any more than Dr. incHned to approve of Mr. Froude's ' Re- 
 mains.' I deeply, indeed, regret the pubhcation of that work with- 
 out a protest on the part of the editor against the author's many 
 paradoxical positions. With a kind heart, and glowing sensi- 
 bilities, Mr. Froude united a mind saturated with learning, but 
 from its very luxuriance productive of weeds together with many 
 flowers. Though he always took an original, he sometimes took a 
 morbid, view of things, and while from his writings all must deri\e 
 much food for thought, from many of his opinions the majority of 
 his readers will, like myself, dissent. But if, in contemplating the 
 evils inseparable from a great movement, he does not sufficiently 
 appreciate (and I think he does not) the wisdom of our Reforma- 
 tion or the virtues of many of our Reformers ; if, while condemning 
 the Romish, he censures the English, Church, we may think him 
 to be in error in these particulars without condemning him whole- 
 sale. Still less ought those persons to condemn him for not fully 
 appreciating our Reformation who consider the work of the Re- 
 formers in retaining our present Baptismal Service ' a burthen 
 hard to bear,' and the service ' an absurdity which they do not 
 
 believe in their hearts.' Had Dr. contented himself with 
 
 writing a pamphlet or a review, while we might have considered 
 him incompetent to sit in judgment on such a mind as Mr. Froude's, 
 we should have had no cause of complaint. But cause of com- 
 plaint the Church has when he makes one work a pretext for 
 attacking certain of his clerical brethren ^v'hose learning he may be 
 unable to appreciate, but whose piety and zeal he would do well to 
 imitate. . . . 
 
 After this note had gone to the press the charge of the 
 Bishop of Oxford (Dr. Bagot) was published; and the Vicar 
 added some remarks upon it, contrasting its sober judgments, 
 wise counsels, and affectionate fatherly tone with the indiscri- 
 minating invectives of the Margaret Professor. 'The Bishop,' 
 
 he observed, ' had a right to do what Dr. had no right to 
 
 do; his lordship had a right to pronounce sentence ex cat/iedn'i, 
 after examination, on the conduct and doctrines of his clergy, 
 
 S
 
 258 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 1838- 
 
 among whom are the writers of the Oxford Tracts.' And he 
 then gives some extracts from the charge, in which the Bishop 
 declares that, after diUgent inquiry, he had been unable to find 
 anything in the conduct or writings of the persons alluded to 
 which could fairly be interpreted as breaches of the doctrine or 
 discipline of the Church of England. 
 
 The Bishop, in the difficult and delicate situation which he 
 then occupied in relation to the Tract writers, was very grateful 
 to the Vicar of Leeds for the line adopted in his sermon, and 
 more particularly for the support given to the Charge, which, 
 notwithstanding the gentleness of its tone, some of the Tract 
 writers were disposed to think implied so much disapproval 
 of the Tracts, that the publication of them ought to be dis- 
 continued. 
 
 I have read your sermon (wrote the Bishop) with the greatest 
 pleasure and satisfaction, agreeing entirely with all you say through- 
 out, and I feel much indebted to you for the note respecting my 
 late Charge. It will do more than anything else could have done 
 to quiet and satisfy the minds of those excellent men (some I may 
 call friends) whose high principles of obedience to authority, but 
 whose over-sensitiveness made them apprehensive that my Charge 
 might be construed (but surely only by perversion) into a censure 
 upon the Tracts, and make them liable to a charge of inconsistency 
 if they did not discontinue the publication. 
 
 By a private correspondence with Dr. Pusey and Mr. Newman 
 I sufficiently satisfied their minds to induce them not to adopt such 
 a course, and that nothing could be further from my wish than to 
 cast a general censure upon the work. I merely state this to prove 
 to you how very valuable to them such a note as you have kindly 
 added with reference to my Charge was, and how peculiarly well- 
 timed. 
 
 The sermon gave great satisfaction not only to the Bishop 
 of Oxford and the Tract writers, but also to a large body of 
 moderate Churchmen. 
 
 On the other hand, the ultra-Protestant section of the 
 Church could not forgive him for having demonstrated that 
 they, and not the high Churchmen, were unfaithful to the spirit 
 of the Reformation; and their journals and reviews discharged
 
 -1840 Hurricane at Leeds. 259 
 
 a volley of attacks upon the sermon, more distinguished for 
 acrimony of tone and vehemence of language than for weight 
 of learning or strength of argument. 
 
 From those storms of controversy which are the products 
 of human infirmity and passion, it is rather a relief to turn for 
 a moment to an account of one of those convulsions of nature 
 for which man is not responsible. One night, in the month of 
 January 1839, a tempest of extraordinary fury raged over tlie 
 North of England. The Rev. H. W. Bellairs was on a visit to 
 the Vicar of Leeds, and has kindly supplied me with his re- 
 miniscences of the storm. Early in the morning, above the 
 roaring and raving of the wind, he heard a terrific crash, and 
 on opening his bedroom door discovered that a part of the roof 
 was blown away ; and the strange creaking and cracking sounds 
 throughout the house led him at first to imagine that the hurri- 
 cane was accompanied by an earthquake. 
 
 I went downstairs (he writes) and, hearing voices, followed them 
 to a room on the basement, where I found the Vicar with a child 
 on either knee, his servants, and a captain of artillery, who was 
 staying in the house, standing round him. The Vicar was per- 
 fectly unmoved ; calming, comforting, and reassuring all with those 
 words of faith, hope, and love which none knew better than himself 
 how to use. Whilst we were there another fearful crash came, 
 breaking through the roaring of the wind, which even in the house 
 was overpowering. In a few minutes some one came in, I think 
 from the next house, saying that a chimney there had fallen through 
 the roof, burying two female servants in its ruins, and that the 
 master of the house was in the street utterly beside himself. The 
 Vicar put down the children, went to the window, and saw the 
 poor fellow clinging to some iron railings opposite the Vicarage. 
 The storm was raging with such violence that it was almost 
 impossible for anyone to stand unaided. The Vicar, however, 
 struggled across the road, got hold of the man and brought him 
 into the Vicarage, and calmed him until he was able to return to 
 his house. The quiet courage, strong faith, and affectionate 
 bearing of the Vicar in that hour of fear and peril, no one who 
 witnessed it can ever forget. 
 
 The following letter from him to Mr. ^^'ood is a vi\id 
 description of the hurricane : —
 
 26o Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1838- 
 
 January 17, 1839. 
 My dearest Friend, — You have not I hope been visited with 
 that dreadful hurricane which alarmed us here in these northern 
 regions. Never did I hear wind blow as the wind blew on the 
 morning of last Monday se'nnight. The beds rocked under us^ 
 and a tremendous crash was heard ; when Delicia begged me to ga 
 upstairs, and bring the children down to our own room. Imagine 
 my horror, when, as I approached the stairs I heard screams ; and 
 imagine my joy when I counted my children and found none 
 wanting, at the time when the wind pierced me to the very bones^ 
 blowing upon me from the open sky, for the roof of the day-nursery 
 had fallen in with a terrific crash. No one in that room could 
 have escaped with life. In the very next room our dear little 
 Jemmy was asleep ; and the darling girls in the room adjoining 
 that. Two hours later, for the downfall happened at six o'clock, 
 they would have been dressing in the day-nursery, and must have 
 perished. Three stacks of chimneys were blown down in our 
 house. How little we value the blessings which appear to Ije 
 common blessings — health and peace — till we lose them. How 
 applicable to the circumstances of the storm is the twenty-ninth 
 Psalm. I read it afterwards at my family prayers, and preached 
 on it last Sunday. It was indeed merciful that in all Leeds only 
 one life was lost. 
 
 The year 1839 was a critical one for the Church in respect 
 to the question of National Education. The ' Central Society 
 of Education ' was pressing its demands for a secular system^ 
 under which religious instruction of any kind should be abso- 
 lutely forbidden, while the Government in February proposed 
 its scheme for the establishment of a Board of Education, and 
 of a model or normal school, with teachers of divers religious 
 persuasions, and a Rector of no religion in particular. The 
 Board, which was to consist of the President of the Council 
 and five other privy councillors, did not need any Act to call 
 it into being ; and thus that remarkable dynasty known by the 
 title of 'my lords,' whose wonderful and inscrutable decrees 
 are a source of annual amazement to school managers, came 
 into existence at once. The remainder of the measure parsed 
 the House of Commons by a majority of two in the morth of
 
 -1840 National Education. 2b i 
 
 June, but in the House of Lords a series of resolutions, to be 
 embodied in an address to the Crown against the Bill, was 
 moved by Archbishop Howley, supported by Bishop Blomfield 
 in one of the ablest speeches he ever delivered, and carried by 
 a large majority. 
 
 The interval between the first proposal of the scheme in 
 February and the debates in June was occupied by Churchmen 
 in great efforts, both to convince the public mind of the work 
 •which the Church had already accomplished in the cause of 
 national education, and to devise plans for enabling her to 
 strengthen and extend her operations. The Vicar threw him- 
 self into this work with immense energy. He foresaw indeed 
 that the day was not far distant when the State would be 
 compelled to undertake the education of the people, and he 
 also perceived that in a country where the forms of religious 
 belief were so manifold as in England, the only education 
 which the State could provide, consistently with discharging its 
 duty towards the whole population, must be of a purely secular 
 kind. But at present he did not very frequently or publicly 
 enlarge upon this topic. Meanwhile there were two calamities 
 which he exceedingly dreaded, and laboured most sedulously, 
 as far as in him lay, to avert. One was the appropriation by 
 the State of ecclesiastical property, at the instigation of Socialists, 
 to the purposes of secular education. This, as has been seen, 
 was the topic on which he more especially dilated in his speech 
 at the Conservative banquet in 1838. The other was the ac- 
 ceptance by the Church of any specious offer from the State of 
 some diluted form of religious education, which he was con- 
 vinced would be a mere counterfeit — a system under which 
 children would receive only vague and indistinct ideas about 
 religious truths, and consequently grow up into 'nothingarians.' 
 The honesty and thoroughness of his nature, and his firm 
 persuasion that clear dogmatic teaching was the only guarantee 
 for sound morality, the only solid platform upon which it could 
 be built up, revolted against the notion of any compromises and 
 cheats in connexion with this matter. As an escape from such 
 evils he had already conceived in his mind the germ of that
 
 262 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1838- 
 
 bold and original scheme, which, eight years afterwards, he 
 formally propounded in his celebrated letter to the Bishop of 
 St. David's. The outlines of it are sketched in the following 
 letters, written at the close of 1838, to Mr. Wood. Let the 
 State undertake the secular part of education, which is all that 
 it can honestly and consistently undertake, and let the Church 
 and the sects undertake the religious part, the State taking care 
 that all have a fair field. Such were the ideas already working 
 in his mind, which were afterwards developed in the pamphlet 
 to which allusion has just been made. 
 
 Edtica/ion Scheme. 
 
 I am still sadly in want of some one to manage the educational 
 affairs of this parish ; if you hear of any enthusiast, pray tell me of 
 him. All I should require would be, his having Church principles. 
 On the subject of education, I have been thinking more of late, 
 and am in correspondence on the subject with some influential 
 people. My advice is, to find from all parties what concessions 
 can be made without sacrifice of principle. I propose a measure, 
 which is this : that a board of education be formed in eveiy parish ; 
 the Incumbent chairman, his curates ex-officio members, and a 
 certain number of ratepayers to complete the board. If pressed, I 
 would concede that Dissenting ministers, resident in the parish 
 three years, should also be members. The board to have power to 
 lay a rate, and to decide on the books to be used ; no direct re- 
 ligious instruction to be given ; but no child to be admitted who 
 cannot bring a certificate of being a member of some Sunday- 
 school where religious instruction is given. Absence for three 
 .Sundays from Sunday-school, without leave, to be punished by- 
 three months' expulsion from National-school. Each clergy-man, 
 or Dissenting minister, to be permitted to attend on Fridays to 
 instruct his own children ; a separate room to be provided for the 
 purpose. A normal school to be established in London for 
 training masters by Government, under directors ; the two Arch- 
 bishops, and Bishops of London, Durham, and Winton, directors 
 always ; the rest to be appointed by Government, provided that 
 they appoint five Dissenting ministers. You see we here provide 
 for general education, and yet assert the necessity of religious 
 educati"on. Probably we shall have to define religious education 
 to be Biblical, or the Socialists may so denominate their system.
 
 -1840 Dr. Hook's Scheme. 26 
 
 v> 
 
 Education Scheme — A New Magazijie — Parochial Readhig Rooms. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : November 28, 1838. 
 
 My dearest Friend, . . . Anything like a semi-religious educa- 
 tion I deprecate, but I have no objection to let the State train 
 children to receive the religious education we are prepared to give ; 
 the State at the same time insisting on their coming to us for the 
 purpose. But of course, on consideration, I shall not propound my 
 plan to anyone ; being not a little surprised to find that I am more 
 liberal than that odious Whig fellow, William Wood. I cannot 
 help suspecting that evil communications with you corrupted my 
 good manners. I am, however, delighted to find that our senti- 
 ments so entirely accord with respect to education : our principle 
 is, I see, precisely the same ; only I, in despair, was prepared to 
 make a larger sacrifice than you think quite necessary. I rejoice 
 to know this. Only let us have anything rather than a mutilated 
 Bible, a semi-religion, which is worse than an avowedly Infidel 
 education ; worse, because it leads to the same end without causing 
 that alarm which the avowal of Infidelity would excite. 
 
 At present his School Board scheme was only whispered to 
 intimate and confidential friends as a kind of esoteric doctrine. 
 The disclosure of it would have been too rude a shock to the 
 feelings of those who still clung to the belief that the Church, 
 being called the National Church, was not only bound to 
 educate the whole people but was competent to discharge the 
 task. The immediate duty of Churchmen he considered at 
 that time was obvious : namely, to make the most of their 
 opportunities, to show that they could at least take the lead m 
 the work of national education, and so to deepen the claim of 
 the Church upon the gratitude of the nation. The establish- 
 ment of local boards of education in populous places would, 
 he thought, assist in the consolidation and extension of the 
 Church's educational work, and he was therefore anxious to 
 form one with as little delay as possible for the parish of Leeds. 
 
 Accordingly, on March 14, 1839, a large meeting was held 
 in the Music Hall, the Bishop of Ripon being in the chair, to 
 take steps for the purpose. The Vicar made a long and 
 elaborate speech on the occasion.
 
 264 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 1S38- 
 
 He began by observing that, as he was addressing an 
 assembly of Churchmen, he should assume as a fact indisput- 
 able among themselves that no education could deserve the 
 name which was not based upon religion. If education con- 
 sisted in training up a child in the way he ought to go, no 
 Christian man could venture to suppose that this end would be 
 accomplished unless religious principles were brought, indirectly 
 at least, to bear upon all the instruction given. If this were 
 acknowledged, it clearly behoved Churchmen at that crisis to 
 bestir themselves. 
 
 We must offer to the country the best possible education, or the 
 State will take the duty of education upon itself; and if the State 
 does this it must eventually adopt a purely secular education — an 
 education not based upon religion. The only country in which a 
 State education is consistently conducted is Holland, and there 
 religion is avowedly excluded. It must be obvious that when a 
 State undertakes the education of the people it cannot make 
 religion its basis. It may pretend to do so at first, but the State 
 religion will be found on investigation to be no religion. Let us 
 suppose the State were at the present time to undertake the educa- 
 tion of the people — let us suppose it to concede the principle that 
 education must be based on religion — the question immediately 
 occurs, on what religion is it to be based ? Shall it be the religion 
 of the Church of England ? If so, no change is necessary. But a 
 change is demanded to meet the views of those who dissent from 
 the Church. The State, it will be said, is to provide for the edu- 
 cation of all the people. Well, then, let us now ask, is the education 
 to be exclusively Protestant ? No, not if the principle is adhered 
 to, for that would exclude the Romanists. Carry on the principle, 
 and we may ask, again, is the education to be Christian 1 If In- 
 fidelity prevails (and, alas ! it does prevail to a fearful extent), Jews, 
 Turks, and Infidels will all demand that the education of the coun- 
 try shall be so conducted as not to exclude them. And then what 
 is the religion on which the State education is based ? It certainly 
 looks as much like no religion as possible. I do not say that this 
 will be the immediate consequence of a State education, but it is 
 its direct tendency. As soon as the State undertakes to control 
 religion, religion must be corrupted, for it will then cease to be 
 busied with God's truth and will be dabbling with expediency.
 
 -1840 speech on Education. 265 
 
 The question will be, not what does the all-pure and all-perfect 
 ■God command, but what will man — fallen, corrupted, wicked man 
 — consent to receive. 
 
 He then entered into some statistics to prove the extent to 
 which, at that time, the Church was discharging her duty in 
 respect of national education, especially as compared with the 
 various nonconforming communities. 
 
 Of daily scholars above the age of seven there 
 
 were in Dissenting Schools .... 47,287 
 Of Sunday scholars in the same . . . 550,107 
 Total of all ranks and descriptions in 
 
 Dissenting Schools .... 597,394 
 
 In schools connected with the Church there were : — 
 Of daily scholars in Grammar Schools and 
 
 Colleges 603,428 
 
 In elementary schools connected with the 
 National Society, which was established by 
 Churchmen in 181 1 514,450 
 
 Total of daily scholars .... 1,117,878 
 
 Sunday scholars only, in Church Schools . . 435,550 
 Total of all ranks and descriptions in 
 
 Church Schools 1,553,428 
 
 * We may, then,' he said, ' fairly assert that w^e -have the 
 education of the people in our hands ; and why should it be 
 taken away from us ? We have received no favour from 
 Government ; whatever money has been voted by Parliament 
 for educational purposes has been offered to the Dissenters 
 equally with ourselves. But the people flock to our schools.' 
 
 He then advocated the adoption of some plan of com- 
 pulsory education. 
 
 It is said that there are 1 12,035 children above the age of seven 
 iitterly destitute of any kind of education whatever. How can the 
 Church help that ? We open schools in all places, but we cannot 
 compel the parents to send their children to them. There is no 
 lack of means of education; the misfortune is that there arc 100,000 
 vicked parents who will not avail themselves of the means pro-
 
 266 Life of IValter Farqiihar Hook. 1838- 
 
 vided. How is this to be remedied ? It is said, by schools sup- 
 ported by Government. But why should those schools be more 
 likely to be attended than the existing schools ? Is the attendance 
 to be compulsory ? There is no need to establish Government 
 Schools on that account, for the children may be as well compelled 
 to attend existing schools as any other newly devised schools. 
 I do not mean that they should be compelled to attend Churck 
 Schools. Let the parents have the choice of the schools, but let 
 there be some law which will empower the magistrates to insist on 
 all children being sent to some school. If a parent neglects to 
 educate his child, he is doing an injury not only to the child but to 
 the community itself, which suffers from that child's ignorance and 
 vice. If the State may interfere for Xhc punish nicnt of crime it may 
 surely interfere for the prevcntio7i of crime ; it may surely take the 
 part of the poor neglected child when it exclaims, ' Save me from 
 my wicked parents. Compel them to give me that which I have a 
 right to demand at their hands — the means of becoming a good 
 man and a good Christian.' This is virtually the utterance of every 
 neglected child who is ciying in our streets. 
 
 The point in which he considered the work of education 
 at that time to be most deficient, and to which he earnestly 
 exhorted in his speech that more attention should be paid, 
 especially by the National Society, was the training of masters. 
 *The fault,' he said, 'of the National Society has been, not in 
 adhering^to Dr. Bell's system, but in making the observance of 
 that system the primary object of attention. The Society re- 
 cognises the duty of training masters, but it does not see that 
 this is the first and grand object. We want not systems but 
 masters.' 
 
 The resolution which he moved at the conclusion of his 
 speech was that a Local Board of Education, embracing all the 
 townships of the parish of Leeds, should be established. The 
 other resolutions passed at the meeting were : — 
 
 That the Board consist of all the clerg)^ officiating in the parish 
 of Leeds ; of a committee of laymen to be appointed by the Bishop :. 
 and of a secretary'. 
 
 That the Board be requested to take immediate steps : 
 
 I. To raise fresh subscriptions for the purpose of education.
 
 -1840 A Board of Education. 267 
 
 2. To promote the building of new National, Sunday, and Infant 
 Schools. 
 
 3. To unite with the Board existing Schools or Academies con- 
 ducted by members of the Church. 
 
 4. To ascertain the educational statistics of the parish. 
 
 5. To adopt measures for the formation of a Training School 
 for Masters. 
 
 6. To institute a commercial school which may serve as a model 
 school. 
 
 The Board of Education thus founded was the germ of the 
 Diocesan Board, which has been for nearly forty years the 
 principal instrument of elementary and middle-class education 
 throughout the Diocese of Ripon. 
 
 In the autumn of this year (1839) he published a pamphlet 
 entitled ' Presbyterian Rights Asserted.' It is a vindication of 
 the claims of the second order in the hierarchy to their due 
 share in the administration of the Church, against a tendency too 
 prevalent at that time, as he conceived, to the assumption of arbi- 
 trary power on the part of many of the Bishops. Even his own 
 diocesan, mild and amiable as he was, seemed to him occasion- 
 ally to err in this respect. The pamphlet was, I believe, the 
 only production which he ever published anonymously ; the 
 reasons for withholding his name in such a case being weighty 
 and obvious. In concentration of evidence, in force of reason- 
 ing, and in touches of humour, it has been surpassed by few, if 
 any, of his writings. 
 
 The present circumstances (he began) of the Church of England, 
 and her future prospects, render it highly important for the clerg)' 
 of the second order in the ministr)' to understand their real position 
 in the Church ; their duties and obligations to the first order on 
 the one hand, and their own rights and privileges on the other. 
 
 That a veiy general ignorance prevails on this subject it is im- 
 possible for anyone to doubt. By the generality of our legislators 
 it is unknown that we possess any peculiar rights and privileges ; 
 they regard us as mere servants of the State, and they look upon 
 the Bishops as magistrates to keep us in order. This, too, is per- 
 haps the view generally taken by those of the clergy who are desig- 
 nated Low Churchmen. . . . Some of those who arc styled Migb
 
 268 Life of Walter Farqtckar Hook. 1838- 
 
 Churchmen are apt to err in the opposite extreme. Being deeply 
 impressed with the divine right of Episcopacy, they forget that the 
 right of the Presbytery is equally divine, and draw the hasty con- 
 clusion that Episcopacy is a despotism, and that to the caprice of 
 their diocesan all the clergy of a diocese are bound without ques- 
 tioning to submit. ... I believe that, with very few exceptions, there 
 has never existed a body of men more desirous of doing their duty 
 than the existing Bishops of the Church of England. But their 
 notion of Episcopal duty varies considerably. Some appear among 
 us as spiritual peers, associating with the other clergy as the Lord- 
 Lieutenant of the county with the inferior magistrates. These are 
 generally the best, though not apparently the most active, Bishops 
 in the Church. They never needlessly interfere with the parochial 
 clergy, but are always willing to assist them ; they are great patrons 
 of learning and piety. Other prelates seem to regard themselves 
 as schoolmasters ; indeed, I have heard it said of a high Establish- 
 ment prelate that his notion of a Bishop is, that he is an examinmg 
 master plus a proctor. Others, again, consider the whole diocese 
 as one parish, and every parish priest as their curate ; thus re- 
 ducing the clergy in point of fact to two orders, bishop and deacon. 
 These are the most busy prelates ; but their activity, as we shall 
 see, is not always advantageous to the Church. They seem most 
 of them to have forgotten the authority, rights, and privileges of 
 the second order of the ministry, which possesses authority, rights, 
 and privileges scarcely inferior to their own. . . . 
 
 Now the present writer was a zealous supporter of Episcopacy 
 at a period when to speak of the Apostolical succession was looked 
 upon as a sign of dementation by many who are now the most able 
 advocates of the doctrine. . . . But he did this not from any ex- 
 clusive regard to the honours of Episcopacy. He was influenced 
 only by his love for the Church of Christ. ' Pro ecclesia Dei — pro 
 ecclesia Dei' was his motto then as it is now — the motto which he 
 hopes will cling to his parched lips as he breathes his last breath. 
 The well-being of the Church requires that dice honour should be 
 paid to the Episcopate ; but the well-being of the Church requires 
 that more honour Lhan is due to it should not be rendered. 
 
 He then proceeds to show tliat most evils arose in the body 
 ecclesiastical as in the body physical, or in the moral system, 
 from a disproportion between the parts. Lay influence had 
 undoubtedly of late been too great in the Church. Laymen
 
 -1840 The Rights of Presbyters. 269 
 
 had thrust themselves into the places of the clergy — sent forth 
 missionaries, done ministerial acts, and in turns were securing 
 to themselves by means of the five-trustee churches, the powers 
 exercised by the lay Dissenters, of whose tyranny the most 
 vehement advocates of schism among Dissenting preachers 
 loudly complained. To counteract this usurpation the clergy 
 had been zealous in pointing out the rights of Episcopacy, 
 until there was a risk of violating proportion in that direction. 
 It should be remembered that all members of the Church of 
 Christ, lay as well as clerical, were consecrated ; the laity at 
 baptism to preach the Gospel by a holy example. As heads of 
 families they inherited patriarchal rights ; they were to instruct 
 their households in the Gospel and minister at the domestic 
 altar. The Presbyter was ordained to preside over an assembly 
 of families, the Bishop over an assembly of parishes, the 
 jNIetropolitan over an assembly of dioceses. If the Presbyter 
 unduly interfered with the family arrangements, confusion 
 ensued ; a confusion also ensued if the Bishop unduly inter- 
 fered with the parochial arrangements. 
 
 The Bishop was a 7rar>)p Trartpwj', an episcopus episcoporum 
 (a father of fathers, an overseer of overseers). These were 
 their titles in the early ages of the Church ; high titles, but 
 titles which recognised the authority of the Presbytery. ' If the 
 Bishop be spiritual overseer to us let him not forget that we are 
 spiritual overseers to the laity : if he be a spiritual father to us 
 we are spiritual fathers to our people.' Did the Bishop in the 
 existing Church thus respect the authority of presbyters ? The 
 question was more easily asked than satisfactorily answered. 
 Straws showed which way the wind blew. At most visitations 
 the Bishop was to be seen sitting within the chancel while the 
 presbyters humbly stood outside. Yet by the fourth council of 
 Carthage it was decreed that, whenever the Bishop took his 
 seat, the presbyters should not be allowed to stand. 
 
 So again the episcopal charges of the day, though courteous 
 and kind in style, were rather the addresses of a magistrate to 
 his subjects than of a supreme ruler to his r^-rulers. And he 
 proceeds to prove, that in the ancient Church the presbyters
 
 270 Life of Walter FarqiLhar Hook. 
 
 18^8- 
 
 were regarded, not as the servants, but as the councillors and 
 coadjutors, of the Bishop. ' If we are to do nothing without 
 the Bishop, the Bishop is to do nothing without us.' 
 
 Yet in recent times this principle had been strangely for- 
 gotten alike by Bishops, presbyters, and laity. Take, for 
 instance, the composition of the Ecclesiastical Commission 
 appointed under Sir Robert Peel. How was it constituted ? 
 The laity of the Church were represented ; the first order of 
 the clergy were represented ; but of the second order not one 
 was called to the council : they were utterly disregarded. If 
 the laity and the Bishops agreed, the second order — the pres- 
 byters — were to be compelled to submit. 
 
 So again with the Church Discipline Bill. ' Facilities were 
 introduced for correcting delinquent clerks of the second order, 
 but not a word is said of facilitating actions against delinquent 
 clerks of the first order.' 
 
 So again it was said that the Dean and Chapter of a diocese 
 formed the ecclesiastical senate which the Bishop ought to 
 consult.^ Yet 'we never hear a Bishop stating in his charge 
 that, having consulted with his Dean and Chapter, he has 
 decided on this or that line of conduct in the government of 
 his diocese.' But, granting this to be a point which might 
 require further consideration, one thing at least was certain, 
 that if a Bishop ever consulted his presbyters he was bound 
 to do so when he entered their parishes for the discharge of 
 Episcopal offices. Yet there were some prelates who did not 
 hesitate to head a faction against the incumbent of the parish. 
 
 Let us suppose a hard-working painful parish priest to have 
 matured all his plans for the management of the parish, over which 
 the Holy Ghost has made him overseer; let us suppose him to 
 have united the Churchmen, always excepting a factious few ; to 
 have shown from Scripture and the teaching of the Church the 
 principle upon which he gives his support to some and withholds it 
 from other religious societies ; to have been proceeding cautiously, 
 introducing first one institution then another — we can easily under- 
 stand his feelings if all of a sudden he shall hear that the Dissenters, 
 
 1 Blackstone, bk. i. c. 11.
 
 -1840 The Rights of Presbyters. 271 
 
 having united with the factious few of the Church who happen to 
 be opposed to him, have determined to hold a meeting of the Bible 
 Society, or the Religious Tract Society, or the Lancasterian School 
 Society, or some similar institution, and that the Bishop, with- 
 out deigning to consult him or even to apprise him of his inten- 
 tions, will preside at it. The spiritual peer attends, accompanied 
 perhaps by one or two temporal peers and other great men desirous 
 to conciliate the Dissenters before the next election ; and thus he 
 who ought to be the centre of unity becomes the rallying point of 
 schism. The liberal sentiments of the spiritual peer are applauded 
 the more loudly because they are contrasted with the exclusive 
 Church principles of the -pastor of the parish ; and, as his lordship 
 passes through the street, his condescension on the platform to his 
 reverend brethren of the Baptist, Independent, and Unitarian 
 '• Churches ' is compared with the cold, distant bow with which, in 
 the embarrassment occasioned by some undeveloped consciousness 
 of having done wrong, he meets the minister of the Established 
 Church — that is, of the Church which, in common with his Inde- 
 pendent and Unitarian brethren, he does not regard as 'the Church 
 of the parish, but only as that one Church out of many which 
 happens to be established by law. And so all parties separate : 
 the Dissenters to laugh at 'the humbug of the Bishop's apron ;' the 
 factious Churchmen to eulogise the spirituality of the Episcopal 
 leader of their schism ; the spiritual peer to declaim to the temporal 
 peers on the extreme want of judgment in the incumbent of the 
 parish, who ought to concede something to the Dissenters, while 
 Iiis lordship is in turn congratulated on the popularity he is by his 
 liberality securing for ' the Establishment ; ' the profane to laugh at 
 the flooring of their pastor ; the worldly-minded to express their 
 indignation at the idea of an incumbent with only 150/. a year 
 thinking that the Church and her principles are dearer to him than 
 they are to a Bishop with 4,000/. a year ; the poor to lament the insult 
 offered to their best friend ; the presbyter himself to weep in private 
 and to pray ; and of prayer he will have ample need lest he should 
 be disgusted into inactivity. The true Churchmen also will grieve 
 in private and ask what ought to be done? . . . Now, it is one of 
 the objects of this pamphlet to let people see what ought to be done. 
 They ought to remonstrate. The presbyter should protest against 
 the invasion of his rights. He may even appeal to the Metropolitan. 
 I contend that he may do, that he ought to do, this on high Church 
 principles, ... It becomes us to assert the principle that the
 
 272 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1838- 
 
 Bishop has no right to enter into our parish, or to hold a meeting' 
 there, without having first consulted the incumbent and the other 
 clergy of the parish. If he do so he commits an act of schism. 
 Let no fear of being deemed unfilial deter us. If the Bishop be our 
 father the Church is our mother ; and if our father injure our mother 
 we must protect her even against him. I once heard of a man of 
 rank who was about to strike his wife. His son interposed, bound 
 his arms, and carried him out of the room, and then he immediately 
 loosed him and let him go. The father instantly raised his hand 
 to strike his son. The pious son put his hands behind him and 
 said, ' You may strike me if you will, I will bear it all ; but you 
 shall not strike my mother.' And so we must deal by our Bishop, 
 when he would damage the Church by violating her principles. 
 
 He concludes the pamphlet by afifirming that in all which 
 he had said he had not the least intention or desire to depress 
 the Episcopate. He would ever value a Bishop's blessing, ever 
 maintain the honour of the order ; but when Bishops were 
 tempted to assume authority which did not pertain to them, and 
 to apply to Parliament for the power of the sword, he would not 
 hesitate to apply to them the words of St. Jerome, ' Contenti sint 
 honore suo ; patres se sciant esse, non dominos, amari debent, 
 non timeri.' 
 
 In November of this year (1839) he attended a great meet- 
 ing at Manchester on behalf of the Society for the Propagation 
 of the Gospel. The local papers state that such a large 
 gathering for a religious purpose had seldom if ever been seen 
 in Manchester. The principal speakers were the Rev. Richard 
 Durnford, now Bishop of Chichester, the Rev. Hugh Stowell, 
 and the Vicar of Leeds. 
 
 The Vicar's speech occupied more than an hour, and the 
 glowing eulogies upon it with which the new'spapers abounded 
 for more than a week afterw^ards seem to prove that it was re- 
 garded as the speech of the evening. The most powerful and 
 telling part of the speech was that in which he justified the 
 Society's principle of attending first to the colonies and de- 
 pendencies of the English Empire, especially in India. 
 
 He maintained that the propagation of Christianity in India, 
 boldly and honestly, was a duty with which interest coincided :
 
 -1840 speech on India. 273 
 
 for he had the sagacity to foresee that the pusillanimous policy 
 adopted by the Indian government, of endeavouring to concili- 
 ate the goodwill of the people by patronising their heathenism, 
 and dissembling if not repudiating our own Christianity, was 
 fraught with peril to the stability of our tenure ; a presentiment 
 which was indeed fearfully verified by the outbreak of the 
 Indian mutiny in 1857. He spoke with eloquent indignation 
 on the subject at a meeting for the Society for Promoting 
 Christian Knowledge held in Leeds in the spring of 1840. 
 
 Till veiy lately (he said) no native convert could be employed 
 by the British Government, though the native idolater could. Is 
 this the way to support religion ? Look to the island of Ceylon. 
 When the Dutch were in possession they built churches and schools ; 
 but when England came into possession we thought that bad policy. 
 The churches were neglected, the schools were suffered to decline, 
 the former system of idolatry was re-established, and its priests had 
 increased salaries awarded. Those who would condemn a religious 
 establishment in England, who would diminish the income of the 
 Christian clergy, were found to advocate an idolatrous establishment 
 in Ceylon. And this was considered good policy. It is well in- 
 deed that we no longer profit by the pilgrim tax, but we still pay 
 6,000/. a year to support the old idol of Juggernaut. Look at what 
 was done last year. Nineteen of our soldiers refused to take part 
 in some Hindoo idolatrous ceremony : of these nineteen one was a 
 Mohammedan, the rest were Christians. They were all put under 
 arrest. The Mohammedan pleaded conscience, and he was suffered 
 to go free. The Englishmen pleaded conscience, too, but they were 
 put in prison : that is to say, those who were in authority feared the 
 Mohammedan population, but they did not fear the Christian's 
 God, who though unseen will surely punish.
 
 2 74 Z//^ of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1S38- 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PART II.: PAROCHIAL WORK AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 1838-1840. 
 
 The amount of confidence, respect, and affection which in less 
 than a year the Vicar of Leeds had won from large numbers of 
 his flock was truly wonderful. Yet there were tough battles 
 still to be fought, and several years had to pass before he could 
 secure for the Church in Leeds that supremacy which, through 
 his exertions, she ultimately enjoyed. 
 
 'You will find,' wrote the Bishop of London, in a letter 
 congratulating him on his election, ' a strong and not very 
 placable hostility to your teaching.' This prediction was fully 
 verified. The more ambitious partisans of the Evangelical 
 school and of Dissenting denominations were provoked to 
 jealousy, as they saw the importance of their party or sect 
 diminish day by day before the influence of their formidable 
 rival. Pious Protestants beheld with genuine alarm the rapid 
 growth of principles which, in their judgment, would inevitably 
 lead to Romanism. Was not the Vicar a friend of some of the 
 principal writers of those pestilent Tracts which were insidiously 
 undermining the pure Protestant faith of the Church of Eng- 
 land ? Was it positively certain that he had not a hand in the 
 production of the Tracts ? It was difficult to find any vulner- 
 able point of attack upon the authors, who wrote anonymousl)-, 
 and were, for the most part, living in seclusion within college 
 walls ; but the Vicar of Leeds, who, if not their colleague and 
 abettor might be certainly regarded as their representa'ave
 
 -1840 Troublesome Chtirchwardens. 275 
 
 in the sphere of parochial work, was a conspicuous mark to 
 aim at. 
 
 'You are, indeed,' wrote Mr. Newman from Oriel in the 
 spring of 1838, 'in the thickest fire of the enemy; and I often 
 think how easy it is for us to sit quietly here sheltered from 
 bullets while you often get what is meant to hit us.' It was 
 perfectly true. For the first three or four years from the 
 beginning of his ministry at Leeds, he received vicariously a 
 great many of the blows which the Protestant world would have 
 liked to bestow on the shoulders of the Tract writers if they 
 could have got at them. How far he agreed or disagreed witli 
 those writers Puritan adversaries were not careful to ascertain. 
 He was a friend of the Tractarians — that was quite enough. 
 His proceedings and utterances were, therefore, to be minutely 
 scanned. Any day he might wake up to find that, quite uncon- 
 sciously, he had said or done something which was represented 
 by the organs of the Puritan party in Leeds, and throughout 
 the country, as pernicious in the highest degree, and indicative 
 of a subtle purpose to corrupt the Church. 
 
 A singular specimen of such misrepresentation occurred in 
 the spring of 1838. Archdeacon Musgrave, happening to pay 
 the Vicar a visit, was requested by him to go into the church 
 to make an order for some new service books. On arriving at 
 the church they were met by four or five of the churchwardens, 
 who accompanied them to the vestry. Some of the church- 
 wardens here made a complaint to the Archdeacon that the 
 Vicar had wasted the parish property by pouring away some of 
 the consecrated wine, which ought to have been kept by them 
 to be consecrated again. The Vicar replied that it was impos- 
 sible for him to give back to the churchwardens that which had 
 once been consecrated as the blood of Christ. 
 
 This expression was repeated in Leeds and elsewhere until 
 it got into the newspapers, and, coupled with the Vicar's act of 
 pouring the remainder of the consecrated wine down the piscina, 
 was construed to imply a belief in a corporeal presence of 
 Christ in the elements. Of course the real facts of the occur- 
 rence became grossly exaggerated and perverted, as the tale 
 
 T 2
 
 276 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1838- 
 
 was handed about, and at length the A'"icar was induced to 
 vindicate himself by a letter to the ' British Magazine.' It is a 
 very remarkable example of the manner in which he was accus- 
 tomed to fortify his actions by basing them on precedent, and 
 of the great practical value of his extensive reading in following 
 out this wise course ; while the inimitable touch of humour in 
 the postscript is equally characteristic of the writer, and could 
 hardly have occurred to anyone but himself : — 
 
 To the Editor of the British Magazine. 
 
 April 5, 1833. 
 My dear Friend, ... It so happens that in the parish church 
 of Leeds I found the old Presbyterian way of administering the 
 Eucharist to prevail, introduced probably at the great Rebellion, 
 and never since discontinued. The consecrated Elements, instead 
 of being delivered to the communicants at the altar rails, are 
 carried to them in the pews. From this circumstance, when there 
 are five or six clergjanen officiating, as is generally the case with 
 us, if a sufficient quantity of wine has not been consecrated at first,, 
 it becom.es difficult for the presiding priest to know how much more 
 may be required at a second consecration. Now it so happened 
 that on the occasion to which I am alluding, when service was over 
 and all the people dismissed, it was discovered that in one of the 
 cups there remained nearly half-a-pint of consecrated wine. The 
 question then was, what was to be done with it, all the congregation 
 being gone. The churchwardens,^ of whom I think five were pre- 
 sent, demanded it as their right, and offered to put it back into the 
 bottle, and keep it till the next Communion. This I declined to do, 
 because it was evidently contrary to the rubric which enjoins that 
 the consecrated wine ' shall not be carried out of the church ; ' and 
 
 ' In tlie township of Leeds there are eight churchwardens, one appointed 
 by the vicar, the other seven by the parish — or, rather, by a mob collected 
 together on the occasion to offer every insult to the Church. The desecration 
 which has often taken place of the sacred building on these occasions is repre- 
 sented to me as awful. The spirit of the mob may be judged by the fact that, 
 on an offer having been made to give any guarantee that no Church rate would 
 be demanded if only they would elect Church people, the cry raised was : ' No ; 
 we have got you down, and we will keep ycu down 1 ' and persons from the 
 lowest dregs of society were selected, distinguished for nothing but their bitter 
 hostility to the Church.
 
 -1840 Letter on the Eiccharist. 277 
 
 because, knowing as I did, from the representations of the sexton, 
 that the churchwardens were accustomed to drink some of the 
 wine, provided for the Eucharist, in the vestry, I thought it not im- 
 probable that they might so dispose of even tlie consecrated Ele- 
 ments, for which they evidently entertained no respect. I ought to 
 mention that the churchwardens, except the one appointed by 
 myself, are at all events not Churchmen, and that, without com- 
 municating, they were in the habit of remaining in the vestry to 
 watch over the property of the parish, as they styled it, so that you 
 Avill not consider caution as unnecessary. 
 
 Thinking at the same time both to instruct and to conciliate them, 
 I remarked that all the wine offered at the oblation belonged by law 
 to me, and was generally given by me to the poor, but this I would 
 return to them in the present instance. ' As to what has been 
 consecrated as the blood of Christ, it is, I said, relatively holy, 
 and the blood of Christ I cannot give to you who have not been 
 communicants.' 
 
 Here I must pause, since I understand that, by Socinianising 
 Churchmen, offence has been taken at my speaking of the con- 
 secrated wine as the blood of Christ, as if by so doing I coun- 
 tenanced the dogma of Transubstantiation. Now those who hold 
 Socinian views of the Sacraments may be better logicians than I 
 am, but I must protest against their making me answerable for 
 their own conclusions. St. Chr)^sostom speaks of persons having 
 their lips tinged with the blood of Christ, and yet we know that he 
 did not hold the dogma of Transubstantiation, since he also spoke, 
 as we should do, of the consecrated wine as still wine. And also 
 our own Archbishop Cranmer, whose views of the Sacraments were 
 not considered very high, in the very year in which the Book of 
 Common Prayer, and the Administration of the Sacraments, trans- 
 lated, revised, and compiled, were received by Parliament, thus 
 remonstrated with the Devonshire rebels : ' Oh ! superstition and 
 idolatry, how they prevail among you ! The very true heavenly 
 bread of life offered unto you in the, Sacrament of the Holy Com- 
 munion, you refuse to eat but only at Easter. And the Ctcp of the 
 most Holy Blood wherewith you were redeemed and washed from 
 your sins, you refuse utterly to drink of at any time.' (Strype's 
 * Cranmer,' p. 820.) 
 
 I might refer to many or most of our great Divines for authority 
 in the use of the expression, but for those who reverence the Fathers, 
 or for those who respect the principles of the Reformation, I have
 
 278 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 
 
 said enough, or if they wish to see the subject more fully stated — if 
 they wish to see what is the Anglo-Catholic doctrine of the 
 Eucharist — I will recommend them to Palmer's ' Treatise on the 
 Church of Christ,' part ii. chapter vii., a work which it would be 
 superfluous to praise. 
 
 Having decided, then, not to return the consecrated wine to the 
 churchwardens, I might have given it to the clergy who were pre- 
 sent, but there was even then more than we could convenientl)- 
 consume, and I feared that the churchwardens would have imme- 
 diately written to the newspapers to attack the character of the 
 clerg)^, if not exaggerate the quantity thus employed. To primitive 
 precedent under such circumstances it was necessaiy to refer, and 
 I happened to remember that Hesychius, a presbyter of the Church 
 of Jerusalem in the fifth century, in his comment on Leviticus, says : 
 'God commanded the remainder of the flesh and blood to be burnt 
 with fire. And we now see with our own eyes the same thing done 
 in the Church. Whatever happens to remain of the Eucharist 
 unconsumed^ ive ivimcdiately consume ■with fire, and that not after 
 one, two, or many days, but immediately.' ' From hence,' says 
 Bingham, 'our learned writers observe two things : i, that it was 
 not the custom of the Church of Jerusalem to reserve the Eucharist 
 so much as from one day to another, though they did in some 
 churches ; 2, that they certainly did not believe it to be the natural 
 body and substance of Christ, but only His typical or symbolical 
 body ; for what a horrible and sacrilegious thing must the very 
 Jews and heathen have thought it, for Christians to bum the living 
 and glorified body of their God .■' And how must it have scandalised 
 simple and plain Christians themselves to have seen the God they 
 worshipped burned in the fire ? ' 
 
 I do not undertake to defend the kind of argument here used 
 by Bingham, but I quote the passage to show that the fact of my 
 intending to consume the Elements by fire ought, on their own 
 line of argument, to have convinced Socinianising Christians that I 
 do not hold the dogma of Transubstantiation, though I do regard 
 what has once been consecrated as the body and blood of my 
 Saviour as relatively holy, not to be given to non-communicants, 
 and not to be used — as Justin Martyr expresses it — as ' common 
 bread or co7nmo7i wine.' To this ancient precedent I had also the 
 power of adding a modern one. The late Bishop of Hereford, Dr. 
 Grey, acted precisely thus in St. Margaret's Church, Westminster, 
 not ver)- long before his death. Some of the consecrated Elements
 
 -1840 Lettei" on the EtLcharist. 279 
 
 having been left, and all the communicants being withdrawn, he 
 consumed them in the fire. But in the present instance, it being 
 summer time, there was no fire in the vestr}'. I could only there- 
 fore explain that this would have been the course I preferred to 
 adopt, if there had been a fire. And I had again to refer to pre- 
 cedent. Now it is well known that in many of our churches is still 
 to be found a piscina, a place appointed for the pouring away of 
 the unconsumed consecrated wine. And although this has 
 not been frequently used since the Reformation, the more 
 proper custom being for the communicants to eat and drink what 
 is left, yet the intention of our Church is evident in an extreme case 
 like the present, since she has not prohibited the ancient practice, 
 while she enjoins that nothing be taken out of the church. In my 
 church there was no piscina, and therefore I made one for the occa- 
 sion and poured away the wine at the side of the chancel. If any- 
 one says that he thinks I ought to have returned the consecrated 
 wine to the bottle, taking care of it myself against the next Com- 
 munion, he is veiy welcome to his opinion. But for his opinion 
 what precedent can he produce ? For my opinion and proceeding 
 I can produce precedent, and therefore my opinion is at least better 
 founded than his, unless he also can refer, as I think he cannot, to 
 some higher authority than his own conjectures ; and even then how 
 would he accord with the rubric which directs that the consecrated 
 wine shall not be taken out of the church } I am aware that some 
 persons who do not hold Socinian notions with respect to the 
 Sacraments are inclined to regret the occurrence, however much 
 they may approve of my conduct. I confess that I do not. In this 
 part of England Socinian views of the Sacraments prevail to a 
 lamentable extent. The verj^fact that the present subject has been 
 talked of, the very fact that it has subjected me to the ridicule and 
 abuse of Socinianising Christians, has done good ; it has made 
 many reconsider their opinions ; it has consequently increased my 
 number of communicants ; it has caused them to enquire whether 
 the Eucharist is not something more than a bare commemoration 
 — a kind of superior and more exciting class-meeting, a mere love- 
 feast ; and many I know have embraced the scriptural doctrine 
 that ' the bread which we break is the communication of the Body 
 of Christ, ajid the cup which we bless the communication of the 
 Blood of Christ.' 
 
 Believe me to remain yours very truly.
 
 28o Life of Walter'- Farquhar Hook. 1838- 
 
 P.S. When I speak of that class of persons represented by the 
 * Patriot,' the ' Record,' &c., as Socinianising Christians, I deal 
 with them as they deal with Churchmen. They contend that 
 Church principles lead to Popery : therefore, trusting to the in- 
 faUibility of their logic, they call us Papists. Now, we think that 
 it is only their ignorance of this logic which prevents their perceiv- 
 ing how their principles, if properly carried out, lead on to 
 Socinianism. 
 
 It is, therefore, on the same principle that we call them 
 Socinians as they call us Papists. I will avail myself of the 
 opportunity to remark, also, that it is a mistake to speak of a con- 
 troversy between High Churchmen and Low Churchmen ; the con- 
 troversy really is between Churchmen and yV<?-Churchmen, though 
 the No-Churchmen have not actually quitted the Church. For 
 what are called Low Churchmen are men who deny the visibility of 
 the Church ; they are therefore either No-Churchmen or Invisible- 
 Chterchfnen, as they please. 
 
 The following letters, addressed by the Vicar to his church- 
 warden, to be communicated to the others, have a bearing on 
 the subject to which the above extract relates, and are curious 
 specimens of the dignified, courteous tone, yet mingled with an 
 undertone of good-natured satire, which he adopted towards 
 that intractable set of men : — 
 
 To Mr. Garla?7d, Vicar's Churchwarden. 
 
 My dear Sir, — You will oblige me by making the following pro- 
 positions to the parish churchwardens, by acceding to which they 
 will save the parish some expense and the clergy much annoyance, 
 while they will materially benefit the poor. 
 
 I propose to supply the bread and wine for the Holy Communion 
 myself, and at my own expense ; on condition that the money given 
 at the offertory is always paid over to the lecturer, the curate, 
 and the clerk in orders, to be by them disposed of to such chari- 
 table uses as they may think proper ; the churchwardens annually 
 auditing their accounts. You must be well aware that under the 
 present arrangement (the churchwardens being permitted to have 
 the disposal of one-half of the money collected) the communicants 
 always contribute the least sum they decently can. The money
 
 -iS4o Letters to Churchwardens. 281 
 
 collected will be greatly increased when the communicants are 
 satisfied that it will be disposed of in a manner they may approve. 
 I beg you to assure the churchwardens that I do not wish in the 
 slightest degree to insinuate that they expend the money improperly, 
 but they will themselves admit that it is natural for Churchmen to 
 feel an unwillingness to place their alms at the disposal of persons 
 Avhose recommendation to the office of churchwardens was their 
 hostility to the Church. Believe me to be, my dear Sir, 
 
 Yours very truly. 
 
 My dear Sir, — I received a note yesterday from Mr. Kettlewell, 
 making some proposal for a collection to defray the expenses for 
 the services at the parish church, and I shall feel obliged to you if 
 you will state distinctly to the churchwardens that this is a business 
 in which I, as Vicar, am in no way concerned. 
 
 On my freehold property the parish church, the parishioners 
 have certain rights, and in order to maintain those rights it is neces- 
 sary for them to incur a certain expense. If they neglect to do 
 this, and thus lose their rights which the churchwardens are elected 
 to maintain, they will be the losers, not I. It is the right of the 
 parishioners at large to attend public worship whenever it is solem- 
 nised in the parish church, and for this purpose the whole area of 
 the church is left open ; and it is to maintain this right for the 
 Community that the friends of the poor are opposed to the volun- 
 tary principle, and desire that certain expenses should be incurred 
 by the parish generally. 
 
 It must be evident to the churchwardens that to me, personally, 
 it can signify nothing whether the parish church is closed or not. 
 It will not diminish anything from my income, and with respect to 
 my ministerial duties, there are many chapels of ease in which I 
 can officiate. I am ready to do my duty in the parish church, if the 
 parishioners think proper to make the necessary provision, not for 
 my convenience, but for their own. 
 
 Under thcge circumstances the churchwardens will act as they 
 think best. 1 will neither assist nor oppose them. The whole 
 business rests with them, and not with me, and all that I shall do 
 is to take care that neither directly nor indirectly I sanction the 
 voluntary principle. To that principle I am opposed as a friend 
 to the poor, whose true friend I hope always to be. Believe me to 
 be, my dear Sir, 
 
 Yours \ery truly.
 
 282 Lif^ of Walter Farqtthar Hook. i! 
 
 The following letters are a lifelike record of his parochial 
 work during the first three years of his ministry. Little need 
 be added to them. I'he v.ondcr is that, besides doing so much 
 work, he could find time to write long letters about it. The 
 ordinary pastoral duty of visiting the sick was exceedingly heavy 
 at all times, but especially during the first two years of his 
 incumbency, before he had been able to surround himself 
 with a large staff of curates. The preparation also of candidates for 
 confirmation was a very arduous task, the work having been so 
 much neglected in former times. A confirmation was held in 
 1840 at Leeds, at which upwards of 1,000 candidates were pre- 
 sented. The Vicar had 256 in his own classes, and of these 
 more than forty were persons above thirty years of age who had 
 been Dissenters. ' These, as you may suppose,' he says in a 
 letter to a friend, 'are very out-and-out Churchmen.' He was 
 amazed at the extraordinary ignorance of the simplest truths 
 amongst youths and girls in middle-class schools, some of them 
 not even knowing what events were commemorated on Easter 
 Day and Whitsun Day. Yet he was never depressed in spirit 
 or wearied by the work, but thoroughly enjoyed it. 'Of all 
 the happiest employments,' he says in a letter written about 
 this time, 'of a pastor's life, the happiest is that of preparing 
 young people for confirmation. I do love to be in communion 
 with youthful minds. I can thoroughly enter into their feelings 
 and ditificulties. In fact, I do not feel quite at home with 
 persons after twenty-two, for, to tell the truth, I do not ever 
 feel that I am a day older than that — I feel myself to be what 
 my wife calls me, only an overgrown boy.' 
 
 Besides starting two magazines, to which reference is made 
 in the ensuing letters, he published a letter to his parishioners. 
 on the Athanasian Creed. His object was to prove that for every 
 statement in the creed Scriptural authority could be produced; 
 that the creed only afiirmed what Scripture affirmed, and that 
 consequently the difficulties of the creed were not greater than 
 the difficulties of those passages in Holy Scripture upon which 
 the assertions in the creed were based ; and further, that these 
 difficulties were in both cases, alike in the creed and in Holy
 
 -1840 Sunday Schools. 28 
 
 »> 
 
 Writ, capable of solution. Tlie method which he adopted was 
 to place in three parallel columns the text of the creed, the 
 Scriptural warrants for each clause, and explanatory notes. The 
 tract had a great sale, 5,000 copies being sold soon after it 
 appeared, and it has been largely used from that time to this. 
 
 He considered the work of catechising so important, and at 
 the same time so severe a strain upon the strength of the 
 clergy in addition to their other duties on Sunday, that, as will 
 be seen in the letter to Mr. Gladstone, he was anxious to secure 
 some man who would act as chief catechist and overseer of 
 the Sunday schools for the whole parish. The Sunday schools, 
 indeed, were, during the first two or three years, a source of 
 much trouble to him. A parochial association of the Sunday 
 schools, which had been formed before he became vicar, under 
 the notion that the richer districts would support the poorer,, 
 did not work well. The committee was an elective body diffi- 
 cult to manage ; many of the teachers also were restive ; they 
 declined to use the Catechism, and told the children not 
 to believe in Regeneration. The Vicar was resolute and 
 straightforward with these recalcitrants. He met them in a 
 body and gave them the option of teaching according to the 
 rules of the Church or resigning their office. He quoted the 
 words of the Catechism on the subject of baptism, and said, 'As 
 much as this the lowest Churchman must concede, more than 
 this the highest Churchman will not demand. To these 
 answers conscientious Dissenters object, by these answers con- 
 scientious Churchmen are bound. These are Church of Eng- 
 land schools.' By great exertions 1,500/. were raised to build 
 new schools for the parish church, independent of the Sunday 
 School Association. Nor were these the only buildings erected 
 during the first three years of his ministry. In 1840, acknowledg- 
 ing a donation from the Archbishop of York to a school in tlie 
 York Road, he says, ' I am engaged now in begging 500/. for a 
 school we have just erected in another very poor part of the 
 town, 300/. to complete the subscription for a small church we 
 are building in the Harewood Road, and 3,000/. for our debt 
 on the parish church.'
 
 :284 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1838- 
 
 The magnitude of the outlay which would be required for 
 tihe parish church became apparent in the autumn of 1839, by 
 ->vhich time the rottenness of large portions of the walls and the 
 insecurity of the foundations had been discovered, and the 
 necessity of rebuilding the whole fabric was forced upon the 
 aminds of the committee. Severe and irksome was the task of 
 Pegging ; for trade was exceedingly depressed, and the state of 
 • destitution to which large numbers of operatives were reduced 
 made a heavy demand upon the pockets of the wealthy. A 
 large meeting was held at the Court House in December 1839 
 ito consider the best means of relieving the distress. The Vicar 
 .attended, and was greeted with vociferous cheering by those 
 working people who were present. He advocated the election 
 •of a certain number of working men on the Committee of 
 Relief, remarking that their aid would be valuable in detecting 
 •cases of imposture. A great disturbance was made by some of 
 the operatives speaking wildly about taking food by force if 
 it was not given. This fierce demand induced others to propose 
 .that no operatives should be eligible for the committee. The 
 .hubbub was so great that several persons who attempted to speak 
 -could not be heard. At last the Vicar rose, and then there was 
 .a lull. After expressing his regret at the unseemly conduct of 
 4:he meeting, he said that, in his judgment, it had better be dis- 
 solved. The ten thousand starving people must of course be 
 ■relieved all the same, but in some other way. He should retire 
 irom the meeting, and expend his subscription of 40/. in the 
 best way he could. 
 
 Yet, in spite of this distress among the poor, they themselves 
 ^voluntarily opened a subscription list in aid of the fund for 
 rebuilding the church — the subscribers were to pay a penny a 
 -week until the work was completed. The members of a weekly 
 ■rlass, held by the Vicar in St. John's Schoolroom, consisting of 
 imiddle -class people, subscribed fifty guineas towards the fund, 
 .and undertook some of the arduous work of begging. They also 
 presented the Vicar in October 1840 with a silk gown and 
 ■cassock. In thanking them for this gift the Vicar said that he 
 liad established this and other class-meetings because it was
 
 -1840 Letters, 1838-1840. 285; 
 
 impossible for him, in so vast a parish, to pay domiciHary visits- 
 to all his flock. 'It is now generally known,' he said, 'that I 
 am ready to receive the poor every morning at ten o'clock,, 
 while my other parishioners can meet me at the York Road class 
 at eight o'clock on Monday evenings, or at four o'clock in this- 
 school every Thursday afternoon.' 
 
 LETTERS ON PAROCHIAL WORK. 
 
 To IV. E. Gladstone^ Esq. — On Sunday Schools and Catechising. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : March 26, 1838. 
 My dear Mr. Gladstone, ... I may perhaps avail myself of 
 this opportunity of stating to you my opinions with respect to the- 
 educational measures in progress. What we want in manu- 
 facturing towns, is the appointment of some well-educated, 
 energetic man in each town, to act as catechist-general under the 
 clerg)' ; and the National Society ought to be in fact what it is in 
 theory, a grand normal school for the education of such persons. 
 This person should be able not only to catechise the higher classes^ 
 of the different Church schools, but to train the subordinate teachers 
 and as a good salary would be necessary, I should think that we 
 might safely insist on the catechist being at least in deacon's 
 orders. Under these circumstances, a chapel might be obtained, 
 where the children and the teachers might attend every 
 Sunday ; by which means sermons adapted to the children might 
 be preached or catechising be publicly conducted ; and at the same 
 time additional accommodation would, as a matter of course, result 
 from the removal of the children in the other churches of the town. 
 In country parishes the present system, when properly acted upon,, 
 answers admirably ; the clergyman superintending the schools and 
 regularly catechising the children, the master is only required tO' 
 direct the details of business, for which an inferior man will suffice.. 
 Having had the happiness to commence my ministry in a country 
 parish, I can speak with confidence on this point. But in the- 
 manufacturing towns the case is very different ; the children cannot 
 attend the day schools, except when infants ; and the Sunday 
 schools are, in consequence, the schools in which most of the
 
 286 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1838- 
 
 instruction given is received. Whether under the regulations of 
 the Factor)' Commissioners any improvement in this respect is hkely 
 to take place, I am not able to say, since the factory system did not 
 prevail at Coventry, and I have not been long enough in Leeds to 
 form an opinion ; but I suspect that the regulations of the P^actory 
 Commissioners will always be evaded. As the case stands at pre- 
 sent, the chief instruction is given in Sunday schools ; but it is 
 quite impossible for the clergy, generally speaking, who have in 
 towns to preach twice or three times in the day, in addition to 
 various occasional duties, to exercise over these schools a vigilant 
 control. I have endeavoured to meet the evil by directing the first 
 classes of the several schools to come to church in the afternoon, 
 where I publicly catechise ; preaching only in the morning and the 
 evening, and reserving my afternoons for this duty. But this can 
 •only be done by men in good health ; nor could I do it myself if I 
 had not curates under me to undertake the duty I omit. This then 
 cannot be at present generally expected from the clergy ; and what 
 is the consequence.'' no regular system being adopted at the 
 schools, they are too often little better than meeting-houses on 
 a small scale, in which the teachers practise themselves by the 
 delivery of sermonettes, while the children actually learn nothing ; 
 their feelings being occasionally excited, but their minds, principles, 
 iind morals neglected. 
 
 To the Rc7'. T. A'liniis. 
 
 Leeds : May 3, 1838. 
 With respect to catechising in church, it has always been my 
 practice. Both at Coventry and here I have done so, because I 
 think that catechising thus becomes not merely a system of in- 
 struction, but a religious exercise. I expect the same gracious in- 
 fluences of the Spirit to attend as we expect when we are preaching. 
 At school the clergyman appears but as one of the teachers — in 
 church the children hear him as their spiritual pastor and master. 
 I am accustomed to have the first classes of the several schools 
 brought to me, with such other children as like to attend, at the 
 conclusion of afternoon service. I always make them say the 
 Catechism, which takes about ten minutes ; I then cross-examine 
 thein, leading them by my questions from the Catechism to the 
 lessons of the day, which takes another ten minutes, and then I 
 apply what they have been taught in a short address — in what 
 Doddridge would call the impro\cment.
 
 -1840 Letters, 1838-1840. 287 
 
 ... I have just organised a society for which, if you occasion- 
 ally remember me in your prayers, I hope you will ask a blessing. 
 It is called ' The Society of the Friends of the Sick.' (i) The object 
 of the society is to assist the clergy of the parish church of Leeds 
 (I have five, and shall soon have six, curates) and such of the other 
 clergy of the parish as have districts assigned them in their visita- 
 tions oi the sick. (2) The Bishop is president, the Vicar is vice- 
 president, and the other clergy of the parish of Leeds ex-officio 
 members. (3) Any person wishing to become a member must be 
 proposed by one of the clergy at one meeting, and be elected by 
 the clergy present at a subsequent meeting. (4) The duty of the 
 members is to visit the sick and afflicted in their several districts, 
 to read to them the Holy Scriptures and such works as the clergy- 
 man of the district shall appoint, and to prepare them for the 
 Holy Communion. (5) A monthly meeting at the Vicarage. 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. 
 
 I am now engaged in a kind of novel magazine to be called 
 the 'Voice of the Church,' and to consist entirely of selections 
 from our old authors, making them to speak on modern contro- 
 versies. I think of printing first ' Bacon's Confession of Faith,' 
 Avith Ridley's ' Life of Ridley,' and some selections from Bingham's 
 * Antiquities ; ' Burns is to be the publisher. What think you } I 
 am also engaged in a scheme of establishing reading rooms, with 
 Saturday and Penny Magazines, and various good works, in differ- 
 ent parts of the town, to counteract the Socialists. In these rooms 
 we shall give lectures once a week ; each room will be under the 
 superintendence of a clerg^'man. I think, too, of selling tea there. 
 What think you of this ? 
 
 To the I\C7'. y. Fuller Russell 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : March 5, 1839. 
 My dear Sir, — I am much obliged to you for your kind letter. 
 I like the look of the ' Voice of the Church,' but the first part is 
 rather too sombre. We must be a little more lively. Will you 
 look out for miscellaneous articles and anecdotes, especially in 
 Walton? You will find some passages worth transcription in the 
 notes of Wordsworth's' Christian Institutes.' I think 1 shall be able 
 to send you some transcriptions myself It may be well when you
 
 288 Life of Walter Fai'qiiJiar Hook. 1838- 
 
 have time, to translate the Latin and Greek quotations. What we 
 now want is a good treatise on the Eucharist ; Brevint would be 
 the thing, but I think Burns has lately reprinted him. Enquire 
 about this. If he has, I think it might be well to reprint another 
 work of Brevint's, 'The Mystery of the Mass' (I think it is called). 
 I wish you would get it, at all events, and you can then decide 
 whether or not it is worth publishing. For the sermon in this 
 number, what think you of Bishop Bull's XIII. sermon, on Pre- 
 scribed Forms of Prayer ? If you approve of this, you had better 
 draw up a short account of Bishop Bull much after the fashion of 
 my account of Bishop Beveridge. It is easily done, on reference 
 to the Biographical Dictionary, or to Nelson's Life. I wish very 
 much to publish something about the Nag's Head stoiy. It will 
 not do for the present month, but will you look carefully over 
 Mason and Bramhall .'' I do not think Courayer would do. There 
 is a very^ interesting account of Parker's consecration in Strype's 
 Life, which would do as an appendix. I believe the whole subject 
 was thoroughly investigated by Bishop Elrington in a small octavo 
 volume. Could not Mr. Burns obtain leave from the publishers to 
 reprint this ? I think that this will be an important document 
 to succeed to Lesley — whose treatise will, I think, be concluded in 
 the next part. On looking over your letter again, I see you recom- 
 mend Bishop Hall's Olive Branch. And I think that this would 
 be better than Bishop Bull. Let this then, if you are still of the 
 same mind, be the single sermon for the next part. How have the 
 Anglican Tracts sold ? Would it not be well, if the sale has not 
 been great, to print one or two of them in the ' Voice ' ? It would 
 be very ad\'antageous if you would add a few notes to every 
 article, making the observations of the writer applicable to modern 
 controversies. 
 
 To Mr. Burns the Publisher. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : April lo, 1839. 
 
 My dear Sir, — I am so overwhelmed with incessant business 
 that my head is almost bewildered. The only time I have for 
 calm thought is between ten at night and two or three in the morn- 
 ing, and these hours must be devoted to my sermons, as I preach 
 five times in every week. I cannot therefore even ^r^w/ji? to do 
 anything. When parochial claims are rather less upon me, as they 
 sometimes are, then, by way of amusement, I can help.
 
 -1840 Letters, 1 838-1840. 289 
 
 To the Rev. y. H. NewiiuDi. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds ; March 23, 1839. 
 My dear Newman, — I am anxious to erect in this town small 
 oratories, to be consecrated as Chapels of Ease, and to be served 
 by myself and my curates. They are to contain 500 people and to 
 cost 1,000/. When I tell you that we have of late years raised 
 3,000/. for Church purposes ; that for the rebuilding of the parish 
 church I have already raised 10,000/, and I shall want 10,000/. 
 more, and that I have raised 18,000/ for building a church in 
 another part of the parish, while the majority of our richest, cer- 
 tainly our most liberal men, are Dissenters, you may regret but you 
 uill not be surprised at my having little hope of raising immediately 
 1,000/. in this town. We have raised 500/ (I say we, but I mean 
 my dear Deacon Ward) from the poor, aided by a grant from the 
 Church Building Society. The rest I must beg. And though I 
 know your claims at Oxford are many, still I think, on many ac- 
 counts it would be desirable were I able to add a handsome dona- 
 tion from a few friends at Oxford. So much is here talked about 
 the Oxford sayings and writings, that I should like also to be able 
 to let my people see what are Oxford doings. I really do think 
 that this would very materially aid us in obtaining a patient hear- 
 ing for sound principles. And I hope, therefore, you will stir up a 
 few of our friends in that horrid stronghold of Popery, and of what 
 is worse, if the Recordites can imagine anything worse. 
 
 Prospectus of the Leeds Magazine. 
 
 It has long been thought desirable that a Magazine should be 
 published, which, containing papers of general interest, and obtain- 
 ing support from various quarters, might be especially adapted to 
 the locality of Leeds and the neighbourhood. Such a Magazine we 
 have undertaken to publish ; and hating hypocrisy and deception 
 of every kind — especially that kind of deception which results from 
 the suppression of the truth, we proclaim at once, that this Magazine 
 is to be conducted on orthodox Church principles ; or, to prevent 
 mistake, we will go so far as to adopt the language of opprobrium, 
 and say on High Church principles. If anyone wishes to know 
 what those principles are, let him read our Magazine attentively for 
 one year, and ho will find them the principles of the Gospel. The 
 
 u
 
 290 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1838- 
 
 following bre\"iat of its plan will show in what manner the Leeds 
 Magazine is calculated to accomplish the end proposed. Each 
 number will contain an Original Taper elucidating some important 
 principle in doctrine or discipline of the Church, written by one of 
 the many clergy who have kindly promised their assistance. The 
 pages allotted to Correspondence will afford a ready and legitimate 
 medium for contradicting any of those attacks so incessantly made 
 against the Church and the Clergy, which may not be so gross as 
 to bear its own refutation upon the face of it. Many points also 
 unfit for the pages of a newspaper, and not sufficiently important 
 for a pamphlet, may here be appropriately discussed. The Devo- 
 tional portion of the work will be in strict accordance with the 
 Catholic spirit which distinguishes the formularies of the Church, 
 in the hope that, by the blessing of God, it may excite in the minds 
 of our readers that love, reverence, zeal for Gocl's glory, respect for 
 authority, and sense of the invisible world which such a spirit, 
 when rightly entertained, ne\cr fails to produce. 
 
 The success of this magazine, under the editorship of the 
 Rev. W. H. Teale, was for a tinie so great that it was thought 
 ■desirable to publish it in London, where it was brought out by 
 Burns under the title of the ' Englishman's Magazine.' 
 
 To the Rev. H. Trageit. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : April 3, 1840. 
 
 We shall depend upon you for many contributions,' so up with 
 your pen and work away ; you are soon to be an idle fellow, so you 
 will have plenty of time. Extracts, quotations, letters, etc., all will 
 be useful. Tell Norris to send a treatise on horsemanship, for the 
 fox-hunting parsons. Our kind regards to Mrs. Tragett ; box her 
 matter-of-fact ears when you see her, to discover whether she un- 
 derstands a joke ; whip the children when you are in a bad 
 humour, and write for us when )'ou are in a good one. 
 
 To the savie — Resignation and Contentment-- Nani M'ork. 
 
 My dear Friend, ... 1 am sony your new parisn does not 
 
 suit you so well as your last ; what a comfort, however, it s that 
 
 our principles render us so irresponsible for external circumstances, 
 
 that we gladly let external circumstances decide as to the manner 
 
 ' To the Leeds Magazine.
 
 -1840 Letters, 1 838-1 840. 291 
 
 in which we are to serve our Master. It is by those circumstances 
 He speaks to us ; His special Providence appeals to the heart. 
 ' Thus saith the Lord,' and whether in a large parish or a small, or 
 like our dear Archdeacon, on the bed of languishing, we seek for 
 grace to obey ; and in obedience, in trj'ing to identify our will with 
 the Divine will, our happiness exists. Alas ! how, if this were not 
 my faith, should I envy you ! How ardently do my natural feel- 
 ings yearn for the quiet and literary' ease of a country life ! You 
 know not the pain it gives me, placed by Providence in a promi- 
 nent position, to make the stand I do ; for though the religious 
 world regards me as a Bonner, or something worse, I am by nature 
 an easy good-natured fellow, who hates to contradict and oppose 
 anybody. Having thus given myself a puff, I shall say no more. 
 I am hard worked at present. 1 will give you my business for this 
 day, Monday, as noted in my pocket-book, which will show that I 
 am a good boy for writing this long letter to you. Twelve o'clock, 
 Committee of Diocesan Church Building Society ; one o'clock, 
 Committee for Parish Church Building ; three o'clock, dinner ; 
 four o'clock, lecture in St. John's Schoolroom ; six o'clock. Holy 
 Communion to Mr. Rhodes at Knowsthorp, three miles off; 
 eight o'clock, meeting of the Society for Promoting Christian 
 •Knowledge. 
 
 Ergo, I must break off this letter, as my stomach aches at the 
 thought of all I have to do. I must make a speech at the meeting 
 of the Society, but I scarcely know what to say, as I have spoken 
 so often on this occasion. My humble service to Mrs. Tragett. 
 
 I remain, dear sir, your affectionate humbld servant. 
 
 The correspondence which follows is of a general cha- 
 racter. 
 
 LETTERS, 1 838- 1 840. 
 
 To Mr. Shet'psJianks} 
 
 Deanery, Coventry : January 23, 1838. 
 Mr. Dean, — I am sorry not to find you at your post of duty, 
 and shall immediately institute proceedings against you in my 
 
 ' One of the clergy in Coventry who had been an intimate friend of Dr. 
 Hook when he was Vicar of Trinity. He is jocosely addressed as Dean in this 
 
 c 2
 
 292 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1838- 
 
 spiritual court for non-residence. \\\\.\\ respect to certain queries 
 contained in your last letter, your appointment as examiner of the 
 Leeds Free Grammar School has not been officially made, but I 
 cannot imagine the possibility of any opposition on the part of the 
 Committee to a gentleman nominated by my respected friend the 
 Vicar of Leeds. 1 should consider a letter to the master not 
 necessary, but perhaps a delicate attention. I am glad to find the 
 Deanery in good repair, and your highly res])cctable housekeeper 
 has made me as comfortable as possible. I have the honour to be, 
 Mr. Dean, 
 
 Your faithful Brother and Servant, 
 W. Y. Leeds. 
 
 To iJic Rev. Sainitel IVilberforcc — The T7-acta7-ians. 
 
 Leeds : February 2, 1838. 
 My dear Wilberforce, ... I know \vc do not agree in all re- 
 spects, but surely we do agree in our general principles. Where 
 we disagree occasionally is in the application of those principles, 
 especially with regard to certain societies and associations which 
 you can, and I cannot support. But we agree, I conceiv-e, in in- 
 sisting upon three important doctrines, the authority of the Church, 
 the Apostolical Succession, and the Sacraments : here surely is a 
 sufficient bond of union. And now let me ask, what right have 
 you to identify me with ' The Oxford Tract men ? ' I love Pusey, 
 Newman, and Kcble with all my heart and soul ; but I call no- 
 man Master. What greater insult can be oftered to a Christian 
 who knows his privileges than to be called after a man ? to be 
 called a Calvinist, a Lutheran, a Zwinglian ? Do we not consider 
 it even as an insult to be called Athanasian ? though of all human 
 names perhaps that of St. Athanasius is the highest. Christian is 
 my name, Catholic my surname : when my Oxford friends are 
 acting as Catholic Christians, then I agree with them ; when they 
 act othenvise, their great names have no influence upon me. I am 
 indeed sometimes sorry to see that the most powerful and valued 
 advocates of right principles go out of their way to put weapons 
 into the hands of our adversaries, and thus endanger the accep- 
 tance of those vital principles and doctrines to which I have 
 
 letter. Dr. Hook seems to have lodged at his house on passing through 
 Coventry in his absence. Mrs. Sheepshanks is here called the housekeeper.
 
 -1840 Letters, 1 838-1 840. 293 
 
 alluded. I rather suspect that some of our friends have a notion 
 that right principle can scarcely exist out of a college ; in fact it is 
 destroyed in their opinion by commerce with mankind (i.e. reducing 
 principles to practice) ; while, certainly, we practical men are 
 annoyed at their handling matters of detail as to uniformity of 
 practice, just now, before we have sown the seeds, or before the 
 fruit has appeared, of right principles. I confess that the Service 
 for Bishop Ken, following the most learned and useful tract on 
 the Breviary, alarmed me much. It has done much injury to the 
 good cause, and has nullified the tract of which it was intended 
 merely as an illustration. Pusey's tract on Baptism I admire ex- 
 tremely ; it seems to me to contain more useful matter than 
 any work that has been published in these latter days ; but 
 with respect to his notion of sin after baptism, it does, between 
 ourselves, approach in my opinion to Novatianism. It is a 
 dreadful doctrine : I hope it is not true ; I believe it is not — from 
 the best attention I have been able to give to the subject, I think 
 it is not : but it must not be charged on Pusey only ; you will 
 find the same doctrine in one of Dr. Burton's sermons before the 
 University. 
 
 To his Wife — Longi)igs for Home and Retirement. 
 
 10 Dean's Yard, Westminster : June 22, 1838. 
 
 My own dear Love, — I knew not how dependent I am for hap- 
 piness upon you and my darling little ones, but amid all this noise, 
 and confusion, and excitement, I have a constant void of mind, a 
 longing after a coze with you and a game of romps with them. It 
 seems to me as if I had been here for months instead of days. 
 The longer I remain the more desirous do I become of retirement! 
 I should indeed much like to retire from the world, and live in 
 some lone cottage and write an ecclesiastical history. I believe 
 that I told you yesterday of most of my adventures. I find all my 
 more worldly-minded friends treating me with much consideration, 
 which looks as if the world thought well of me, a very problematical 
 compliment. The kindness I receive from some of my more pious 
 Friends — from Joshua Watson, Acland, .Sam Wood, and Sam 
 Wilberforce — is gratifying, because their society wliile it delights 
 at the same time improves.
 
 294 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 1S38- 
 
 To his Wife — The Coroiiatio)i i]f Queen Victoria. 
 
 10 Dean's Yard : June 29, 1838. 
 
 ... At the Coronation we had such excellent seats that we saw 
 the whole of the sacred rite ; the actual crowning, the homage, 
 and the (2ueen when blessed by the dear Archbishop, and when 
 receiving the Holy Communion. In the Litany I actually per- 
 suaded all the persons in our part of the Abbey to bear their part, 
 by manfully and boldly bearing mine. I sat next to Whewell and 
 to Lockhart, having much conversation with his little boy, Sir 
 Walter's grandson, who in my eyes, next to the Queen, the Bishops, 
 and the Duke of Wellington, had the place of highest respect. 
 The Queen went through the whole service without apparent 
 fatigue. The Duke was loudly cheered, and so, for the honour of 
 our nation, was Soult. The Duke was not so well received in 
 France, but it is easier, as Wood says, for us to be civil to 
 the man whom we have beaten than for them to lie civil to their 
 conqueror. 
 
 To //'. /'. li'ooii, Esq. — On Style in Scrnion-iuritini^. 
 
 Coventry : July i, 1838. 
 
 .My dearest Friend, — That you and Mr. Watson should com- 
 plain of my laxity of composition does not surprise me ; but I am 
 surprised that the Archdeacon, being himself a writer of sermons, 
 should do so. The more lax, the less laboured the style, the 
 nearer it comes to collociuial language, the better. I am convinced 
 that one of the things which makes my ordinary sermons tell from 
 the pulpit is this very circumstance, that I write precisely as I 
 would talk ; and that my sermons are thus as nearly as possible 
 extemporaneous effusions. 
 
 The formed, beautiful style of Bishop Jebb, excellent to read, 
 does not answer in the pulpit ; at least this is my view of the case. 
 And when I print sermons I always make a point of altering the 
 style. It was because I did not feel at liberty to do so in the 
 present instance that I was reluctant to publish. But when the 
 Archdeacon and Mr. Watson say the sermon will, D. G., do good, 
 though not add to my character as an author, I hesitate not for 
 one moment to publish ; for what does my character signify .'' and 
 how gladly would 1 sacrifice all its respectability as a writer, to
 
 Ho 
 
 Letters, 1 838-1 840. 295 
 
 do good to a single soul. I am indeed a little mortified at their 
 
 thinking it possible that my vanity should, for one half-moment, 
 stand in the way of my attempting to do good. The real fault of 
 the sermon is in the arrangement. However, much may be done, 
 if in correcting the press you will have the kindness to attend to 
 the punctuation, and to the division of the sentences, which, in 
 writing what 1 intend to speak, I do not attend to. 
 
 To Mr. Cecil Wniy. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : December 14, 1838. 
 I am quite delighted to hear of your Catholic intentions.' I 
 am myself inclined to think that it is in general best to exhibit the 
 truth in its fulness, purity and excellence, and not du-ectly to attack 
 error. But things have now come to such a pass that if you 
 preach the simple truth the Erastians immediately raise a cry that 
 you are preaching against them. It may perhaps therefore be 
 good policy to avow that your proposed lectures are against both 
 Romish and Protestant Dissent. And if sound principles are 
 advocated with a truly Christian temper — :not railing against 
 either Popish or Protestant Dissenters, but simply refuting their 
 doctrines while building up your people in our own — I have little 
 doubt that by God's blessing you will do much good. On many 
 of the subjects to which your letter refers I have thought much and 
 read a little, and if I can be of the least service to you or any of 
 your friends in your enquiries, I shall rejoice to be employed by 
 you ; on condition, of course, that I may make a similar appli- 
 cation to you and them at other times. Your obliged and faithful 
 servant. 
 
 To the Rev. Samuel W'ilberforce. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : December 31, 1838. 
 My dear Friend, — -I am glad that another letter from you 
 justifies my writing to you so soon again ; for no sooner was my 
 last letter despatched than my tardy conscience reminded me 
 that I had not thanked you for your eloquent sermon. The fact is 
 that I dealt with you in a manner different from that with which I 
 treated Mr. Manning. All my thoughts are at present devoted to 
 
 ' Delivery of a course of lectures on Church sulijects by some Liverpool 
 ckrg)'.
 
 296 Life of IWiltci' FarqitJiar Hook. 1838- 
 
 cdui:;ilion, therefore I eagerly de\oured your sermon when it came 
 to hand, and then marked it as one of the sermons to be referred 
 to hereafter for a quotation or two. As you have eulogised my 
 sermon, I will not eulogise yours, lest it should appear to be 
 merely a return of compliments, and as I feel sure that our only 
 object is the promotion of God's glory by the knowledge of His 
 truth, such conduct would be worse than idle. How often is His 
 work done by evil reports against His servants ! How blessed a 
 thing it is that when some are praising us beyond our deserts, 
 others are abusing us equally in excess ! It is thus that we learn 
 the real insignificance of human applause or censure, and are led 
 to look up from the creature entirely to the Creator. And oh ! 
 how glorious a thing it is to know for certain that when we are 
 seeking His glory, He will in mercy take the will for the deed, and 
 that even our mistakes, if unintentional, which the wicked world 
 delights in pointing out, neither injure the cause, nor offend a re- 
 conciled Father, who is well pleased at our infantine attempts to 
 show our love to Him ! But to return to your sermon ; I value 
 it as it has suggested a good subject to me for a New Year's 
 discourse — the difference between reformation and renovation. 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. — Oti Morbid Feelings about Usefulness — 
 Necessifv of Meditation — Unfulfilled Promises — Dr. Wolff. 
 
 Leeds : April lo, 1839. 
 
 My dearest Friend, ... 1 think the feelings of are some- 
 what morbid as to the question of his usefulness. I think that in 
 these days we have got too much in the habit of thinking and 
 talking of our usefulness, forgetting that God does not need our 
 help, though He may command our services, and we are then 
 obeying His commands when we do with all our might that which 
 our hand findeth to do — the business of our appointed station. If 
 we of the clergy have advantages in some respects, which we have, 
 yet in other respects we have great disadvantages. There is 
 always danger to those who have to talk much about religion that 
 their religion may become that of the head, rather than the true 
 religion of the heart. I have found it necessary myself, to dedi- 
 cate an hour or two at midnight (the only time that I can be 
 secure of quiet) to serious meditation, self-examination, and prayer. 
 Between ten and one are usually my happy hours, when all is still 
 and silent around ; and though it may be bad to sit up late, still I
 
 -1840 Letters, 1838-1840. 297 
 
 have found the comfort and the peace brought to my soul, during 
 those hours, of the greatest possible benefit, bodily as well as 
 mentally. I have of late been studying the unfulfilled prophecies, 
 those relating to Antichrist, and that most blessed and glorious of 
 all the consolatory doctrines of the Bible, the doctrine relating to 
 Our Lord's second personal advent. I long to talk to you of these 
 subjects, and I trust we shall have some little time to do so when 
 we meet in London. The more I read my Bible the more con- 
 vinced I am, my dearest Wood, that we are right. Look to the 
 coming of a personal Antichrist, look forward to a predicted 
 apostasy and persecution, and you will see at once that our busi- 
 ness is to edify the Church, that it may stand as the Ark to which 
 all faithful hearts may resort when the fiery deluge shall come. 
 To me it is the greatest possible comfort, a holy joy, to know that 
 I shall see our blessed Saviour himself, e\"en the Lord Jesus who 
 died for us. I have only of late quite realised this truth to my 
 mind ; my notions till lately of the Resurrection have been very 
 vague ; they are much more definite. I cannot enter upon these 
 subjects more fully now, but let me strongly recommend to )ou 
 and your wife Dodsworth's ' Lectures on Advent.' Delicia and I 
 have been much delighted with them. Wolff has a small living 
 not far from this ; he was recommended to me by letters from my 
 own bishop, the Bishop of London, and Dodsworth. His opposi- 
 tion to the Recordites, in time past, so embittered them that they 
 spread abroad the report of his being mad ; but he is, in fact, a 
 man of the greatest genius, of much learning, and of the most 
 delightful enthusiasm. My friend Bishop Doane, the Bishop of 
 New Jersey, ordained him deacon, and has obtained him an 
 American D.D. degree ; and who obtained for him an LL.D. 
 degree at Dublin ? who but Archbishop Whately, a man not very 
 tolerant of madmen and fools. He was the bosom friend of Irving, 
 but never became an Irvingite : he acknowledged that his ' fiery 
 zeal, untempered by Christian moderation, sometimes got him into 
 scrapes, and his detestation of Popery sometimes made him forget 
 his Catholicism : ' but he was always so Catholic that by his 
 brother missioners he was deemed a Papist ; and perhaps neither 
 Irving nor your humble servant were ever more hated and abused 
 by the Recordites. To me he is one of the most fascinating com- 
 panions I ever met with ; and as to orthodoxy, he is a regular 
 Oxford Tract man. In one of his last letters to me he says, * I 
 am reading the Oxford Tracts to Lady Georgiana every night ;' in
 
 298 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1838- 
 
 nnother he says, ' Lady Georgiana is not up to Puscy's mark yet,, 
 but says she goes quite as far as Dr. Hook.' Of course we must 
 make allowance for much eccentricity, and for foreign notions ; 
 especially for his love of s])itting, and his dislike of cleanliness. I 
 only wish you knew him, and if he goes to London you shall know 
 him. I think it right to befriend him, the rather since, in the deep 
 malignity of my evil heart, I was one of those who most wickedly, 
 from mere newspaper reports, used to rc\ile him ; yes, re\ilc a 
 man suffering hardship for Christ, while I was lounging comfor- 
 tably at home ! I acted in the same way by poor Irving, who was 
 certainly mad at last ; but I did so when he was quite in his right 
 mind, and I often think of my then malignant wickedness, when 
 I read those various lies which are told of myself, and I kiss the 
 rod, and recognise the justice of the punishment. By the way, did 
 you ever read ' Irving's Last Days.^' Delicia and I are reading 
 them with intense delight. 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq.— 1 7s// /o /he Is/e of 11 '/>///. 
 
 July 4, 1839. 
 ]My dearest Friend, — I cannot sufficiently thank you for your 
 delightful letter, or sufficiently apologise for the trouble I gave you 
 about the sermon, which I found safe in my desk. How I should 
 have enjoyed having you with me when I went to the island. I am 
 entirely knocked up by that overwhelming visit ; so many of liie 
 people, old sailors even, had to struggle hard against crying when we 
 met ; some cried outright, and I was in a crying state all day ; des- 
 perate maudlin. Thirteen years have passed away, and many of 
 those most dear to my heart, my beloved father among the number, 
 whose faces appeared in imagination before me, as I paced the 
 houses once their own, now are not. The affection of my dear 
 people of the Isle of Wight is indeed most touching; oh that I 
 could once more settle there ! I have travelled far since I left the 
 island, but a spot so sweet for a residence I have never seen. 
 Grander scenes of course there are, for there is no grandeur in the 
 island, but the kind of scenery which has a charm for me, is that 
 of a country well cultivated, with much water ; and water and 
 cultivation go together in the dear island, with a climate approach- 
 ino- that of foreign parts. I should like, indeed, to retire to a small 
 living in the island ; this would be, to my mind, a realisation of 
 Paradise. I do not discourage these feelings, for it is easy to pass
 
 -1840 Letters, 1838-1840. 299 
 
 from such longings to a longing for Heaven, where is peace and 
 rest for evermore. 
 
 To the Same — Rc/iii/i/sce/ucs of CliildJiood. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds: September ii, 1839. 
 My dearest Friend, — No language can descril^e the quiet subdued 
 interest with which I read your letter. Nearly thirty years have 
 passed since I was amidst those scenes from which you wrote to 
 me. I was then a shy, a wayward, awkward boy ; \ery much 
 averse to the expression of my feelings, and particularly dis- 
 liking exclamations of rapture, etc. ; indeed I enjoyed little except 
 in solitude. I remember that my father and mother used some- 
 times to upbraid me for not admiring the scener}'- with which they 
 were delighted ; and I saw not long ago a letter which turned up 
 l)y chance, from me to my grandfather, in which I said, ' I have na 
 taste yet, but I feel it coming.' 1 am quite convinced that it is a 
 bad plan to rate and ridicule shy lads for not expressing themselves 
 warmly, when \\e think they ought to do so. In this, and on many 
 other occasions, the non-expression is to be attributed to anything 
 but want of the feeling. Even now, if a person tells me you ought 
 to feel so or so on account of such or such an event, there is in me 
 a revulsion, an inclination to say, ' Then you shall be disappointed, 
 for I will not profess to feel it.' And this feeling in boyhood when 
 one has not been long exercised, through grace, in forming those 
 habits which may correct natural temperament, is of course stronger. 
 I allude to these things because 1 was, all the while, intensely en- 
 joying the works of nature around me. So deep was the im- 
 pression made upon my mind that I cannot help thinking that I 
 could find my way about, almost without a guide. There used to 
 be at the top of a hill, overhangmg, or nearly so, the rapid trout 
 stream, a summer-house, wliich at the bottom looked like two 
 pigeon-holes. There would 1 dream of poetry, when I thought, 
 mistaken youth, that I was born to be a poet. Many an air-built 
 castle was erected there. These recollections crowd thick upon 
 me, '.vhile all connected with Limmouth and Ilfracombe brings 
 my dear father before me, and I think of those lines of Words- 
 wortli : — 
 
 My ey<-s are tilled with ehildish tears, 
 My heart is idly stirred ; 
 
 And the same sounds are in my cars 
 Wliich in those days I heard.
 
 300 Life of ]V alter I-^anjiiJiar Hook. 1838- 
 
 At Ilfracombe I remember particularly Wildersmouth, where the 
 sea used to rage horribly. What a sea it is ! is it not, in those 
 parts ? Whether it is to be attributed to my boyish fancy or not, 
 it seems to me that 1 have never seen any sea like it since. I 
 have seen the sea as beautiful in colour, though I have been able 
 sometimes at Ilfracombe to sec the bottom eighteen feet deep. 
 But that endless ground-swell, that swell which is there when 
 there is no wind stirring, and the fury of the sea when any wind 
 dared to breathe upon it ; in these things I imagine that I have 
 never seen it equalled. As the sea comes up at W^ildersmouth, to 
 walk among the rocks becomes dangerous ; all of a sudden you 
 find the sea roaring at some distance in front of you, having covered 
 the spot through which you entered ; and you find nothing but 
 perpendicular rocks behind and on either side. The danger of 
 walking there was impressed upon our minds as a caution, but the 
 impression has been made very deep. I forget where the precise 
 spot was, but I well remember the misery of a parent, a father, 
 whose son w-as lost among some of those rocks. I remember well 
 the quick hurried step with which he walked up and down on a 
 kind of green platform, while people were looking for his child. 
 He could not venture to look himself, and seemed to walk as if for 
 his life, as if he should expire if he stopped for one moment. 
 Those are touching lines of Wordsworth's which relate to a similar 
 event : — 
 
 His mother from the window looked, 
 
 With all ilie longing of a mother ; 
 Hand in hand liis sisters walked 
 
 The green wood path, to meet tlieir brother. 
 They sought him east, they souglu him west, 
 
 They sought him all tlie forest thorough ; 
 They only saw the cloud of night, 
 
 'I'liey only heard the roar of Yarrow. 
 
 I cannot recollect whether the child I allude to was restored to his 
 parent ; I remember being hurried off to bed and dreaming of the 
 event the whole night. How odd it is that we sometimes so en- 
 tirely forget the most important point in an early recollection. 
 How very very much, my own dear most beloved friend, I should 
 have liked to have been with you in your excursion ; I really do not 
 know anything in the world that would delight me inore than to 
 take such an excursion with you. You say that you needed rest 
 .and retirement. I am sure )'ou did ; \\ ould that we could have
 
 -1840 Lettei^s, 1 838-1 840. 301 
 
 more of it ; I pine for retirement. My visit to the Isle of Wight, 
 the thoughts of quiet hours in my country parish there, have made 
 me long for a retreat there more and more. The only thing I 
 might lack would be what supports one in one's labours here — a 
 sense of usefulness. There is some feeling of pleasure in hoping 
 that the great God is employing me as an instrument of good. I 
 give Him all the gloiy ; I know that I am but an instrument in His 
 hands, as useless intrinsically as the water in the font. I keep all 
 this constantly in my mind, but I sometimes think that the thought 
 itself is wrong, and that I might fairly retire, if opportunity oftered, 
 so that such a thought might never again come across me. 
 
 Treatment of Dissenters — Avoid Coiit7-oversial Senno/is. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : November 29, 1839. 
 
 ]\Iy dear Bellairs, — I congratulate you on your retirement to a 
 countiy parish. With t'vo thousand persons under you, you will 
 have more than enough to do, if it shall, after a time, please God 
 to bring them back to the fold of the Church. I would strongly 
 advise you not to oppose the Methodists, or to trouble yourself 
 about them. The best method of proceeding is to have your 
 schools, however thinly attended, conducted in the best manner, 
 and for this purpose it is necessaiy for the Pastor to devote one 
 whole day if not two days in the week to this duty. And as to con- 
 troversy, I would never preach a controversial sermon. It is a rule 
 with me never to do so in my own congregation, except on some 
 great occasion which seems to demand it. It may be useful to do 
 so, on what are called public occasions — such as charity sermons, 
 &c. in other parishes ; but never let your divinity be controversial 
 among your own people. The Methodists are to be treated with 
 affection and respect, without countenancing their errors. 
 
 You will find Cottage Lectures highly useful, and Girdlestone's 
 Commentary a great help on those occasions. I hope the clergy 
 will read in your neighbourhood. It is by reading, not by dis- 
 cussions, that men come to the truth. 
 
 To the Rev. Samuel Wilberforce on his Appointment to the Arch- 
 deaconry of Surrey. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds ; December 5, 1839. 
 My dear Archdeacon, — I have availed myself of the first day of 
 the cheap postage to express my joy at your preferment ; I have
 
 302 Life of Walter FarquJiar Hook. 1838- 
 
 been looking anxiously for it ever since the death of my old friend, 
 Lord Walsingham. A noble sphere of usefulness is now open to 
 you, and grace has been gi\'en to you to desire to do your duty in 
 that line of life in which you find yourself providentially placed. 
 These are great blessings, and in your labours may you continue 
 to be blessed. The great danger to men like you and me, actively 
 employed, is, lest we should be found thinking of self, instead of 
 looking only to the glory of God ; but blessed be His Holy Name, 
 over this and all other temptations we can triumph through the 
 strengthening of the great Head of the Church, and the incessant 
 dread of this which haunts us in our meditative hours, and makes 
 us sometimes tremble, keeps us humble. May His spirit, my dear 
 friend, be with you ! Believe me to l)c, my dear Archdeacon, 
 
 Most affectionately yours. 
 
 To \V. P. Wood, Esq. — Oppo>icnts — Fear of ])cfeciion to 
 Romanism. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : Januarj- 21, 1840. 
 ]\Iy vciy dearest Friend, . . . You can hardly imagine all I 
 have to go through here ; situated, as I am, between two extremes. 
 There are bitter enemies, the Peculiars, whose bitterness is beyond 
 all description, ready to watch each trip that is made. When they 
 •cannot discover one, there are some of them ready to invent one. 
 Then if for the sake of peace I yield a little to these, there are 
 some veiy High Churchmen who never reproach me, never say an 
 vmkind word, bxit look at me with tearful eyes, and seem to say. 
 * we hoped better things of thee.' This is ' the most unkindest 
 cut ' always of all. 1 really sometimes scarcely know what to do : 
 how often do I think of good Dr. Hamilton, in King Charles's day; 
 how often do I think of the joy it will be in heaven, that there, dis- 
 putes among the children of God will not, as here, be necessary. 
 You know the unfortunate sensitiveness of my mind, and these 
 things are sometimes quite overwhelming. ' Woe is me,' I can 
 truly say with the prophet, ' woe is me that I was born a man of 
 war ! ' I think that if the rulers of the Church of England do not 
 take very good care, we shall have ere long a great defection to 
 Romanism. I do not fear the clergy, but there are young men, the 
 generation below us, who have been educated in a school of tran- 
 scendental metaphysics mingled with religion, and they require 
 something in ihcir religion which will raise the imagination.
 
 -1840 Letters, 1 838-1 840. 303 
 
 For a long period there was a prejudice against eveiything 
 mysterious in religion ; the feeling now is, that mystery is a priori 
 •evidence in favour of a doctrine. These persons see much to 
 admire in Romanism. They admit its doctrinal errors, but they 
 see that many of its practices are superior to our own ; that when 
 men are striving for perfection, they receive greater encouragement. 
 Hitherto men's eyes have been blinded to this, partly by Pro- 
 testant lies, which, discovered, give strength to Romanism, and 
 partly by assertions that attention to these things is superstition, 
 trusting upon works, &c. ; the weakness of which dogmatism is 
 ■easily perceived. Men now see that there is good mingled with 
 the evil of Romanism, and that much of what has hitherto been 
 called superstition is a help to devotion. Having got so far as 
 this, there will be many who will begin to consider the doctrinal 
 differences of less importance than they really are. Surely it is 
 important for our rulers to bear all this in mind, and not only to 
 render the Church of England sound in doctrine, but to do every- 
 thing that in them lies, according to her principles, to aid men in 
 these their high aspirings after perfection. Since the Restoration the 
 tendency of the Church of England's mind has been to do every- 
 thing to conciliate those who are inclined to Protestant dissent. 
 We must now, as in the time of Elizabeth, do something to con- 
 ciliate those weak brethren who are inclined to Romish dissent. 
 
 From Willi a 111 Wordsivorth. 
 
 Rydal Mount : February 5, 1840. 
 
 My dear Sir, — Though I have not regularly acknowledged the 
 receipt of the several publications you have sent me, I trust that 
 you do not infer from that omission that I am indifferent to those 
 marks of your regard, or insensible to their merits ; I have pe- 
 rused them carefully, and with much pleasure and profit. The last 
 I received is the excellent sermon upon the Novelties of Roman- 
 ism.' I read it over again yesterday, and am happy to say that I 
 •concur w ith your views. But allow me to add one remark : you 
 point to the additions the Romans have made to the ancient faith, 
 which the Reformation endeavoured to restore, and which we hold. 
 Now, much the greatest part of the particulars which you select 
 are. in conversation at least, disclaimed by almost every Romanist 
 
 ' 'The Novelties of Romanism, or Popery Refuted by Tradition,' in vol. 
 j'. of The Cltinch and her Ordinances (HeiUlcy).
 
 ;o4 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 
 
 of education, clergy or laymen, with whom it has been m)- fortune 
 to converse. And this is one of the strongest objections I have to 
 their religion. I accuse it boldly of having many faces, and two 
 the direct opposites of each other : a face for the cultivated mind, 
 and another, the reverse of that, for the great body of the ignorant. 
 I have lived nearly four years of my life abroad, in countries where 
 Popeiy was the established or prevailing religion ; I have care- 
 fully observed its operation, and I have no hesitation in saying that 
 the bulk of the people who belong to it, do believe, or act at least 
 as if they believed, in those additions which you have enumerated. 
 After all, I reckon the constrained celibacy of the clergy the 
 monstrous root of the greatest part of the mischiefs of Popery. If 
 that could be got rid of, most of the other evils would gradually 
 melt away. If we would truly spiritualise men, we must take care 
 that we do not begin by unhumanising them, which is the process 
 in respect to all those who are brought up with a view to the 
 making of that unnatural vow. The inevitable result of it upon the 
 minds of the great body of the clergy is an inordinate desire to en- 
 large the power of their order, per fas et ncfaSy in other words, to 
 enslave the minds of others for their own exaltation. Believe me, 
 dear Sir, to remain faithfully, 
 
 Your much obliged, 
 
 \V. Wordsworth. 
 
 yustification — Egotism^ etc. 
 
 lo Dean's Yard, Westminster: April 21, 1840. 
 
 My dear , — Your kind and delightful letter was very wel- 
 come to me, because in my last, having purposely stated some of 
 my positions almost paradoxically, to set you a-thinking, I thought 
 I had alarmed you, and perhaps by my free speaking had given 
 you offence. The letter I have just had the pleasure to receive is 
 to me quite satisfactory. I do not wish you to be brought over to 
 any set of opinions, I merely wish you to read without prejudice 
 w^orks which it is impossible to read without profit. I am afraid, 
 too, that you have to struggle with some of those difficulties peculiar 
 to persons of c|uickness, and a strong sense of the ridiculous, 
 talents which always require veiy great watching and much exer- 
 cise of self-denial ; and if you will bear with me now that I have 
 ventured upon your kindness so far, I will venture to recommend 
 you to read for instruction. From the general tone of your letters 
 I suspect that you chiefly read to criticise, assuming that you are
 
 -1840 Letters, 1 838-1 840. 305 
 
 right. Now certainly Dr. Pusey and Mr. Newman are quite as 
 likely to be right as we are ; I admit that they and my other 
 Oxford friends, being ascetics, may require, as generally necessary, 
 what the secular clergy, such as I am, find to be impracticable ; 
 but so far as I have had intercourse with them, they are always 
 willing to make allowance for others who are placed in situations 
 wherein they cannot be so austere. I have told you, I believe, 
 before, that I cannot defend Mr. Newman's work on Justification, 
 because I have not studied it sufficiently to understand what he 
 means. You have clearly mistaken him, because he considers 
 Justification to be conveyed by baptism. That the popular notion of 
 Justification is wrong is clear from this, that it leads most persons 
 to be afraid of their Bible. How very seldom we hear a sermon 
 on Justification by works, and yet Justification by works is as much 
 a doctrine of Scripture as Justification by faith. The fact is, that 
 too many Protestants make Justification by faith only, which is an 
 important doctrine of Scripture, to be the very foundation of Chris- 
 tianity ; whereas the one thing necessary is mystical union with 
 Christ. Let us beware how we displace Christ, and elect in His 
 stead a doctrine co7icer?!ing Christ. Scripture does not love defini- 
 tions, but would the following statement meet your views ? We are 
 justified 
 
 Freely — by God. 
 
 Meritoriously — by Christ. 
 
 Instrumentally — internally by faith ; 
 externally by baptism. 
 
 We lose it — by sinning. 
 
 We regain it — by penance. 
 
 We evidence it — by good works. 
 
 It is consummated — in glory. 
 
 I am sadly afraid that the progress of Infidelity will soon be fear- 
 fully great. We are to expect it ; it is predicted that there will be 
 a great apostasy before the coming of Antichrist, and that Anti- 
 christ will appear just before our Lord's coming to reign in glory. 
 The very controversies of the day are leading to Infidelity. People 
 are beginning to say Popery is bad, but Protestantism is worse ; 
 it has all the bad passions of Popery without its redeeming points. 
 The conclusion will be, that all religion is bad, unless we can pre- 
 pare the Church for the reception of such persons as occupy the 
 middle ground between Popery and Protestantism. This is my 
 conviction, and I act upon it. 
 
 X
 
 3o6 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1838- 
 
 May I request you not in future to repeat to me what people say 
 or think of me. My dear Gamaliel, Bishop Jebb (do you know his 
 works ?), always observed that the less we hear of ourselves, for 
 good or evil, the better. Writing confidentially to you, I will be so 
 far egotistical as to say, without any affectation, that while my 
 faults, as well as my sins, are of course more in number than the 
 hairs of my head, I have only one redeeming quality, which is an 
 energy of character which makes me wish to do my duty well 
 whatever that duty is. In all other respects I am lamentably de- 
 ficient. Circumstances, providentially ordered, have brought me 
 rather prominently forward in the Church ; I know that I have not 
 sufficient talents for any such situation, that in ever^'thing I am far 
 behind thousands who have not been brought so forward. I am 
 quite conscious of my inferiority, painfully so. I assure you that 
 this is said without any aftectation ; and I do often pray most 
 fervently that an opportunity may be providentially opened 
 to me to retire to a country living, a country parish having 
 been from boyhood the object of my ambition, as it was for seven 
 years the happy scene of my first ministerial labours ; but I am 
 supported by God's grace, and on that I rely. I beg you to con- 
 sider this as confidential, because there is no use m decrying 
 oneself; it interferes with usefulness. To speak of oneself is 
 indeed wrong, but let what I have written stand. 
 
 To the Reverend T. H. Tragett — A Visit to Beverley. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : August 12, 1840. 
 
 In his own handwriting too, ah ! well ! this comes of being a 
 squire as well as a parson ; but don't imagine that it will continue. 
 I remember some twenty years ago receiving a letter from the 
 great man of Stow, and poor dear Joshua Watson could hardly 
 believe his eyes w^hen he saw an autograph letter from the Arch- 
 deacon to such an insignificant wight, he the said lay Archbishop 
 evidently feeling certain such pangs of jealousy as I do now. 
 Yesterday was Augusta's eleventh birthday, so what did Mrs. • 
 Gilpin and your humble servant but take her and Anna some sixty 
 or seventy miles (a mere trifle, three hours' work by railroad), to say 
 her prayers in Beverley Minster. The day was beautiful ; we went 
 at seven o'clock in the morning ; saw the mud at Hull, a kind of 
 northern Southampton, at nine ; and when we got to Beverley 
 there were no prayers ; but such a minster ! York and Lincoln
 
 -1840 Letters, 1 838-1 840. 307 
 
 only surpass it. The verger, the great man of Beverley, told the 
 Vicar, the great man of Leeds, that the living belonged to the 
 Simeonites \ the Vicar (innocently), ' The Simeonites, who are 
 they ?' ' The followers of Mr. Simeon.' ' Oh ! really ! Xhefolio-cvers ! I 
 hope (very innocently), they do not pray to him.' ' Oh no, sir.' 
 ' Ah well ! tell the trustees that a Catholic priest who prays to God 
 only, hopes they do not pray to St. Simeon, and wishes they would 
 permit him to pray to God.' Alas ! our misfortunes did not end 
 here. We got back to Hull just two minutes too late for railroad ; 
 ergo (wife being a nurse), being seventy miles from home we were 
 obliged to buy nightcaps, iSic, and to sleep at Hull ; this morning we 
 arrived at home, safe, well, and not cross. 
 
 The Otie Thitig Needful. 
 
 Leeds : November 28, 1840. 
 
 My dear , ... I will not notice your remarks on my former 
 
 letter. My wish is to make you think, and think in the right way. 
 You seem to me to be too busy in trying to find out what other 
 people think, instead of exercising your own mind, which without 
 flattery is superior (if you will only exercise it) to that of many to 
 whom you defer. You mistake me when you think I wish you 
 
 to embrace Mr. 's opinions (I dare say very right ones) because 
 
 he is your pastor. I want you to embrace no one's opinions, but 
 merely to do what the Church directs you to do. All that I should 
 say with respect to a pastor is, that we should hear him with 
 patience, complain of him to the bishop if he purposely opposes the 
 teaching of the Church, if otherwise, keep silence. Silent medita- 
 tion on a wrong opinion may be very serviceable to us, even when 
 we are not called upon to state our reasons for thinking it wrong. 
 In fact, the formation of our opinions is a minor consideration. 
 What is it that we require ? union with our Saviour Christ, mystical 
 union with Him. Let this be the one thing aimed at, and you will 
 be gradually led into all truth, both in action and in opinion. Let 
 Christ and a desire to be united with Him, and through Him with 
 God, be the centre of yoursystem (not any doctrine concerning Him, 
 such as Justification by faith), but Christ and Him only, and mysti- 
 cal union with Him, and all will be right. As to opinions, I would 
 never trouble myself about them, except when they are likely to in- 
 fluence my conduct. Of what use, for example, is it to you to form 
 an opinion about the Apostolical Succession ; you are in the Church 
 where the fact of the Succession exists ; they who have the estate have 
 
 X 2
 
 o 
 
 oS Life of Walter Fcirqithar Hook. 1840 
 
 no need to examine the title-deeds. Dissenters, indeed, are bound to 
 enquire, where they find the Church universal (all Christians except 
 themselves) affirming the doctrine. You, if you were going to live 
 in Scotland, would be bound to enquire, but at present I see not 
 what you have to do with the subject ; you may hear Catholics 
 censured for holding it, but you know we glory in being censured, 
 and you are not called upon to defend us.
 
 1841 Attihide towai^ds Tract.irians. 309 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 A.D. 1841-1843. 
 
 The year 1841 is one upon which the student of English eccle- 
 siastical history looks back with a profound and melancholy 
 interest. It was a year of painful tension and perplexity, 
 distress and agitation, to great minds and noble hearts. In the 
 pubHcation of Tract XC. we see a last, longing effort on 
 the part of the gifted author to discover in the formularies of 
 the Church of England — that Church which he still deeply 
 loved — a certain consonance with the Church of earlier times, 
 in default of which he and many of his disciples had come to 
 think her claims to Catholicity could not be made good. 
 
 In the censure passed upon that Tract in high quarters, 
 and the cessation of the series at the bidding of the Bishop of 
 Oxford, we see the first blow which seriously shook the author's 
 position in the Church : while the creation of the Jerusalem 
 Bishopric caused a more violent shock to his feelings and 
 strained his allegiance to the Anglican communion almost to 
 breaking. 
 
 From this point we mournfully watch the great leader, the 
 inspiring genius of the ' Oxford Movement,' gradually receding 
 from our camp, until we see it standing on the edge of the 
 boundary stream, 
 
 Tendentemque manus, ripai ulterioris amore.' 
 
 Nor was the present year in any slight degree one of trial 
 
 ' 'And stretching forth his hands with a longing for the shore beyond."
 
 3IO Life of Walter Farqithar Hook. 1841- 
 
 to the Vicar of Leeds. Under the pressure of temporary 
 vexation and excitement he actually, upon one occasion, 
 resigned his living. For a few hours he ceased to be Vicar of 
 Leeds ; but the hasty decision was so soon retracted that 
 probably none of his flock were ever aware that it had been 
 made. 
 
 His relation to the Oxford School was indirectly the cause 
 of this singular occurrence, and to it therefore the attention of 
 the reader must in the first place be directed. It might be 
 compared at this time with the attitude of Samuel Johnson 
 towards David Garrick. Sir Joshua Reynolds once truly 
 remarked that Johnson never would allow anyone to praise or 
 to blame Garrick but himself. In like manner the Vicar of 
 Leeds was continually engaged in defending or censuring the 
 Oxford writers — upholding them against coarse and unjust 
 attacks, criticising them in opposition to indiscriminate and 
 lavish praise. In the face of a hostile and often calumnious 
 world he took his stand beside them ; in conversation and 
 correspondence with confidential friends he pointed out 
 and lamented what he conceived to be their errors of statement 
 or of judgment. Some passages, for instance, in one of the 
 Tracts concerning sin after Baptism were in his judgment 
 doctrinally inaccurate, and the whole Tract by Mr. Isaac 
 Williams on ' Reserve in communicating Religious Knowledge,' 
 though beautiful in itself, seemed to him to recommend a 
 principle inapplicable to the present condition of things, and 
 in some respects absolutely unwholesome and undesirable. As 
 a rule, however, it would be true to say that he agreed with the 
 Tract writers in their principles, but frequently differed from 
 them respecting the best mode of practically applying those 
 principles. 
 
 A few extracts from his letters will illustrate the truth of 
 these remarks. 
 
 Writing to Mr. Newman in 1839, he says : 
 
 Right principles are advancing here in an astonishing manner. 
 I do not mean so much in Leeds — where the oppositions of those 
 who make the Word of God of none effect by the Record are very
 
 -1 843 Attitude tozvards Tractarvjus. 311 
 
 fierce — but throughout the West Riding. Men are beginning to 
 think. And several Peculiars are now insisting on the Apostolical 
 Succession and on Baptism. ... I have not seen Pusey's letter.' 
 I rejoice to find, however, that you are beginning to condescend to 
 notice the objections and difficulties which occur, not to factious 
 Recordites, but to really good men who are feeling their way. A 
 few tracts to show what you do 7iot mean, as well as what you do 
 mean, would be useful — that is to show how far you will not go, as 
 well as how far you will go. Pusey is sure to be excellent. I wish 
 Williams would explain himself more fully as regards his tract.* 
 It is one of the most beautiful, one of the most delightful tracts 
 ever written — but in the third part he might modify considerably. 
 Surely there is a difference to be observed in our conduct in a 
 nation which is heathen, and a nation by Baptism made Christian : 
 in a nation where heathenism is the traditional religion and in a 
 nation where the traditional religion is Christianity. The secret 
 doctrines of our faith are in this country known : it is no longer a 
 question whether they should be declared or not — tliat point is 
 settled for us. Surely we are justified in taking care that they are 
 not misapplied. I believe Williams would agree in all this ; but 
 he might very profitably explain himself more fully. A thousand 
 thanks for the fourteenth sermon in your last volume. Had you 
 written nothing else, I should love you for that. 
 
 His indignation was roused at the injustice of assailing with 
 clamorous invective and abuse those members of the Church 
 who might be inclined to look too favourably on Romish 
 Dissent, while others who leaned towards Protestant Dissent 
 were suffered to tamper with the doctrines and rubrics of the 
 Church to their hearts' content, no man forbidding them. 
 
 Writing to a friend in 1840 who was disposed, as he 
 thought, to judge the Tract writers too hardly, he says : 
 
 The Tractarians are not more to be blamed for thinking well of 
 some parts of the system which as a whole they condemn, than 
 others who, though conforming to the Church, think well of some 
 parts of the Presbyterian, Independent, or Anabaptist systems. 
 And the former are more consistent than the latter, for they are 
 
 • To the Bishop of Oxford, on the 'Tendency to Romanism imputed to 
 Doctrines held of old as now in the English Church.' 
 2 On ' Reserve.'
 
 312 Life of Walter Fai'qiihar Hook. 1841- 
 
 never seen to attend a Romish place of worship, whereas the latter 
 do sometimes go to a Protestant Dissenting place of worship, and 
 unite for various purposes with Protestant sectarians. The former 
 party would consider attendance at either place an act of schism. 
 You tolerate much to please those who think our Reformation did 
 not go far enough ; you ought to concede a little to please those 
 who think it went too far. If, for instance, to gratify the former, 
 ■who are enamoured of sectarian forms of worship, you introduce 
 hymns not authorised, it is not asking much if, to conciliate those 
 who admire the solemnities of Romish ritual, you permit rubrics to 
 be observed which are expressly commanded. If you really dread 
 the increase of Romanism you may depend upon it, it is only by 
 solemnising our services with proper magnificence and grandeur 
 that you can effectually prevent it. I have known true Catholic 
 principles to be the chief obstacles to a tendency to Popery in 
 several instances. In two I have myself been nearly concerned. 
 
 He then mentions the case of a young nobleman who had 
 been impelled towards Popery by his disgust at the extremely 
 Protestant school in which he had been trained, so far as to 
 doubt whether he should take his seat in the House of Peers as 
 a Roman Catholic or Anglican. But after studying under the 
 Vicar's guidance the real principles of the Church, he became 
 thoroughly reconciled to his position, and had remained ever 
 since a loyal devoted member of the Church of England. 
 
 Again, in writing to the same friend, he observes : — ' The 
 Oxford Tracts are of course liable to error, but not more so 
 than the tracts published by the Society for the Propagation of 
 Christian Knowledge, or those issued in great numbers by the 
 (Roman) Catholic Institute, and far less than the tracts of the 
 Religious Tract Society.' 
 
 The same English spirit of fair play and even-handed 
 justice takes a wider range in another of his letters : — 
 
 You speak of persons, whether Presbyterian or Episcopalian, 
 whether Calvinist, Lutheran, or Anglican, being all equal, but not 
 one word do you say of the great body of our fellow-Christians, the 
 Roman Catholics. And so Mr. Hare would have had concessions 
 made for Baxter, Owen, &c., but not a single concession to admit 
 the Romanists to our communion. And let it be remembered that
 
 -1 843 Tract XC. 313 
 
 Baxter and Owen are not to be mentioned in the same sentence 
 Avith such men as Borromeo, Pascal, Fenelon, and other pious 
 Christians who adhered to the Roman obedience. 1 for one think 
 that a Romanist is far less in error than Owen and Baxter, and 
 why is concession to be made on the one side and not on the other? 
 I entreat you not to think that the question between Catholics and 
 the Sects relates to mere Church government : it relates more or 
 less directly to eveiy question of morals. The great desire of High 
 Churchmen is, to promote union and correspondence between the 
 different members of the Church Catholic ; to induce our Catholic 
 brethren on the Continent to renounce their peculiarities which 
 unhappily separate them from us, while we keep ourselves free from 
 the peculiarities of Protestant sects, and exhibit to them the English 
 Church as she ought to be, and would be, if those who serve her 
 altars were only honest to their vows, and would obey her laws. 
 
 It was his opinion that the Tracts tended in the direction 
 of these desirable results, partly by inculcating a strict and 
 scrupulous observance of the prescribed ritual of the Church of 
 England, partly by reviving many points of Catholicity in her 
 doctrine and practice which had become obsolete through 
 neglect or prejudice. And consequently he deplored and 
 deprecated what seemed to him the indiscreet if not reckless 
 zeal with which this method was pursued, fearing that it would 
 too probably frustrate the design which the writers, as he 
 believed, in common with himself, had in view. And to this 
 effect he wrote to Archdeacon, afterwards Bishop, Wilberforce 
 in 1840 : — 'Quite in confidence, I will admit to you that I am 
 much annoyed at many of the proceedings of our friends at 
 Oxford. They push things too far, and involve in difficulty 
 those whom the world connects with them. But I take rather 
 a different view from what you do as to the mode of treating 
 them. While they are persecuted I shall stand by them 
 because I agree with them in the main. It is only among 
 friends that I lament the publication of such works as those of 
 Froude.' 
 
 Whilst he was in this frame of mind, in the month of 
 February 1841 Tract XC. appeared. Of that celebrated 
 document it will suffice to remind the reader that it was an
 
 314 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1841- 
 
 attempt to pacify the minds of those who fancied that in the 
 Thirty-nine Articles our Church was committed to a serious if 
 not fatal departure from some of the doctrines of the primitive 
 Catholic Church ; and that consequently they were the most 
 formidable flaw in the claim of our Church to be considered a 
 true branch of the Catholic Church. The author sought to 
 allay these apprehensions by endeavouring to prove that in the 
 so-called interpretations of the Articles a rigid Protestant 
 meaning had been imported into those formularies which the 
 simple text did not of itself convey ; and further, that the 
 strong statements which they contained respecting Romish 
 errors were directed against a traditional system prevalent in 
 the Romish Church, a system which exceeded the letter of her 
 written decrees. Keeping these two facts in mind, it was 
 suggested that the Articles should be interpreted in the most 
 Catholic sense which the words would bear, and that then it 
 would appear that they did not so hopelessly shut the door 
 against communion with our brethren in the Roman Church as 
 had been commonly supposed. 
 
 The first formal expression of dissatisfaction with the Tract 
 proceeded from four Oxford tutors, who printed a joint request 
 to the ' Editor of the Tracts for the Times ' that he would dis- 
 close the name of the author of Tract XC. They declared 
 that the Tract in their judgiTient had a very dangerous tendency, 
 from its suggesting that certain very important errors of the 
 Church of Rome were not condemned by the Articles of the 
 Church of England ; and they considered that, throughout the 
 Tract, a liberty of interpretation was recommended which was 
 altogether of a novel, startling, and dangerous character. 
 
 This protest of the four tutors, to which the author replied, 
 pointing out that in several important respects they had totally 
 misconceived his design, was followed by a censure, or rather 
 condemnation, of the Tract from the Hebdomadal Board. It 
 may be necessary to inform the general reader that the Oxford 
 Hebdomadal Board at that time was composed of the Heads of 
 the Colleges and Halls, together with the Vice-Chancellor, and 
 the two Proctors. It met weekly, as the name implies, and
 
 -1 843 Tract XC. 3T5 
 
 although originally intended to act merely as a kind of Com- 
 mittee to Convocation — the Parliament of the University, in 
 which every Master of Arts was entitled to speak and vote — it 
 had gradually assumed much more extensive powers, and drawn 
 the business of legislating for the University almost exclusively 
 into its own hands. It is clear that the decisions of such an 
 oligarchical body, whatever practical power it might possess, 
 could not really represent the mind of the University. The 
 censure therefore of this body upon Tract XC. was not the 
 censure of the University, but only of those particular Doctors 
 of Divinity who happened at that time to be members of the 
 Board. 
 
 The Board on this occasion hurried on the declaration of its 
 sentence with a precipitation alike undignified and uncourteous. 
 On March 10 the Vice-Chancellor laid the Tract, with the 
 Protest of the four tutors, before the Board. On the 1 2th a 
 Committee of the Board was appointed to draw up a resolution, 
 first disowning the ' Tracts for the Times ' generally, as in no 
 wise sanctioned by the University, and, secondly, condemning 
 Tract XC. in particular, and all similar modes of interpretation, 
 ' as evading rather than explaining the meaning of the Articles.' 
 Mr. Newman was informed that night of what was in course of 
 preparation. On the following day, Saturday the 13th, he wrote 
 with marvellous celerity an explanatory pamphlet in the form of 
 a letter to Dr. Jelf, Canon of Christ Church. On Sunday the 
 14th, he and others wrote to the Vice-Chancellor, and the 
 Provost of Oriel, begging that the judgment of the Board might 
 be suspended until the letter to Dr. Jelf appeared. Notwith- 
 standing this appeal, however, the condemnation by the Board, 
 was published on the 15th, getting a-head of the letter, which 
 was through the press at the close of the day, by only a {&n 
 hours. Whatever criticism, or censure, the Board might have 
 thought proper to pass upon Tract XC. even after reading the 
 author's explanatory letter, it is inconceivable that, had they 
 read it, they would then have applied to the Tract such expressions 
 as ' evading rather than explaining the meaning of the Articles.' 
 The letter to Dr. Jelf indignantly repudiates, and refutes, the
 
 3i6 Life of Walter Farqzihar Hook. 1841- 
 
 insinuation contained in such words of dishonest aims — aims 
 indeed of which no one acquainted with the purity of the 
 author's character could for a moment suspect him. 
 
 The Vicar of Leeds, and his friend Mr. Pahner of Worcester 
 •College, were among those who were indignant, first at the 
 Hebdomadal Board taking upon itself to exercise judicial 
 powers which properly belonged to the University at large, 
 and, secondly, at the offensive terms in which its sentence was 
 ^expressed. 
 
 Many of the Bishops were annoyed witli him for the attitude 
 -which he took up in reference to the Tracts, more especially 
 Tract XC. Bishop Blomfield expressed his sentiments to him 
 ■^vith his accustomed frankness and plainness of speech : — 
 
 Enough, and more than enough, has been done by the writers 
 ■to call attention to the principles of the Church. They have shed 
 a light upon some important questions, sometimes indeed flickering, 
 and sometimes lurid, but if they proceed they will kindle a flame. 
 Even now it has been found necessary to bring out the engines, 
 and there has been some danger of not being able to extinguish 
 the fire without pulling down a part of the house. 
 
 As to the Tract No. XC, I consider its tendency to be most 
 pernicious ; and I am, I confess, grieved to think that men like 
 you and Mr. W. Palmer should have thought yourselves called 
 •upon to declare your purpose of standing or falling with the author 
 of it, if his errors, admitted to be so by yourselves, be openly 
 -condemned. 
 
 What you say of a number of serious young men who might 
 probably go over to the Church of Rome, if Mr. Newman were 
 ■openly condemned, is very alarming. ... It is to my mind the 
 strongest possible evidence of the evil tendency of the Oxford 
 Tracts that they should have made it necessary for Mr. Newman 
 to put forth such a commentary upon our Articles, to prevent his 
 disciples from becoming papists. 
 
 Towards the end of March, the Bishop of Oxford wrote to 
 Mr. Newman, begging him, for the sake of peace, to suppress 
 Tract XC. This request embarrassed the position of the author, 
 Avho wTote to consult, among other friends, the Vicar of Leeds, 
 respecting the course which he would advise him to adopt.
 
 -1 843 Letter from Mr. Newman. 317 
 
 Oriel : In fest. Annunc. 1841. 
 
 ?.Iy dear Hook, — I write to you in some anxiety, and quite vet 
 confidence. I should like to have a line from you at once. 
 
 The Bishop wishes me, in a letter I am to write to him, to say 
 that ' at his bidding I will suppress Tract XC I have no difficulty 
 in so saying and doing, if he tells me, but my difficulty is about my 
 then position. I shall then have been censured for an evasion by 
 the Heads of Houses, with an indirect confirmation of it by the 
 Bishop ; for though he puts it on the ground oi peace, people do 
 not make nice distinctions. I cannot acquiesce or co-operate in 
 such a proceeding. To condemn Tract XC. in the wholesale is tO' 
 condemn its interpretation of Ai^ticles 6 ^ and 1 1 ^ quite as much as 
 of 22.^ I ani a representative at this moment of the interests of 
 many : I cannot betray them. 
 
 It seems to me I shall be observing my duty to the Bishop by 
 suppressing the tract, and my duty to my principles by resigning 
 my living. Again, it is painful enough to be at St. Mary's with all 
 the Heads against me, but if the Bishop indirectly joins them, what 
 is to be my support ? I cannot be a demagogue. The Bishop 
 himself is all kindness, not so the authorities in London. 
 
 Though the tract were suppressed, answers to it would be cir- 
 culated freely, and there would be no lack of them. Bishops too,, 
 to a certainty, are to charge. I cannot hold a living with such a 
 force against me. 
 
 Ever yours affectionately, 
 
 J. H. N. 
 
 The following is Dr. Hook's reply : — 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : March 27, 1841. 
 
 My dear Newman, — I do not think that you are in any way re- 
 quired to write as the Bishop of Oxford proposes. It is to your 
 Bishop, not to Dr. Bagot, that you are to yield obedience. Let 
 Dr. Bagot act as your Bishop, and all will be right. If he con- 
 demns you, it will be in his court and by his proper officers, but 
 he cannot condemn you before you have obtained a hearing. You- 
 may demand permission to plead your cause, and in so doing you 
 may persuade him. 
 
 It is most important, at this time, to act with due form, for our 
 
 ^ Of the Sufficiency of Holy Scripture. 2 Of Justification. 
 
 ' Of Purgatory.
 
 3i8 Life of Walter Far quhar Hook. 1841- 
 
 rights, as well as the authority of our rulers, are protected by forms ; 
 and a regard to the proper forms will interpose that delay which 
 may prevent the Bishop from acting rashly. 
 
 I think too that you will not be doing your duty in resigning 
 your living. It does not seem to me that things have come to that 
 point, the Heads having very clearly stretched themselves beyond 
 their line. 
 
 You will have received the Bishop of London's letter before this, 
 for though your letter is dated The Annunciation, it only came to 
 hand to-day. I think the Bishops will not be so rash. I have 
 written in reply very strongly to the Bishop of London ; begging 
 him to take warning from the last century, as in the case of Wesley. 
 
 I should not suppress the Tract, but publish with it the letter of 
 Jelf, and I should be inclined to close the Oxford Tracts with a 
 No. XCL, recapitulating all that has been done, and answering 
 some objections. Depend upon it, all the difficulties will vanish 
 on one side if you can conscientiously write a eulogy on our mother 
 the Church of England. Many Anglicans think you unfilial. 
 
 And now, my dear Newman, I know not whether you will be 
 angry or not, but I should under similar circumstances find support 
 and comfort were a friend to tell me, as I venture to tell you, that 
 I think by your letter to Jelf you have entirely regained your 
 ground. For my part, I am under the veiy deepest obligations to 
 you. Your sermons have done me more good than almost any 
 work ; and your work on Justification has opened to me, now I 
 have studied it, a field of thought, on which I hope to profit till my 
 dying day. And you have set us, on this occasion, an example 
 which I hope we shall all be able to imitate. Do not despond, my 
 dear friend ; all is working for good. Tract XC. is a little bit of a 
 scrape, but it does us good to get into scrapes sometimes ; it 
 makes us more cautious. Believe me to be your affectionate and 
 sympathising friend. 
 
 Most persons have read Mr. Newman's 'Apologia,' and they 
 will remember that the advice given in this letter was not 
 followed, unless indeed the letter which Mr. Newman wrote to 
 the Bishop of Oxford a few days afterwards, and which is an 
 answer to some of the objections brought against the Tracts, 
 may be considered, in some sort, an adoption of the suggestion 
 to close the series with a Tract No. XCL The Tracts were
 
 -1 843 Scene at a Meeting. 319 
 
 now discontinued. Mr. Newman spent much of his time in 
 retirement at Littleniore. Two years later, he resigned his 
 living — and two years after that he seceded from the Church of 
 England. 
 
 The reader will now be in a position to understand the 
 singular, and somewhat painful occurrence at Leeds already 
 hinted at, which took place just after the correspondence which 
 has been cited. 
 
 On March 30, the annual meeting on behalf of the Society 
 for Promoting Christian Knowledge was held in Leeds, the 
 Bishop being in the chair. A few days before this a meeting 
 of the Pastoral Aid Society had been held in the town, which 
 ■was attended by a large number of those persons, especially 
 amongst the clergy, who were most bitterly opposed to the 
 Vicar, and some of them in their speeches reflected rather 
 severely upon his opinions and proceedings. He himself was 
 disposed to consider the meeting as a kind of demonstration 
 against himself, and most of his own more immediate friends 
 looked upon it in the same light. They mustered, consequently, 
 in uncommonly strong force at the meeting for the Society for 
 Promoting Christian Knowledge, and when the Vicar rose to 
 move one of the resolutions, he was greeted with an extra- 
 ordinary and prolonged burst of cheering from the assembly. 
 This expression of affection and sympathy on the part of his 
 people touched the susceptible heart of the Vicar to the very 
 quick. He construed it as a declaration of their attachment, 
 not merely to himself, but also to the principles which he 
 taught. He spoke under the influence of strong excitement. 
 
 My Christian friends, I thank you for that loud and long 
 applause. It tells me that whatever others may say of me, I am 
 still secure of your support. It tells me that you adhere to those 
 principles and doctrines — those good old High Church doctrines, 
 which I preach. It tells me, that in whatever Protestant pulpit 
 Popery may be preached, in my Catholic pulpit you only hear 
 those doctrines of the Church of England by which Popery can be 
 successfully refuted. My Christian friends, we can no longer shut 
 our eyes, after what we have heard in various parts of the countiy,
 
 320 Life of Walter Fai'qiihar Hook. 1841- 
 
 to the lamentable fact that the Church of England is now divided 
 into two parties. It is a lamentable fact. In my own humble 
 sphere I have endeavoured to avoid even the appearance of forming 
 a party, even the appearance of ' lording it over God's heritage ; ' 
 but parties now are formed. A party has been formed, acting in 
 a party spirit and on party tactics, in various parts of the country, 
 and in self-defence a party must now be formed to meet it. We 
 caVi no longer halt between two opinions : we cannot attempt to hunt 
 with the hounds, and run with the hare : we must take our side : 
 and as far as I am concerned, I will nail my colours to the mast of 
 high principle, and blow high or blow low, come sunshine or come 
 storm, through the grace of God, I will adhere to them.' 
 
 In this strain he was proceeding, amidst shouts of applause 
 from his hearers, when the Bishop interposed : ' Perhaps my 
 reverend friend will allow me to observe that this is scarcely 
 consistent with ' — but the rest of the sentence if uttered was 
 drowned by the cheers of the assembly. When they had 
 abated, the silvery tones of the Bishop's voice were again heard : 
 ' My Christian friends, we are come here to promote the cause 
 of Christian Knowledge, and I do earnestly ' — but again the 
 deafening applause prevented him for a while from proceeding. 
 At length he finished his sentence : ' Hear me, while I in 
 Christian kindness beg my friend to consider whether he may 
 not confine himself to the subject we are met to promote.' The 
 Vicar then said : ' If I had been allowed I should have shown 
 how the subject on which I have been speaking may be made 
 to bear upon the object of our present meeting : but after 
 what our respected Diocesan has said, I shall content myself 
 with requesting you to adopt the resolution which I proceed to 
 read to you.' He then read the resolution, and immediately 
 sat down amidst loud and long-continued cheering. 
 
 Soon after this the chair was vacated by the Bishop, and 
 taken by the Vicar, who moved a vote of thanks to the Bishop, 
 which was carried by acclamation. Mr. Henry Skelton, a warm 
 supporter of the Vicar and of the Society, then rose and pro- 
 posed a resolution, which might perhaps be most fitly described 
 as a vote of confidence in the Vicar. He described his work.
 
 -1 843 Scene at a Meeting. 321 
 
 especially his indefatigable labours on behalf of the Christian 
 Knowledge Society, in glowing terms, and ended by saying, that 
 if amidst the trials which he had encountered since he came 
 into the parish, he had proved that he was not only a mortal, 
 but a fallible man, where was the person who dare take a stone 
 and throw it at him ? 
 
 The resolution was seconded by Archdeacon (Robert) Wil- 
 berforce, and put to the meeting by the Bishop, accompanied 
 with remarks of such Christian courtesy and kindness as proved 
 that he did not resent the rather rough reception which the 
 meeting had given to his interruption of the Vicar. In his 
 reply to the resolution the Vicar said : 
 
 My Christian friends, I should not have the heart of a man if I 
 did not feel most deeply grateful for those kind expressions of your 
 affection and regard. At the same time, I feel that an apology is 
 due to my lord the Bishop, and to you, for having very uninten- 
 tionally disturbed, or nearly done so, the harmony of the evening. 
 Perhaps, I did too much rejoice, when I found that I retained your 
 affections, in spite of all that has of late been done to deprive me 
 of them, and I allowed my feelings to carry me a little away. But 
 I am confident his lordship will permit me to assure him, and to 
 assure this meeting, that if I had continued my address my object 
 would have been to promote peace : to have shown where parties 
 may differ : to have shown how they may differ, and be all the 
 while in perfect love and peace with one another : how in attending 
 such meetings as this, all parties might be joined together under 
 our beloved Diocesan. I take the liberty of saying these few words, 
 lest having been interrupted before I had entered into my argument 
 1 might be misunderstood. I am sure the Bishop will excuse my 
 having done so : and now, my friends, once more from my heart I 
 tliank you. 
 
 Eye-witnesses of the scene relate that the behaviour of the 
 Vicar was a singular triumph of Christian discipline over the 
 feelings of the natural man. To be checked in the full career 
 of the speech which he was uttering from an overflowing heart, 
 was a severe trial to his powers of forbearance and self-control. 
 The struggle was manifest in the pallor of his countenance and 
 the agitation of his frame. But his deep and habitual reverence 
 
 Y
 
 322 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1841- 
 
 for Episcopal authority prevailed over every other feeling, and 
 he sat down with the submissivcness of a child. 
 
 Nevertheless, and perhaps indeed all the more for the re- 
 straint which he put upon himself at the time, the check which 
 he had received was deeply mortifying to him. In the highly 
 ■wrought condition of his feelings, he imagined himself deprived 
 of the support and sympathy of his Bishop. That he should 
 have been put down by the Bishop in the presence of his 
 parishioners, and in the very midst of their expression of con- 
 fidence, seemed to him like approbation of the party which was 
 opposed to him, especially as the Bishop, although not present 
 at the meeting of the Pastoral Aid Society, had given his 
 sanction to it. The author of ' Presbyterian Rights Asserted,' 
 deep as was his veneration for the Episcopal office, was fully 
 prepared, as we have seen in that pamphlet, to resist any undue 
 interference on the part of bishops with the work and influence 
 of the parochial clergy. And highly excited as his feelings were 
 by recent events in the Church, he was not in a mood to bear 
 thwarting tamely. Newman had been constrained to suppress 
 Tract XC. at the bidding of the Bishop of Oxford, and now his 
 own mouth had been stopped by his Bishop, at a moment when 
 his flock had generously rallied round him to give him that 
 hearty sympathy of which he greatly felt the need. 
 
 And so, as he walked home that evening with the Bishop, he 
 tendered to him his resignation of the living. How the Bishop 
 received the intimation cannot be told — but he took the right 
 way to touch and soften the Vicar's heart, to calm the excite- 
 ment of his feelings, and so to prepare his mind for forming a 
 sober judgment. As he crossed the threshold of the Vicarage 
 he uttered the benediction, ' Peace be to this house and to all 
 that dwell therein ; ' and then the two large-hearted, warm- 
 hearted men spent much of the evening in quiet conversation 
 and prayer with one another. Either that evening, or the 
 following morning, the formal and positive resignation of the 
 living seems to have been retracted. But the idea was not 
 completely dismissed from his mind for several weeks. He 
 poured out his trouble very freely to the Archbishop of York,
 
 -1 843 Letter on State of Parties. 
 
 from whom and from his daughter Miss Harcourt he ahvays 
 experienced the most sympathising kindness. 
 
 \'icaragc, Leeds : April 6, 1841. 
 i\Iy dear Miss Harcourt, . . . The Bishop has now placed him- 
 self in the very position from which I, for four years, have wished 
 to rescue him ; he countenanced the Pastoral Aid Meeting, which 
 was stated to be got up against me, and then he puts me down at 
 another meeting. My opponents therefore claim him as the head 
 of their party, and they are ^■ery few in number ; while the great 
 body of my parishioners feel that in supporting their Vicar they 
 are opposing their Bishop. Of course this must not be, and unless 
 I can speedily devise some means by which I can be brought to my 
 right position, and replace the Bishop in his, I shall resign ; and 
 although we shall be reduced to comparative poverty, my wife and 
 I shall be happy in a sense of having done our duty ; and as to 
 our children, God will take care of them. I cannot remain under 
 circumstances which will divide my parish, the Bishop being the 
 head of one party and I of another ; my friends must knock under 
 to the Ijjshop entirely, or I go. 
 
 iSleanwhile he had written to Bishop Longley, and published 
 with his consent, a ' Letter on the State of Parties in the Church 
 of England,' being a continuation and expansion of the remarks 
 which he had begun to make at the meeting. It was indeed 
 expedient to publish something of the kind, as the fragmentary 
 reports and rumours of his observations were of course liable to 
 various kinds of misconstruction. 
 
 He began by stating that he had no intention whatever to 
 ([uestion the propriety of the Bishop's conduct in interrupting 
 him at the meeting, and then proceeded to unfold the design of 
 the speech whicli he had been prevented from completing : — 
 
 I had stated before I was interrupted that we can no longer blind 
 ourselves to the fact that the Church of England is now a di\idcd 
 body. It cannot be injudicious to say this when it is evident to all 
 that the fact is as I ]ia\e slated it to be. The most unhappy de- 
 termination of the Hebdomadal Board at O.xford to censure Mr. 
 Newman— a censure which I have little doubt the convocation of 
 the University would, if summoned, reverse — has proclaimed liiis 
 
 Y 2
 
 ,24 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1841- 
 
 from one end of the country to the other. The meeting of the 
 Pastoral Aid Society in Leeds, which was regarded as a demon- 
 stration — a ' rally,' as it has been called, against me, the Vicar of 
 the parish, declared it to my parishioners. 
 
 It is then a fact, an undeniable fact, that there are two parties in 
 the Church of England — the High Church parly and the Low Church 
 party. And the Act of the Hebdomadal Board renders it abso- 
 lutely necessary for us to range ourselves on the one side or on the 
 other. That is to say, we must join that party with which in gene- 
 ral principles we agree, and not desert it merely because we may 
 think that a few individuals have expressed themselves on some 
 points incautiously, or have been hurried into acts which a colder 
 and calmer judgment may condemn. . . . On the publication of the 
 90th Tract for the Times, I determined to point out in a pamphlet 
 what I considered to be its errors. But the moment I heard that 
 the writer was to be silenced, not by argument but by a usurped 
 authority, that moment I determined to renounce my intention, 
 that moment I determined to take my stand with him ; because, 
 though I did not approve of a particular Tract, yet in general 
 principles, in the very principle advocated in that Tract, I did 
 agree with him. In a word, I was compelled by circumstances to 
 act as a party man. And in justice to one whom I am proud to 
 call my friend, I am bound to say that Mr. Newman's explanatory' 
 letter to Dr. Jelf is to my mind perfectly satisfactory^ 
 
 What I maintain on this point is, that under existing circum- 
 stances, we must become party men. We cannot halt between two 
 opinions. We must take our side. Minor differences must be for- 
 gotten when our general principles are attacked. 
 
 These being the two chief parties into which the Church 
 was unhappily divided, he proceeded to show that each was- 
 hable to run into a vicious extreme — the High Church into 
 Popery — the Low Church into Socinianism — the latter being, 
 in his judgment, the more pernicious of the two. Yet good 
 might come out of evil. Divisions were doubtless permitted as 
 the punishment of sin. They were an affliction — but if piously 
 borne, they might become blessings, and produce a salutary 
 effect. Thus it was to be hoped that while each party was- 
 narrowly watched by its opponents, neither would be permitted 
 to deviate into the extreme. Both parties, continuing in the
 
 -i843 Tour Abroad. 325 
 
 Church of England, might receive her for their guide, accept 
 her articles and formularies as a common standard and 
 common court of appeal, unite upon that broad platform in 
 friendly intercourse, make the most of the many points on 
 which they agreed, and overlook the few on which they differed. 
 And here he had intended in his speech to have pointed out 
 how the Christian Knowledge Society was calculated, in a 
 variety of ways, to afford common ground on which both parties 
 might meet, and how important it was that the Society itself 
 should maintain a neutral position : a position from which he 
 had observed with regret some tendency in recent times to 
 depart. 
 
 The relief to his mind afforded by the publication of this 
 letter, calm reflection aided by prayer, together with the sound 
 judgment and advice of his wife, and of the good old Arch- 
 bishop of York, gradually mitigated his feelings of vexation 
 arising from this occurrence. The thought of resignation was 
 laid aside, and in May he met the Bishop of Ripon at the house 
 of Archbishop Harcourt in London, having previously written 
 to him to say that he could not leave the country for a foreign 
 tour, which he was then meditating, without asking his for- 
 giveness, and assuring him that he would yield to' him in every- 
 thing to the utmost of his power. 
 
 There can be little doubt that the foreign tour was a whole- 
 some tonic, which he much needed to divert and refresh his 
 mind, and to brace his nerves, which had been worn and fretted 
 by the strain of work and worry during the four years that had 
 elapsed since he had become Vicar of Leeds. Although the 
 response made to his efforts, and the sympathy which he had 
 received from the greater part of his flock, had been surprisingly 
 warm, yet it is needless to say that his difficulties had been 
 great, and his anxieties greater. As he gradually and painfully 
 achieved a more commanding position for the Church in Leeds, 
 be became exceedingly apprehensive of any danger which 
 threatened to shake or undermine that position. Considerable 
 allowances, therefore, must be made if an ardent, imi)ulsive, 
 sensitive temperament sometimes magnified real risk, sometimes
 
 o 
 
 26 Life of Walter Farqiihai" Hook. 1841- 
 
 even imagined it where it did not exist, and became 'afraid 
 where no fear was.' 
 
 The episode whicli lias just been related was an instance of 
 this exaggerated view of things, which he was especially liable 
 to take when mind and nerves were overwrought. 
 
 He looked forward to his tour with boyish delight. It was 
 to be made with his old friend the Rev. T. H. Tragett, to 
 whom he wrote the following letters with an exuberance of fun, 
 which was in a great measure the natural and healthy rebound 
 of a mind that had long been in a state of tension. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : April 14, 1841. 
 
 My dear old Tragett, — I am c[uite delighted at the chance of 
 your going abroad with me. Go down on one knee and kiss your 
 Avife's fair hand widi my thanks for her being so unselfish, and tell 
 her I will coddle you up, and make water-gruel for j ou if you cough, 
 &c., &c. Immediately after May 9 I propose to start ; I must be 
 back by the middle of June. I shall get a plan for a fortnight's 
 tour, and expect to do it in three weeks ; or if we manage well, 
 might we not boldly take three weeks, and march into Switzerland? 
 It will be glorious, and we will publish our letters to our ladies on 
 our return, to pay our expenses. 'Letters to ladies, by three 
 married parsons, and one unfortunate bachelor ; ' you Churton, I, 
 and Norris ; he shall be pa)-m;ister, and we will bully him right 
 well ; you don't know how grumpy he is when he does not know 
 precisely the value of a thaler. Hurrah ! old boy, let us take a 
 good holiday, and a fig for Bishops and all the musty Tracts, with 
 our wives and little ones into the bargain. 
 
 Yours most affectionately. 
 
 N.B. Don't send this to the ' Record.' 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : April ig, 1841. 
 My dear boy, — As I am to be your travelling tutor, I must give 
 you some directions before we start. Your mamma is very parti- 
 cular about your water-gruel, but never mind, you shall have some 
 nice sour Rhenish wine, and as much as you can drink. Your 
 mamma wishes to tie you to her apron string as long as she can, 
 and as you seem to be mammy-sick, you shall remain with her to 
 the last moment. I do not see why we should start on the
 
 -1^43 Tojir Abroad. 327 
 
 Monday, I only mentioned the earliest day that I can start. I will 
 make enquiries about those matters when I get to London, and then 
 write to you. If you can get a passport at Southampton you may 
 perhaps save a day in London, but I am not sure that you can do 
 so. I think you must put 50/. in your pocket, which can be 
 changed into bills at Messrs. Harries, Farquhar and Co., but I 
 hope we shall not use all that money. My own salary will be 300/. 
 a year, but I will settle that with your mamma ; you must take a 
 change of linen with you, together with one hairbrush, one tooth- 
 brush, one piece of soap, the two former to be returned on your return 
 from your travels. My dear boy, it is important that one of us should 
 know something of French or German ; now as I, the tutor, mean 
 on principle not to learn any barbarous languages, I advise you 
 to set to work with grammar and dictionary. I have heard from 
 an old gouty Fellow of a college, an acquaintance of your mamma's, 
 the Reverend Dr. Norris, who protests against our taking too long 
 a journey. I am rather of his opinion, and I am for moving slowly, 
 but as for his proposal of going to Paris I repudiate it entirely. I 
 hate and detest the French, who are greater liars, more insolent, 
 and more unchristian, if possible, than the Evangelicals ; (not to be 
 sent to the 'Record'.) I am quite sure that if I went to Paris, the 
 French would treat me as the Americans have done Mr. Macleod, 
 and then what a sad thing it would be to be the cause of war 
 between the two countries. And now you may keep yourself quite 
 quiet till you hear from me again. With my respects to the old 
 lady and the rest of the party, I a'.n, my dear boy, 
 
 Your affectionate Tutor. 
 
 The prospect of a considerable fine falling in to him from 
 the Prebend which he held in Lincoln Cathedral, and which, 
 like most of the ecclesiastical property in those days, was 
 leased on lives, raised a hope that Mrs. Hook might be able to 
 accompany him abroad. This transported him with joy. 
 
 10 Dean's Yard, Westminster : April 20, 1841. 
 My dearest Love, — I am soriy tliat your last hours in Leeds 
 were so sad, and I hope that your visit to Northficld will cheer your 
 old heart. And to cheer it more I will tell you that Burder hopes 
 to get us 500/. for our fine, which will be a v&xy fine thing. The 
 question now is, whether, with the prospect of this godsend, you may
 
 328 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. \%x\~ 
 
 not accompany me abroad. Now turn this matter well over in that 
 very little thing which you call your mind. Yox oh ! how it would 
 add to my delight. We could proceed leisurely over Holland, and 
 perhaps fix ourselves for a fortnight at one of the Brunnens. My 
 only darling, do think of this. 
 
 Dean's Yard : April 29, 1841. 
 
 I am so delighted at the thoughts of your going with me that I 
 know not how to express my joy. I could not have travelled with 
 comfort had I been separated from my own dear love. Sir Francis 
 Palgrave is to bring me to-day a sketch of our tour. It is to be 
 the south of France, Avignon and the Roman cities. At Glad- 
 stone's on Tuesday we met quite a Yorkshire party — the Wenlocks, 
 and dear Mrs. Milnes Gaskell, with whom I talked a long time about 
 my darling girls. She says she hears they are patterns of elegance! 
 Indeed, my darling, they are most lovely creatures. . . . What a 
 kind note I enclosed from Lady Somers. Give my kindest love to 
 Mrs. Johnstone and to the Clarkes. I love them all very much, 
 and few things gladden my heart more than the entire union and 
 affection there is between the two families. You cannot imagine 
 how strongly I feel on this point. I think the greatest comfort 
 of life is to know that one lives in the hearts of those one loves. 
 The heart — the heart, old girl — give me a person with a heart, and 
 let the heads take care of themselves. I would rather ten thousand 
 times be in a scrape with the good-hearted, than on the highest 
 pinnacle with the merely right-headed. Besides, I am quite certain 
 that we more often do right by yielding to the impulses of the heart 
 than by listening to the cold calculations of the head. 
 
 The tour occupied a part of May and June, and although 
 he became very homesick in the course of a few weeks, his 
 mental and nervous system was no doubt greatly soothed and 
 invigorated by the change. 
 
 The composition of sonnets was a favourite recreation with 
 him when travelling, and his letters to his wife and friends 
 sometimes consisted entirely of a string of sonnets, forming a 
 kind of poetical journal of his proceedings. They were 
 written, for the most part, with too much rapidity and facility 
 to bear severe criticism, which, of course, they were never 
 intended to meet ; but viewed as almost extemporaneous effu-
 
 -1843 Tour Abroad. 329 
 
 sions, many of them have considerable merit, and hke so 
 many of his other ■\\T:itings, breathe a freshness, which is some- 
 times the charm of compositions upon which the labor liince 
 has not been bestowed. 
 
 Two specimens are here introduced. 
 
 ]^ancluse. 
 
 Whether thy Laura breathed this vital air, 
 
 Or was the phantom idol of the brain ; 
 
 All these are questions intricate and vain, 
 
 From which, Platonic Petrarch, I forbear. 
 
 Nor — thou unwedded parent — will I dare 
 
 To comment on thee in severer strain. 
 
 For, in deep woe, to cleanse thee of thy stain, 
 
 Thou to the source of Pardon didst repair. 
 
 Rather I tell thee, in thine own Vaucluse, 
 
 Thy bounding river still runs darkly blue. 
 
 Thy flowers still smile, thy mountains still 'lie close,' ^ 
 
 Thy birds still sing beneath as bright a sky 
 
 As when, here fed, thy youthful fancy grew. 
 
 Or tears of late repentance dimmed thine e) e. 
 
 At the foot of Mont Blanc. 
 
 High thoughts and wild my bosom agitate, 
 
 As thy tremendous glories I behold, 
 
 ]\Iont Blanc ! Thou like a tyrant, bright but cold, 
 
 Look'st down complacent from thine high estate 
 
 On the convulsions which have made thee great. 
 
 Thy music is the avalanche's roar, 
 
 Thy pastime to wage everlasting war 
 
 Against the elements : and here we wait. 
 
 Thy flattering courtiers, in thy glittering hall. 
 
 We men — anxious to win thy faintest smile. 
 
 Trembling, lest by thy thunderbolt of snow 
 
 Thou doom us to destruction : yet not all 
 
 Thy majesty can win our love the while : 
 
 We yield our homage ; but rejoice to go. 
 
 1 Vaucluse, signifying ' Vallis clausa,' or closed valley.
 
 330 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1841- 
 
 y __ _ 
 
 ' Some persons,' he observes, ' would cavil at the last line ; 
 but I delight in gentle calm pastoral scenery ; while I admire 
 horrors, but rejoice to leave them, so that I truly express my 
 own sentiments.' 
 
 His taste, indeed, in scenery was like his taste in novels : 
 he preferred the soothing and the cheerful to the grand, sub- 
 lime, and exciting. He loved the bright meadows, the shady 
 lanes, the trim gardens, the green parks of England more than 
 all the mountains of Switzerland : just as he relished the deli- 
 cate humour of Miss Austen more than the vigour and pungent 
 wit of George Eliot. 
 
 Soon after his return to Leeds, he was cheered by one of 
 those proofs that he had not laboured in vain, which no pastor 
 ever received in greater abundance than he did, and none ever 
 appreciated more highly. It had been his custom to receive 
 the curates of the parish church, and such others of the Leeds- 
 clergy as were willing to come, every Thursday evening at the 
 Vicarage, for interchange of thought and counsel touching 
 parochial work. The members of this weekly meeting or club 
 resolved to greet him on his return from the Continent with a 
 substantial token of their regard, and of their gratitude to him 
 as the able and instructive leader of their deliberations, by pre- 
 senting two altar service books for use in the parish church, 
 accompanied by an address. 
 
 The offer also made to him in the following letter by Arch- 
 bishop Harcourt was a great gratification to him, as a mark 
 of honour from one who treated him with the most invariable 
 kindness, and whose friendship was an unfailing comfort and 
 support to him in seasons of difficulty and trial : — 
 
 Nuncham Park : August ir, 1841. 
 Dear Dr. Hook, — LookinL,^ to my former connexion with Leeds 
 as its Diocesan, and to the very essential benefits which that highly 
 important parish has derived from your edifying ministrations and, 
 speaking generally, from your zealous and energetic superintendence 
 of it as Incumbent, I cannot but feel anxious to evince the interest 
 which I take in such a result, by offering to your acceptance one of 
 the vacant Canonries of the Cathedral. I am aware that what I sa
 
 -1 843 The new Parish Clmrch. 331 
 
 offer you is now, in one sense, valueless ; believe me, however, that 
 I should have rejoiced to make you the same offer under other cir- 
 cumstances, and before these appointments were shorn of their 
 ancient and more substantial appendages. Still, I cannot but 
 flatter myself that considering the offer solely as a public testimony 
 of the well-merited approbation of your Metropolitan, and a mark 
 of his pei'S07ial regard^ it may not be unacceptable to you. 
 Ever, dear Dr. Hook, veiy truly yours, 
 
 Eeor. 
 
 And now the time was approaching for the consecration of 
 the new parish church. The demolition of the old church had 
 begun in the spring of 1838. The resolution to build an 
 entirely new fabric had, as we have seen, gradually supplanted 
 the original designs for remodelling the old structure, and the 
 estimated cost had steadily risen in proportion, from 6,000/. to 
 9,000/., 15,000/., and finally to 28,000/. 
 
 The committee, however, manfully grappled with their 
 formidable task, and by the end of August 1841 the whole 
 work was completed, including the massive tower with a new 
 and powerful peal of thirteen bells. This was the first peal of 
 thirteen bells ever cast in this kingdom, and the cost of the 
 whole was 1,203/. ^^^- 4'^- 
 
 The instructions of the Vicar to the architect throughout 
 had been to make the accommodation of a large number of 
 worshippers his foremost aim. This pressing need was on no 
 account to be sacrificed to architectural effect, although the 
 building was to be made as handsome as possible consistently 
 with due regard to this primary re(iuisition. Hence the intro- 
 duction of galleries was allowed, but they were supported by 
 small iron pillars placed behind and independent of the stone 
 columns which support the roof, and the front of them was 
 richly carved in wood after the manner of tabernacle work, 
 'i'hey are probably the least obtrusive, least conspicuous gal- 
 leries ever fixed in a church, and yet they hold a very large 
 number of people who are all able to see and hear the celebra- 
 tion of divine service. 
 
 Another point on which the Vicar insisted was that the
 
 ^^2 Life of Walter Farqichar Hook, 1841- 
 
 altar should be well raised, and api)roachcd by a very broad 
 and spacious flight of steps. 
 
 The plan of the church then is very simple. It consists of 
 a nave, choir, and side aisles over which the galleries are 
 placed. It is of nearly equal breadth throughout, and is 
 divided lengthways into two nearly equal portions, nave and 
 choir, by short transepts. The principal entrance is under the 
 tower, which stands at the extremity of the north transept, and 
 the organ occupies the end of the south transept. 
 
 If the excellence of a church, as of most other things, is to 
 be estimated by the way in which it answers the purpose for 
 ■which it was made, we must acknowledge that the parish 
 church of Leeds is entitled to a very high rank. It holds 
 1,000 more persons than the old church was capable of con- 
 taining, and where is the church to be found in which nearly 
 3,000 worshippers can with equal ease see and hear and take 
 their part in the celebration of divine service? Whatever 
 objections, too, may be made to the architectural details of the 
 building, it must be admitted that the general effect of the 
 interior as a whole is deeply devotional. 
 
 It is indeed almost impossible for anyone to form a just 
 judgment of the church without having attended the services 
 in it. Only then do all its merits become apparent. The 
 •choir occupy their proper place relative to the congregation, 
 yet the full effect of their singing, unrivalled as it is for a union 
 of delicacy with strength, can be felt in the most distant extre- 
 mity of the church. The pul])it, again, is in its proper position 
 at the eastern end of the nave, yet it is so central to the whole 
 church that a moderately good voice can be heard with ease 
 by everyone in a congregation of 2,500 people. Deeply 
 impressive is the celebration of Holy Communion, when at the 
 words, ' Draw near Avith faith,' the worshippers, quitting their 
 places in the body of the church, flock towards the altar and 
 kneel on the wide and lofty flight of steps, waiting their turn to 
 move up at the time of reception to the long altar rail — so long 
 that forty communicants can kneel before it in one line. At 
 such times, the asi)ect of the whole church, with its rich and
 
 -1 843 Consecration of Pa7nsh Chtcrck. 
 
 handsome furniture, the dark oak carving, and ' the dim reli- 
 gious light ' cast by the many painted windows, is very solemn 
 and striking even from an artistic point of view. It is a sanc- 
 tuary well fitted to shut out the thought of earthly things from 
 the minds of those who quit the turmoil of the huge, smoky, 
 crowded town, to worship within its quiet walls.' 
 
 On Thursday, September 2, the new church was conse- 
 crated with great pomp. Such a concourse of prelates, clergy, 
 and laity had probably never been seen in any provincial 
 town in England in modern times. 
 
 And in those days the spectacle was unprecedented of a 
 Scotch and American bishop taking part in the same ceremony 
 with bishops of the English Church. The venerable Arch- 
 bishop of York and the Bishop of Ripon were accompanied in 
 the procession by Dr. Doane, the Bishop of New Jersey, and 
 the Vicar's old friend Dr. Lowe, Bishop of Ross and Argyll, 
 now no longer unable to officiate in an English Church, as 
 when he paid a visit to Coventry nine years before, the pro- 
 hibitory Act having been repealed in 1840. These four pre- 
 lates, followed by about 300 clergy, walked from the vestry at 
 the east end of the church round the outside to the south- 
 western door, where a petition was presented to the Diocesan 
 by Mr. Henry Hall, the senior trustee, praying him to conse- 
 crate the church. 
 
 After the Bishop had signified his assent to the petition, 
 the procession moved up to the choir. The Bishop of Ripon 
 took his place on the north side of the altar, having the 
 Metropolitan on his right ; on the south side, opposite Bishop 
 Longley, was the Bishop of New Jersey, and opposite to the 
 Archbishop was the Bishop of Ross and Argyll. After the 
 deed of consecration had been read and signed, choral service 
 followed. The consecration sermon was preached by Dr. 
 Doane. The church was thronged with thousands of all ranks ; 
 upwards of one thousand communicated, and the offertory 
 amounted to 620/. 14^-. 
 
 1 The principal rlimcnsions of the cliurc!) are as follows : length, 180 ft. 7 in. ; 
 width, 86 ft. ; length of transept, loi ft. ; height of tower, 139 ft.
 
 oo 
 
 4 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1841- 
 
 In the music hall, after the consecration, an address from 
 the Vicar and clergy of Leeds was presented to the aged 
 Metropolitan, thanking him for his presence, and expressing 
 their grateful recollection of his benign and paternal rule 
 during his former connexion with them as their diocesan. 
 
 In returning thanks at the public luncheon after his health 
 had been drunk, the Vicar, according to his wont, gave all the 
 ■credit of the work which had been just accomplished to his 
 parishioners. ' I thank the men of Leeds,' he said, ' the noble 
 iind true-hearted churchmen of Leeds,' and he singled out 
 among many who had been distinguished for their zealous 
 ■exertions in the cause, certain members of the committee to 
 whom his gratitude was more especially due : Mr. Hall, Mr. 
 John Gott, Mr. Beckett, Mr. ^Vlaude, and above all the 
 indefatigable secretaries, Mr. Horsfall, and Mr. Joseph Mason 
 Tennant. 
 
 Nor were the poor forgotten amidst the rejoicing of their 
 richer brethren. A sum of money had been raised by the 
 •clergy of the parish church which enabled them to purchase 
 about 5,000 lbs. of meat, which were given away to u])wards of 
 1,500 families. 
 
 There were full services with sermons on the Friday and 
 Saturday after the consecration day. The Vicar preached on 
 the morning of Friday, taking for his text i Chron. xxix. i : 
 ' The palace is not for man, but for the Lord God.' The chief 
 aim of the sermon was to show that as the tabernacle, and 
 afterwards the temple, was the palace of God, the King of the 
 Jews, so every Christian Church was a palace wherein homage 
 was to be paid to Christ our heavenly King ; and that conse- 
 quently, whether large or small, humble or magnificent, it 
 should be the very best which the condition of the King's 
 subjects enabled them to erect. 'We admit,' he said, 'that 
 there may be circumstances under which the lowly hovel may 
 be a fit place for Christian worship as well as for the preaching 
 of the Gospel; but then of the hovels that surround it, it ought 
 to be the best . . . But in a wealthy town, where our mer- 
 chants, the princes of the earth, dwell in their ceiled houses,
 
 -1843 Consecration of Parish Church. 335 
 
 we should expect to behold a pious people lavishing their 
 money in order to decorate the palace of their God: and they 
 would feel ashamed to see this house alone unadorned by 
 those arts in which He has inspired our Bezaleels and Aholiabs 
 to excel. So have felt the churchmen of Leeds. Nobly, 
 generously, piously have they come forward, the rich with their 
 gold and the poor with their brass,' all desirous — before they 
 erect, as I trust they will do, a multitude of humbler oratories 
 like aisles to this church, in the poorer districts of the parish- 
 all desirous to see their parish church what the palace of their 
 heavenly King ought in this great and generous town to be.' 
 
 This true and sound principle, that whatever was given to 
 God should be the very best which man could offer, animated 
 the Vicar in all his regulations respecting the parish church. 
 A large number of the parishioners had expressed a strong 
 desire that in the new church daily choral service should be 
 celebrated. To this request the Vicar wiUingly acceded on 
 one condition, that no expense should be spared to ensure that 
 the music should be in every respect absolutely first-rate. 
 And so with regard to all the ornaments and fittings of the 
 church; they might be plain, but he insisted that they should 
 be thoroughly substantial and good of their kind. 
 
 On the first Sunday after the consecration there was an 
 early celebration of Holy Communion, and three full services, 
 morning, afternoon, and evening. The Vicar, in his anxiety 
 that everything should be properly ordered and arranged, spent 
 the whole day, partly in the church, jjartly in the vestry, from 
 fight o'clock in the morning till half-past nine in the evening. 
 Tlie sermons were preached by Dr. Musgrave, the Archdeacon 
 of Craven, the Rev. John J ebb, Prebendary of Limerick, and 
 the Rev. R. J. Wilberforce, Archdeacon of the East Riding. 
 'J'he aggregate of the offertories presented at the services during 
 the four days, from Thursday to Sunday, amounted to 1,265/. 
 
 I shall now follow tlie course of the Vicar's connexion with 
 public events during the remainder of the period covered by 
 
 ' Exod. xxxv. 5. The stained glass in the north-east clerestory window 
 v.as given by working [)eoplc, and the window is called ' the poor mans window."
 
 336 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1841- 
 
 this chapter, reserving for the close of it some account of his 
 parochial labours. 
 
 The establishment of a Protestant bishopric at Jerusalem 
 has been so utterly barren of results, good or bad, that it would 
 not be worth while to touch upon the matter had it not excited 
 much commotion and discussion in the Church at the time. 
 The abhorrence with which the act was regarded by Mr. New- 
 man must be reckoned as one of the motive forces which 
 impelled him in the direction of Rome; and, on the other 
 hand, the support given to the project by the Vicar of Leeds 
 was his first publicly deckired divergence from the views of the 
 Tractarian school. 
 
 Since the year 1833 Ibrahim the Pasha of Egypt had been 
 endeavouring to make himself master of Syria, and but for the 
 interposition of the great Powers of Europe would probably 
 have succeeded in his attempt. By the year 1840 he had 
 ompletely overrun the country, and was ruHng it with such an 
 amount of wisdom and justice as it had never enjoyed since 
 the days of Solyman. The Sultan, unable to subdue the revolt, 
 appealed for aid to England and the other great Powers. 
 Their combined forces defeated the Pasha, and thus enabled 
 the Sultan to continue his misgovernment and oppression of 
 some of the fairest and most fertile regions on the face of the 
 globe. The King of Prussia, Frederick William IV., considered 
 this resettlement, as it was called, of the Syrian province by 
 the alliance of the great Powers a favourable opportunity for 
 improving the status of German Protestants resident in the 
 Holy Land. The Greek, Latin, and Armenian Churches were 
 represented by their bishops, but of the German Evangelical 
 Church, as it was called, and of the Anglican Communion 
 there were no representatives. Accordingly in the year 1841 
 the king sent over to England the Chevalier Bunsen, as his 
 special envoy, to submit to the Government, the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury, and the Bishop of London, a proposal that a 
 bishop should be consecrated in England for Jerusalem. He 
 was to superintend members of the Anglican, and of the 
 German Evangelical Church, sojourning in those parts, and of
 
 -1 843 ^-^^ yerusalem BisJiopric. 2>o7 
 
 any other Protestant communities which might be wiUing to 
 place themselves under his jurisdiction. He was also to 
 promote conversions among the Jews, and to cultivate friendly 
 relations with the orthodox Greek Church. The design was 
 favourably received by the Government under Sir Robert Peel 
 (who came into power in the summer of this year), by Arch- 
 bishop Howley, and Bishop Blomfield, and an Act of Parlia- 
 ment was passed October 5, 1841, to carry it into effect. 
 
 It was agreed between the King of Prussia and the authori- 
 ties with whom he treated in England, that the Prussian and 
 British crowns should alternately nominate to the Bishopric: 
 that he himself should supply half the endowment, the rest 
 being made up by voluntary subscriptions from this country. 
 The Bishop was to ordain, as occasion might require, natives 
 of Germany, who were willing to subscribe the Thirty-nine 
 Articles, and the Confession of Augsburg. 
 
 On November 7, 1841, Michael Solomon Alexander was 
 consecrated for these purposes Bishop of Jerusalem by the 
 Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of London, the Bishop 
 of Rochester, and Bishop Selwyn, who had been consecrated 
 in the previous month Bishop of New Zealand. 
 
 The public opinion of the English Church upon this pro- 
 ceeding was divided into three main sections. 
 
 The Broad Church school rejoiced at a measure which 
 seemed to be a step towards effacing those distinctions in 
 doctrines and formularies which formed, in their opinion, the 
 great barriers to union amongst Christians. 
 
 On the other hand, Mr. Newman and the Tractarians 
 generally were, for the same reasons which delighted the Broad 
 party, horror-stricken at the project. For the Church of Eng- 
 land to enter into an alliance with Lutherans and Calvinists, 
 to admit them to communion with herself without exacting a 
 formal renunciation of error on their part, and to constitute 
 herself the protector of Monophysites, Nestorians, or any other 
 heretical sects in the East, was an unwarrantable affront to the 
 Cireek and Latin Churches, a most deplorable ai)ostasy from 
 the purity of her own principles, and a serious diminution of 
 
 Z
 
 33S Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1841- 
 
 her claim to be considered a true branch of the Church 
 Cathohc. ' May that measure,' wrote Mr. Newman, ' utterly 
 fail and come to nought, and be as though it had never been.' 
 
 A third party, composed of many sound High Churchmen 
 and some Evangelicals, advocated the measure under the 
 persuasion, or the hope, that it would be the means of drawing 
 many German Protestants, and some of the Eastern Christians, 
 into the Anglican Communion, and possibly of converting large 
 numbers of Jews to the Christian faith. 
 
 To the surprise and vexation of some, and the gratification 
 of others, the Vicar of Leeds subscribed to the fund for the 
 support of the Bishopric, and vindicated the wisdom and pro- 
 priety of the measure in a published letter addressed to a 
 dissentient friend. He maintained, in the first place, that the 
 establishment of an English Bishop at Jerusalem could not 
 reasonably be regarded as an insult to the Greek, Latin, and 
 Armenian Churches. He was by the terms of his appointment 
 expressly forbidden to interfere with them, and instructed to 
 cultivate relations of amity with them. On the other hand, 
 the Orientals knew as well as we did that it was impossible for 
 us to enter into communion with them unless they recognised 
 the principles of our Reformation. If we wished them to 
 adopt a canonical Reformation — to understand how a Church 
 could be reformed and yet remain Catholic — it was important 
 to let them see that one of the main foundations of Catho- 
 licism, the Apostolical Succession, was preserved amongst us. 
 It could do them no harm to assert the dignity of our Church 
 side by side with others, and it might do them good. 
 
 Secondly, he begged those who were distressed by the 
 supposed violation of our principles, and who thought that the 
 character of the whole English Church was compromised by 
 the measure, to bear in mind that it was the act not of the 
 Church of England, but only of the primate and those prelates 
 who co-operated with him. The Church of England was 
 governed not by bishops only, but by the bishops in conjunc- 
 tion with the presbyters : she was not represented by the 
 bishops and Parliament, but by Convocation and Parliament ;
 
 -1 843 The y erusalem Bishopric, 
 
 and so long therefore as there was no convocation there could 
 be no act done by the Church of England. The measure 
 under consideration had been adopted by one order only of 
 the ministry — it was no act of the Church as a whole — it was 
 open for individual members of the second order, and for the 
 laity, to participate in it or not at their discretion. 
 
 Thirdly, turning to the more difficult and delicate part 
 •of the question, the connexion with Prussian Protestants, he 
 maintained that a broad distinction should be made between 
 them and those ultra Protestants in England who had seceded 
 from the Church, or who, remaining within the pale, violated 
 all her principles. The German Protestants never had an 
 opportunity of embracing Catholicism as detached from the 
 corruptions of Rome, whereas ultra Protestants in England 
 had either left the Catholic Church, or if they remained in it, 
 remained only to violate its laws, while they confounded Catho- 
 licism with Popery. The Prussian Protestants, on the con- 
 trary, so far from being opposed to the notion of the Catholic 
 Church, had actually applied at one time to our Church for 
 the Episcopal succession, and it was only through the luke- 
 warmness of Archbishop Tennison that they had failed to 
 obtain it. The confession of Augsburg also contained very 
 high doctrine on the subject of the Sacraments. 
 
 Lastly he maintained, following in this respect the line of 
 argument adopted by Mr. James R. Hope, a lawyer, who had 
 written a very able pamphlet against the Bishopric, that the 
 Bishop, being a Bishop of the Church of England, could not 
 as such, without the sin of perjury, deliberately set aside the 
 canons and rules of the Church of England, which he had 
 sworn at consecration to obey, respecting the admission of lay- 
 men to communion, and of candidates to ordination. Practi- 
 cally therefore, if the Bishop were to exercise spiritual juris- 
 diction over Prussians in Palestine, the first step they would 
 have to take would be to conform to our Church : since we 
 could not renounce Catholicism, they must, in point of fact, 
 become Catholics. And this was precisely the position which 
 he wished to see the Church of England occupy in foreign 
 
 z 2
 
 340 Life of Walter Fai-quhar Hook. 1841- 
 
 parts. He regarded her as providentially preserved to be a 
 moderator as well for Protestants as for Catholics. 
 
 The Vicar in fact anticipated the same kind of advantages 
 from the mission of Bishop Alexander which he had sixteen 
 years before anticipated from the mission of Bishop Luscombe : 
 but his hopes were unfortunately doomed to equal disappoint- 
 ment in both cases. There can be no harm in remarking, what 
 is notorious, that the Bishopric at Jerusalem has been an 
 almost total failure. 
 
 It is to be feared, indeed, that though King Frederick 
 William IV. was a sincerely good and religious man, and 
 honestly desirous to promote what he believed to be Christian 
 truth, 3'et political and commercial considerations had their 
 share in prompting the proposal which he made to the English 
 Government and Bishops. This, in fact, was very plainly con- 
 fessed in one of the royal Prussian documents on the subject 
 which speaks of the political importance of securing to the 
 ' Evangelical Church ' the same legal recognition in Turkey 
 which the Greek and Latin Churches had long enjoyed, and of 
 the probable immigration of settlers which might be looked for 
 owing to that recognition. 
 
 But these sublunary motives were either overlooked or dis- 
 regarded by those advocates of the measure, who thought they 
 perceived in it a grand opportunity for extending the influence 
 of the English Church. The pamphlet of the Vicar of Leeds 
 was hailed with gi-eat satisfaction by most of them : by none 
 more than Archbishop Howley, who wrote at considerable 
 length to thank him for it, the Archbishop of York, the Bishop 
 of Lincoln (Dr. Kaye), and Dr. Jelf, Canon of Christ Church, 
 Oxford. 
 
 On the other hand, the line taken by the Vicar on this 
 question placed him, for the time, in direct antagonism to the 
 Tractarian school. It is indeed more than probable that an 
 increasing distrust on his part of some members of that school, 
 and a growing dissatisfaction with the tendency of their 
 opinions, had a share in disposing him to adopt that view on 
 the subject which was opposed to theirs. In their reluctance
 
 -iS43 Rise of a New Party. 341 
 
 to enter into any kind of alliance with the Prussian Protestants, 
 and in their inclination to regard the mission of an English 
 bishop to Jerusalem as a kind of affront to those branches of 
 the Catholic Church already represented there, he thought he 
 perceived an instance of that depreciation of the Reformation 
 ■which he had lamented from the first in the writings of Mr. 
 Hurrell Froude, and some of the more extreme disciples of the 
 school. This disparaging tone of language, especially towards 
 the Reformation of the English Church, was now continually 
 being pitched in a louder key by the writers in the ' British 
 Critic,' of which Mr, Newman had ceased to be the editor in 
 the summer of 1841. A new party seemed to be rising, as 
 different in its teaching from the original Tractarians as they 
 had been from the Evangelicals : a party pointing to the 
 mediaeval rather than the primitive Church as the pattern of all 
 that was excellent in doctrine and practice ; viewing the English 
 Reformers and their work with suspicion if not aversion, the 
 Romanists with leniency and favour. 
 
 The Vicar of Leeds and his friend Mr. Palmer of Worcester 
 College were loud and earnest in protesting against the teach 
 ing of this school, and in warning alike the most eminent of 
 the old Tractarian leaders, and churchmen generally, against its 
 pernicious tendency. 
 
 Mr.. Palmer, in a private letter written to Dr. Hook from 
 Oxford about eighteen months later, in August 1843, ^^' 
 presses the utmost alarm at the growth of that new party 
 whose opinions and sentiments were represented by the 
 * British Critic' 
 
 I know (he says) that Pusey and Williams, and others of the 
 *■ Tract Connexion,' are very uneasy at the change of tone— the 
 doctrine of development in particular, which represents Romish 
 errors and superstitions, and the Papal infallibility, &c. as develop- 
 ments of primitive Christianity. What may be Newman's views I 
 know not. There is some mystery which I cannot penetrate. He 
 is on intimate terms, however, with Ward and Oakley, who are the 
 heads of the Romanising school, and I fear that he may be too 
 much under their influence. One thing is certain, that Pusey and
 
 342 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1841- 
 
 other old leaders have no longer the control over their disciples 
 which they had, and that the tendency to Romanism is daily be- 
 coming more evident in publications, and in private society. . . . 
 The ' British Critic ' is now continually subverting the general 
 principles of the Tracts, and pointing to the twelfth or thirteenth 
 century instead of the first three or four. . . . Now the evil of this 
 is that we may remonstrate — we may even publicly dissent on cer- 
 tain points, but still the world mixes us and our principles entirely 
 with the ultra men I have spoken of. And what must be the re- 
 sult ? I do not speak of individual sufferings, for that is nothing — 
 but of the result to the Church at large. Does it not tend then to- 
 the revival of Puritanism, to the destruction of Church principles, 
 to the expulsion of them from the Church and from our formularies? 
 Let the present system go on unchecked — let us still be confounded 
 with ultra men, let Church principles be identified with Romish 
 tendencies, and I really can see no other prospect before us. 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, the dissent of the Vicar of Leeds 
 from the teaching of this new offshoot of the Tractarian school, 
 he boldly and firmly continued to stand by his old friends, who 
 belonged to that school, when they were the victims of attacks 
 which he considered to be the offspring of party spirit. He 
 did his utmost to promote the election in 1842 to the Professor- 
 ship of Poetry of the Rev. Isaac Williams, whose qualifications 
 he considered infinitely superior to those of Mr. Garbett, the 
 candidate brought forward by the Evangelical party. He 
 deplored the introduction of religious difterences into the com- 
 petition for such appointments ; and in the same spirit many 
 years afterwards he protested against withholding the salary of 
 the Professorship of Greek from Mr. Jowett on the ground of his 
 religious opinions, diametrically opposed though those opinions 
 were to his own. 
 
 In like manner he openly avowed his indignation at the 
 arbitrary way in which, in the year 1843, Dr. Pusey's sermon 
 on the Holy Eucharist was condemned, and the author sus- 
 pended for two years from the office of preacher before the 
 University. The sermon had been preached by Dr. Pusey on 
 May 14 in the Cathedral at Oxford. The Margaret Professor 
 of Divinity had called for a copy of the sermon and trans-
 
 -1 843 Dr. Hook defends Dr. Piisey. 343 
 
 mitted it to the Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Wynter. The Vice- 
 Chancellor appointed a board to examine and report on its 
 contents. The Board consisted of himself, Dr. Faussett, Dr. 
 Ogilvie Regius Professor of Pastoral Theology, Dr. Hawkins 
 Provost of Oriel, Dr. Symons Warden of VVadham, and Dr. 
 Jelf Canon of Christ Church. Of these six all but Dr. Jelf, and 
 perhaps one other, were notorious and vehement opponents of 
 the Tractarian school. Dr. Pusey requested the Board to give 
 him a hearing, — claimed it, indeed, under the statute by which 
 they had been called together ; but the request was denied. 
 The sentence of condemnation and suspension was issued on 
 June 2. The specific grounds of complaint against the sermon 
 were not stated, nor were the objectionable passages indicated. 
 A very large majority of the resident members of Convocation, 
 and 230 non-resident members, eminent among whom were 
 Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Justice Coleridge, and the Vicar of Leeds, 
 respectfully begged permission to address the Vice- Chancellor 
 on the subject, but their applications were refused. The in- 
 dignation of the Vicar at this outrageous conduct was irrepres- 
 sible ; and all the more because the condemned sermon was, 
 in his judgment, irreproachable in its doctrine. Being requested 
 to publish a sermon which he preached on July 22 at the 
 consecration of St. John Baptist's Church in the parish of 
 Hawarden,^ he prefaced it with the following dedication to Dr. 
 Pusey : 
 
 Notwithstanding an occasional difiference of opinion on matters 
 of importance, our friendship has lasted for more than a quarter of 
 a centur)'. I feel therefore that I am not taking too great a liberty 
 when, by dedicating this sermon to you, I avail myself of the oppor- 
 tunity to record my respect for the profound learning, the unim- 
 peachable orthodoxy, and the Christian temper with which, in the 
 midst of a faithless and pharisaical generation, you have maintained 
 the cause of true religion, and preached the pure unadulterated 
 word of God. 
 
 By the pubhcation of your truly evangehcal Sermon on tlie 
 Eucharist you have put to silence the ignorance of fooHsh men, and 
 
 • Entitled 'Mutual Forbearance recommended in Things Indifferent,' No. 
 XX. in vol. ii. of The Church and her Ordinances.
 
 344 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1841- 
 
 I am only uttering the sentiments of thousands when I venture to 
 affirm that it may be said of you, as it was said of one who suffered 
 injustice from the Church of Rome, tliat if, peradventure, you have 
 erred by loving your God too mucli, your enemies have erred by 
 loving their neighbours too little. 
 
 ' Nullius addictus jurare in verba magislri,' I do not pledge 
 myself by this dedication to support all the opinions which you have 
 in your writings advanced ; but I know the piety of your heart, 
 and your devotion to the cause of Christ and His Church, and I 
 shall ever feel it to be an honour, through evil report and good 
 report, to be permitted to subscribe myself, my dear sir, 
 
 Your affectionate friend. 
 
 This vehement expression of his feelings was exceedingly 
 regretted by many of his friends, who thought it was calculated 
 to exasperate the opponents of Dr. Pusey, and also to embroil 
 the writer in fresli difficulties, by fostering the still prevalent 
 notion that he was a thorough partisan of the Tractarian 
 school. A long correspondence took place between him and 
 Dr. Jelf, whom he was disposed to blame for not having in- 
 fluenced the Board to follow a more equitable course of action. 
 Dr. Jelf endeavoured to prove that he had done all he could, 
 and that it would have ill become him, after the decision had 
 been issued, to have published his dissent : to have descended 
 from the office of juryman and judge into that of an advocate 
 and partisan. 
 
 I contented myself (he said) with discharging my painful func- 
 tions honestly and faithfully, without fear or favour : that being 
 done, my office expired, and I was silent, and the more conscien- 
 tiously so, because my dear friend (Dr. Pusey) determined upon 
 publishing his sermon. From that moment my judgment, whatever 
 it was, had no more weight than that of millions. . . . Forgive me 
 if I say that I deeply regret the line you have adopted. You have 
 been made the instrument in God's hands of working a mighty 
 change within your own neighbourhood— indeed throughout all 
 England — and your character is in an especial manner the property 
 of the Church. Your dedication has injured Jier. Virtually it is a 
 dedication not to Pusey (who is guilelessness and catholicity itself), 
 but to \X\G Piwty who are using his name as a tool; the party of the
 
 -1 843 Nationcil Editcation. 345 
 
 disaffected, the disaffected to the University and the Church. You 
 Avill be lauded in the ' British Critic;' you have gratified your own 
 liigh, and noble, chivalrous spirit ; your example will be followed by 
 hundreds of high-minded men ; you are the champion of the 
 oppressed. Yet, all this notwithstanding, wise and good men will 
 regret your dedication, not only the terms of it, which (again forgive 
 my plainness) appear hardly befitting your high station (for what 
 have you to do with calling names ?) : they will regret your having 
 jjublished any such dedication at all. You might have defended 
 and enforced the doctrine supposed to be impugned, and your 
 voice would have been heard even by the prejudiced. Hence- 
 forward such persons will, I fear, turn from any such expositions of 
 catholic truth from you, because you are, unjustly no doubt, sup- 
 posed to identify yourself with the malcontent party. 
 
 Such was the light in which the dedication appeared to 
 colder, more cautious and diplomatic natures than the writer's. 
 But this was just one of the occasions on which the fiery 
 impetuosity of his honest nature could not be restrained. He 
 abhorred injustice ; he abhorred anything which savoured of 
 oppression and persecution, especially in religion, and at all 
 ■costs and risks he could not forbear denouncing it. 
 
 The subject of national education was again prominent in 
 the year 1843. It was brought forward in the House of 
 Commons by Lord Ashley, who, in a long speech full of 
 statistical details, depicted the fearful amount of vice and 
 brutish ignorance in which a large proportion of the population 
 was sunk, and the danger to the country with w^hich such a 
 condition of things was charged. He proved that upwards of 
 one million of children were not receiving any instruction 
 whatever. He urged a more liberal application of public 
 money for the extension of national education as the best 
 means of reducing the expenditure required for the repression 
 of crime. The annual sum voted for education, for the whole 
 of England, was at that time only 30,000/., while the total 
 annual expenditure for the punishment of crime in the county 
 of Lancaster alone was upwards of 600,000/. He moved that ' a 
 humble address be presented to her Majesty praying that she
 
 34^ Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1841- 
 
 would be graciously pleased to take into her instant and serious 
 consideration the best means of diffusing the benefits of a moral 
 and religious education among the working classes of the 
 people.' The motion was well received, and the Government 
 prepared a measure. It was directed mainly to the compulsory 
 education of two classes of children — those who were the off- 
 spring of paupers, and those who were employed in factories. 
 District schools under the superintendence of the clergy were 
 to be established in the great towns for the children of paupers, 
 and of others who might wish to use them, provision being made 
 for the religious instruction of children of dissenting parents by 
 ministers of their own denomination. 
 
 With regard to factory children it was proposed that, 
 between the ages of eight and thirteen, they should not be 
 employed more than six hours and a half a day, the whole work 
 to be done during the morning or the afternoon, certificates 
 being required of attendance during the other half of the day at 
 some school connected either with the National Society, the 
 British and Foreign Society, or, at some Roman Catholic school 
 if the children were Roman Catholics. In schools placed 
 under the care of the clergy the Bible and some portions of the 
 Liturgy were to be used. 
 
 The measure met with a favourable reception in the House, 
 but the Dissenters raised such an outcry against it, that, though 
 the second reading of the Factory Bill was carried by a 
 considerable majority, the Government abandoned the educa- 
 tional clauses in it. 
 
 The opinions of the Vicar upon the measure, and his views 
 generally, respecting the position and duties of the Church in 
 that crisis of the educational movement, will best be gathered 
 from the following letter to I\Ir. Gladstone. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : March 28, 1843. 
 
 My dear Mr. Gladstone, — I have been told that you wish to 
 know my opinions, as a practical man, of the proposed scheme of 
 factory education, and I shall be most happy to express to you my 
 thoughts freely. I do really think that the Church might keep the
 
 -i843 Lettej" to Mr. Gladstone. 347 
 
 whole of the education of the people, or nearly so, in her own 
 hands. No compromise of principle would be necessary. Only 
 open schools, and give a good education ; and as to the religious 
 department, such is the general indifference to religion in manu- 
 facturing districts, that not one person in a hundred would think of 
 interfering on the subject. They would rather say, give a good 
 secular education, cheap or gratis, and you may, as pay, inculcate 
 your own religious doctrines. 
 
 Dissenters and Papists send their children to our schools when 
 convenient, and Protestants send their children without hesitation 
 to the Roman Catholic schools. There is no popular feeling in 
 favour of Dissent. A few conscientious dissenters would keep their 
 children away, and would support schools for themselves ; and now 
 and then a zealous dissenting minister might create a little annoy- 
 ance. But we could educate the children of the poor, entirely on 
 Church principles, with very little difficulty, I am quite persuaded. 
 All that is wanted is money ; we require funds. If the thing is 
 desirable, why may not the bishops with the clergy of England tax 
 themselves fifty per cent., ay, if need should be, a hundred per 
 cent., and become beggars, rather than permit the education of 
 the people to pass out of their hands .'' We should not require any 
 such extreme measure as this ; but the sacrifice by the bishops of 
 one or two thousand a year out of their incomes, and by the other 
 wealthy clergymen of a certain sum in proportion, would be soon 
 followed by the laity ; and the funds might be entirely at the dis- 
 posal of the bishops, and Government might fairly say to dissenters, 
 ' Do as the Church has done, supply the funds for education on 
 your own principles.' But there is not sufficient piety in the Church 
 at present to act thus, to make such a sacrifice as this ; or rather 
 there is a monstrous notion that our bishops and clergy are to 
 demand all the money they require, whether for education or 
 church extension, of the State. The State is to supply the funds, 
 and the bishops and clergy to expend those funds as they think 
 fit. I call this a monstrous notion in a free State where there is 
 full toleration, and where the taxes are paid by dissenters as well 
 as by churchmen. If the Church supplies the funds, let the educa- 
 tion be an exclusively Church education ; if the State supplies the 
 funds, the State is in duty bound to regard the just claims of dis- 
 senters. Now, it seems to me that the State has given full time to 
 the Church to answer the question whether she can supply the funds. 
 The bishops have not offered to mortgage their estates and to
 
 34^ Life of Walter Farqichar Hook. 1841- 
 
 reduce their establishments ; they have not called upon their clergy 
 to do the same in order to raise a fund ; the verj^ idea would be 
 scouted. The Church answers in the negative, and therefore the 
 State must act. And what has the State done .'' it has done every- 
 thing in its power to give precedence to the Church, and greater 
 favour than this the lukewarm Church does not deserve, and in 
 justice the State could not ofter. In the general principle of the 
 present measure, a principle 1 have often discussed with my friend 
 Mr. vSaunders, I entirely concur. Let the National Society support 
 schools on exclusively Church principles ; let the Government 
 adopt more general principles. 1 would never permit the Church 
 to concede a principle, but I would have the State adhere to 
 her principles, the principles of our existing constitution, that 
 while she encourages and supports the Church, she legislates for 
 all her children, whether churchmen or dissenters. I hope that all 
 good churchmen will receive this measure as a boon. There is 
 only one legitimate way of opposing it, and he who should propose 
 it would be immediately shut up as a madman ; that is, by our 
 bishops going to Sir Robert Peel, and saying, from the property of 
 the Church we will raise a hundred thousand a year, if you will 
 leave the education of the people in our hands. In that opposition 
 I would join, and it would soon cease to be an opposition ; for I 
 suspect Sir Robert would be as glad as anyone else to assent to the 
 proposal. But this is out of the question ; I merely mentioned it 
 to one great churchman, and I was called a ' filthy dreamer.' It 
 would indeed be absurd to allude to the subject in these days, 
 except as an argument to silence opponents. 1 write in haste. 
 During Lent I have no time to spare from my parish work, as I 
 preach and lecture fi\e times in the week ; my head as well as my 
 feet (the first in composing sermons, the second in carrj'ing me to 
 the sick) are completely occupied. 
 
 I conclude this chapter with a few notices of the Vicar's 
 parochial work, taking it up from the date of the consecration 
 of the parish church. The two years which followed that event 
 were a period during which his influence was greatly extended 
 and consolidated. In the first place, having got his church, 
 and being enormously proud of it, and zealously determined to 
 make it the great centre of spiritual life in the place, he kept 
 very close to it for a considerable time, refusing most invitations
 
 -1 843 Dr. Doanes Reminiscences. 349 
 
 to preach elsewhere. In a letter declining to pay a visit, which 
 was to include Sunday, at Bishopsthorpe (Archbishop Harcourt's), 
 he says : ' I catechize upwards of 1,000 children every Sunday 
 afternoon, and I have succeeded in making this duty inte- 
 resting to a large congregation. I am pursuing a course of 
 catechetical instruction, so that I could not delegate the duty 
 to another, and any interruption of the course, until the custom 
 is fully established, would be injurious.' Besides catechizing 
 in the afternoon he commonly preached twice on Sundays at 
 the parish church, and conducted various classes of instruction 
 in the course of the week. Bishop Doane has given an account 
 of one of these to which he accompanied the Vicar. 
 
 I reached Leeds early in the afternoon. He was going to one 
 of his district classes in the evening, and asked me if I should like 
 to go with him. Through narrow, crooked, crowded streets we 
 reached a shabby old building, and went up by a rickety staircase to 
 a dirty, half-lighted schoolroom. Some fifty or sixty poor men and 
 women were assembled there. There was a small organ, and part 
 of the Liturgy was sung. Then the Vicar read a chapter from St. 
 John's Gospel, and made a plain familiar exposition of it. After 
 this he entered into friendly and familiar conversation with the 
 people, told them how one of his curates had just been ordained 
 priest, how another who had married the year before had just 
 become a father, and so on. Then he called their names, and they 
 came one by one and laid a penny or twopence on a table by him 
 as their weekly contribution to the District Library of Religious 
 Knowledge. Lastly he asked me to dismiss them with the blessing. 
 
 The floor of the new parish church was free, and the poor 
 were able to attend in large numbers, and to join in services, 
 which they had neither been able to hear nor witness, when 
 they were driven into dark corners under overhanging galleries, 
 or behind high and cumbrous pews. 
 
 During the season of Advent, evening services were held in 
 the north aisle of the choir, which is fitted up as a kind of side 
 chapel. The enjoyment which one of the congregation de- 
 rived from them was expressed in forcible language which the 
 Vicar never forgot. After Advent the services were discon-
 
 350 Life of Walter Faj'qiiJiar Hook. 1841- 
 
 tinued. An old woman who had attended them very regu- 
 larly, came to the Vicar and said : ' Eh, Vicar ! why do ye 
 drap them services ? ' The Vicar explained that similar ser- 
 vices would be held probably in Lent, or when Advent came 
 round again. 'Eh! well,' said the woman, 'I'm glad ye're 
 not going to drap them, for they've been lamb and salad 
 to my soul.' And in consequence of this memorable simile 
 the aisle has been •ommonly called Lamb and Salad to this 
 day. 
 
 The election of churchwardens still continued to be an 
 occasion of anxiety, and sometimes of annoyance. Up to the 
 year 1842 the seven who were appointed for the parish were 
 commonly Dissenters, and for the most part either merchants 
 or engaged in business in a large way : some of them were 
 leading politicians in the town. But in 1842 a change took 
 place. At a large meeting held in March of that year three 
 lists were proposed. One of them consisted of Chartists, 
 another of Radicals. The Chartists were most of them 
 artisans or petty tradesmen. The Chartist list was carried. 
 The Vicar was in the chair, and in a letter to Mr. Wood he 
 says : 
 
 I was most impartial. The contest was between the Chartists 
 and the Radicals, and when the Chartists were declared church- 
 wardens, I said that though of course I should have been better 
 pleased had Churchmen been elected, yet I should trust those who 
 were appointed, to act with fairness and give me their candid sup- 
 port, and I should do the same by them. Many of them called 
 out, ' We like thee. Vicar, and won't harm thy Church,' and there 
 were loud cheers when a vote of thanks was passed to me as chair- 
 man. I shall behave to them, as to the late churchwardens, with 
 courtesy and kindness. Out of seven Dissenters elected last time 
 two have been converted to the Church. 
 
 The intercourse between the Vicar and his Chartist church- 
 wardens was always of the most amicable nature, although he 
 was strict in exacting from them the proper discharge of their 
 duties, as the following singularly humorous and clever letter 
 will show.
 
 -i843 Chartist Churchwardens. 351 
 
 To Mr. T. Garland, Vicai's chnrchiuarJen. 
 
 July 26, 1S42. 
 
 My dear Sir, — I beg to inform you, and through you the other 
 churchwardens, that a complaint has been made to me that the 
 parish church was not swept last week, and upon enquiry I find 
 that Mrs. Fothergill has received notice from the churchwardens 
 that they will not pay her any longer for discharging this part of 
 their duty. 
 
 As the churchwardens are poor men, and seem to be without 
 friends to support them, they may be unable to pay Mrs. Fother- 
 gill ; but still it is part of the duty which they have taken upon 
 themselves to take care that the church is kept clean for the use of 
 the parishioners. It appears to me that it would be a good arrange- 
 ment for each of the churchwardens to be responsible in turn for 
 one week's cleaning of the church, so that those who can afford it 
 can pay for the services of Mrs. Fothergill, and those who cannot 
 can clean the church themselves. It is an honourable office, which 
 many churchmen would gladly discharge ; but if steps are not 
 taken for the cleaning of the church before the commencement of 
 next week, I shall, in conjunction with some of the parishioners, 
 give directions to Mrs. Fothergill to clean the church as usual, and 
 as she is a poor person I shall pay her, and we shall then bring 
 an action against the churchwardens for the repayment of the 
 money. 
 
 I shall be sorry to involve them in this expense, but, as they 
 voluntarily undertook the office, they cannot expect any sympathy 
 from the public, if they are found to be incompetent to discharge 
 the duties which devolve upon them, and the chief duty of the 
 churchwarden's office is to provide for the comfort of the parish- 
 ioners at public worship. 
 
 P.S. — The persons at whose request you were kind enough to 
 accept your very unpleasant office will, of course, defray any 
 expenses in which you are yourself involved either by lawsuit 
 or otherwise. 
 
 The following year there was again a large meeting held in 
 the Court House. Again three lists were brought forward. 
 The Vicar, who was Chairman, put the names on each list
 
 352 Life of Wa Iter Farqtihar Hook. 1 84 1 - 
 
 separately. Before so doing he observed that, the jcar before, 
 the working people had come to that hall fully resolved to 
 elect churchwardens from their own body ; and this he would 
 say, that they were the only churchwardens, since he came to 
 Leeds, who had, as a body, conducted themselves in a tho- 
 roughly honourable, straightforward, and gentlemanly manner. 
 (Loud and reiterated cheers.) They told him at once, in 
 entering upon their office, that on many points they disagreed 
 with him, but that having taken office, they were determined 
 conscientiously to discharge its duties. This they had done, 
 and better churchwardens he could not desire to have, unless 
 indeed the meeting did him the favour of electing men who 
 belonged to the Established Church. The Chartist list, how- 
 ever, was again carried, and consisted of a corn miller, a cloth 
 dresser, a shoemaker, a press setter, a shopkeeper, a flour 
 dealer and a broker. A vote of thanks to the Vicar as chair- 
 man was proposed and seconded by Chartists, and so he 
 entered upon another year with this singular band of Church 
 officials. But, as before, he had no reason to complain. 
 They conscientiously discharged the duties which they had 
 undertaken. Some of them became attached to him, and all 
 were friendly. To one of them he presented a large and 
 handsome Bible. The recipient, now dead, became one of his 
 warm admirers, and a regular attendant at the parish church. 
 And if men, predisposed to regard the Church with aver- 
 sion or suspicion, fell under the spell of the Vicar's influence 
 when brought into personal contact with him, the devotion of 
 others who had not such prejudices to surmount m.ay the 
 more easily be imagined. To sum it up in one sentence, they 
 were ready to do anything for him, or for the Church which he 
 taught them to love. He was gradually also surrounding him- 
 self with a staff of clergy, both as curates to the parish church, 
 and to those other churches in the town, of whicTi he held the 
 patronage, on whom he could rely to work according to his 
 own principles. Such were Mr. Poole, the curate of St. 
 James's, and Mr. Nunns, of St. Paul's. The keen anxiety 
 which he felt to secure men whom he believed to be the best
 
 -1 843 Appointment of a Vicar. 35 
 
 v5DJ) 
 
 fitted for the work he had to assign them, may be estimated 
 from the following remarkable letters respecting the appoint- 
 ment of INIr. Nunns. 
 
 From the Rev. T. Nitnns to his wife. 
 
 Leeds : May 24, 1843. 
 The service began and was conducted in a way that I shall 
 never forget. Hook read the second Lesson. I did not speak to 
 him till after. He then asked me, after some talk in the church, 
 what I thought of his offer. When I told him that I thought 
 favourably of it, he prostrated himself on the floor, and, for some 
 minutes, was engaged in thanksgiving that his prayers were heard. 
 This was almost more than I could bear, and there had nearly 
 been a scene ; but I was, though tired and weakish, composed. 
 
 To the Rev. T. Nimns. 
 
 Leeds : June 2, 1843. 
 Of Mr. Haycock I never heard before. I will enquire into 
 his character and tell you all about him. Whether I shall be able 
 to see those who can give me infonnation to-day, I know not. 
 The poor man seems to be possessed of the devil. But you must 
 expect a letter or two of that sort ; I had many before I went to 
 Coventry', and not a few before coming here. One I remember 
 which was very laconic : ' Reverend Sir, come not to a people who 
 neither wish for you, nor pray for you.' I am happy to say that 
 Meredyth is doing your work gloriously. Last Sunday he and a 
 friend of his lamented the lot of the poor congregation from whose 
 candlestick the light was to be removed, and they were so violent 
 as to disgust all but a few like Mr. Heycock. 
 
 In another letter : 
 
 All good people are longing to see you, and all bad people are 
 determined cordially to hate you, and therefore in my opinion you 
 begin well. There will be no lukewarmness, which is the most 
 detestable of all things. 
 
 To the saine. 
 
 Northfield : November 3, 1843. 
 Your letter has gratified me by the true and fervent friendship 
 which it evinces, but at the same time humbles me to the very dust, 
 
 A A
 
 354 Life of Walter Fa^^quhar Hook. 1841- 
 
 as it bestows upon me praise which my conscience tells me that I, 
 a poor unworthy sinner, do not deserve. 
 
 That one in every way so unworthy should be permitted to 
 labour in God's service, in some degree to see what is not always 
 granted, the fruit of his labour, is to me a source of the deepest 
 gratitude ; but when I think of my many deficiencies and all my 
 offences, the many sin-marks that arc upon my poor soul, I can 
 only stand with the penitent publican and say, ' God be merciful to 
 me a sinner.' 
 
 When good and pious men write to me as you have done, these 
 sad, humiliating thoughts overwhelm me. Oh ! God grant for 
 His dear Son's sake that we, my dear good friend, may meet in His 
 everlasting kingdom, and there be able to look back on past trials 
 and dangers with that delight with which those who have been 
 saved from shipwreck look back upon the stormy ocean. 
 
 I am truly glad of one thing, that you have not been dis- 
 heartened by your reception at Leeds. I felt verj^ deeply for you. 
 I had undergone the same, but my sanguine and presumptuous 
 spirit requires these checks, and being over-praised by some I ought 
 to be over-censured by others. It is absolutely necessary, as 1 per- 
 ceive, for my soul's health that I should undergo a good deal of 
 obloquy and hatred, for I am over-desirous of being loved, and of 
 returning love for love. 
 
 There is a tone almost of prophecy in this letter ; for 
 times of severe chastening were at hand. 
 
 GENERAL LETTERS, 1841-1843. 
 
 To W. P. I Food, Esq. — Hard Work — Forination of a Choir. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : February lo, 1841. 
 
 I cannot write to you at length, but I will send a line, if it be 
 only to say how very much delighted I was to see your hand- 
 writing again. You have no conception of the number of letters I 
 have to write, all a sheer waste of time and health. I have before 
 me I know not how many to answer. I could sometimes almost 
 sit down and cry at what I have to do, and almost all is on other
 
 -1843 Letters, 1841-1843. 355 
 
 men's business. I am indeed perplexed when I think of what is 
 before me. The incessant interruptions to which I am exposed 
 till ten o'clock at night, that sweet hour of repose, almost drive me 
 mad — one business after another. From ten to two I will not 
 work in general, but I am then too tired to do much. I am now 
 fully occupied in preparing to form a choir, a subject on which I 
 am profoundly ignorant ; but John Jebb has kindly assisted me. 
 I have secured a man named Hill and his nephew from West- 
 minster Abbey. I am to pay them 120/. a year. How I shall 
 raise the money I know not ; but this I know, a good choir must 
 be formed, if I go to prison for it. My whole heart is set on this 
 business ; I mean to give any money for singers, and then I shall 
 go and beg and preach. Get into a scrape, and then your friends 
 must help you out — this is the only way to get things done in this 
 world. 
 
 To a Friend, 1841 — Obedience better than Opinions. 
 
 ' Observe,' says our Lord, ' what I have commanded you.' It 
 is not by opinions, but by observances, by our deeds, that we grow 
 in holiness. Try to be holy, labour to be holy, pray to become 
 holier ever}' day, but remember that prayer without exertion is 
 mockery. Let this be your only object. Have recourse for this 
 purpose to any and every kind of discipline not prohibited by the 
 Church. You will then find that you have little time for thinking 
 of the opinions of others, and God will lead you into all the truth 
 which is needful for you. 
 
 If you find that by the training of the Evangelical school you 
 increase in holiness by self-discipline, adhere to that school ; 
 through it you will pass, I doubt not, into the higher or Catholic 
 school. But, whatever you do, let your object be not to form 
 opinions, or to sit in judgment on the opinions of others, but simply 
 to become more holy ; and if, in their endeavours to become more 
 holy, some shall be led into absurdities, as you think them, whether 
 Methodistic or Popish absurdities, condemn them not, until you 
 hope that you have become as holy as they. Let me entreat and 
 implore you to make this your sole object ; and depend upon it that 
 if, in so doing, you shall be led to embrace opinions diametrically 
 opposed to mine, you will only meet with the most cordial 
 sympathy from me, so long as you can assure me that you are 
 improving. 
 
 A A 2
 
 356 Life of Waltei^ Farqiihar Hook. 
 
 To the same, 1841. 
 
 I know that in spite of my Poper)' your kindness is great and 
 unalterable. 
 
 I have not heard direct from Rome. But I am told upon 
 good authority that his Holiness the Pope, who was once given to 
 strong drink, has become a member of the Temperance Society. 
 What may we not expect of the members, if reformation thus com- 
 mences with the head ? When I go to Oscott to see Bishop Wise- 
 man and Mr. Sibthorpe, I will make further enquiry into this 
 important transaction. Whenever I go to that stronghold of Popery 
 you shall have a letter from your poor benighted friend. 
 
 P.S. — In the event of the Pope's death I am infonned that 
 Lord Ashley* will receive an offer of the papal throne. Don't tell 
 him this. 
 
 The Oxford Tracts — Position of Extreme Protestants in the 
 English Ciiiirch untejiable. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : August 6, 1841. 
 
 My dear Miss Harcourt, . . . The strongest work against 
 Popery that I have read, next to Mr. Palmers letters to Dr. Wise- 
 man, is Dr. Pusey's letter to Dr. Jelf on Tract No. 90. It is 
 curious to see the different impressions made upon different minds 
 by the same works. A very short time ago, a parishioner of mine 
 assured me that, except for the Oxford tracts, he should himself 
 have joined the Papists. Nor is this a solitary' instance ; an old 
 schoolfellow of mine who has turned Benedictine monk, and lives 
 in Paris, having very freely admitted the faults of the Galilean 
 Church to which he belongs, was brought almost to confess that if 
 the views brought before us by Dr. Pusey and Mr. Newman had 
 been brought before him in early life, he should have remained a 
 member of the Anglican Church. In mentioning works against 
 Romanism I ought not, by-the-bye, to omit Mi-. Newman's mas- 
 terly treatise on that subject. I cannot myself understand how 
 any person of a catholic spirit should be induced to leave the 
 Church of England for the Romish sect in this country. The 
 difficulty always appears to me to be, for a person with high Pro- 
 testant notions to reconcile the use of our Prayer Book with his 
 
 ' Now Lord Sliaftesbury.
 
 -i843 Letters, 1 841-1843. 357 
 
 principles : see, for example, the absolution in the office for the 
 visitation of the sick ; the form of ordaining priests, where the 
 bishop assumes the power of giving the Holy Ghost, and conveys 
 the power to the priest of remitting or retaining sins ; see also 
 the office for baptism, where a baptized child is spoken of as re- 
 generated. Many other instances might be produced in which 
 more of evasion and dishonesty and special pleading is necessaiy 
 to reconcile these practices with what are generally understood by 
 Protestant principles, than all the reasoning, so largely charged 
 with these vices, in Tract No. 90. I am quite sure that if I held 
 high Protestant opinions I could not, as an honest man, remain in 
 the Church of England ; I should become a Dissenter. As it is, I 
 thank God that I belong to that catholic body which is midway 
 between Popery and Protestantism ; but while I rejoice in my 
 privileges as an English Churchman, I do humbly hope that I can 
 make due allowance for, and treat with brotherly love, those of our 
 brethren who err on either side. 
 
 Parochial Managemejit. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds: September 24, 1841. 
 
 My dear Miss Harcourt, . . . My rule is never to attempt to 
 force people to do what is right, never to force even a right prac- 
 tice upon an unwilling people. When first I came to this parish 
 I altered nothing ; I even continued to read the Commandments 
 from the reading desk, because it was the custom of my prede- 
 cessor. My object is to assert principles and create a spirit 
 around me, which must be done by gentle training, not by dogma- 
 tism, until at last people begin to say, ' How inconsistent you are ! 
 Why do you not do as you tell us you ought to do ? ' and the plea- 
 sant answer is : ' Oh, very well ; if you wish it I will do so and so.' 
 This of course is in some degree a sacrifice of self, and is the more 
 painful, because by the smiles and sneers of inexperienced and 
 right-minded persons you are reproached for doing nothing ; when, 
 lo and behold ! all of a sudden they find the thing done, which, if 
 attempted in a tyrannical spirit, would have failed. If I had pro- 
 posed to erect the church I have erected, when first I came here, I 
 should only have been mocked ; still more absurd would it have 
 been to think of a choral service ; but now my people have done 
 more than I even desired, and the choral service has been even 
 f(jrccd upon mc. I venture to speak thus of what 1 ha\ e done my-
 
 35^ Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1841- 
 
 self, simply because it is only thus that 1 can exemplify my own 
 rule, and to show why I have succeeded where many have at- 
 tempted and failed. 
 
 I do not think any clergj'man ever had a larger body of sup- 
 porters than I have had, both at Coventry and here ; and I attri- 
 bute it to the fact that I never seek to tyrannise over them. I talk, 
 but never act until they are willing to act with me. Talk, talk, 
 talk, write, write, write ; little tracts, and little discussions, and 
 above all not a little opposition from the enemies of the Church ; 
 encourage and tolerate all this, and sit by, the while, prepared to 
 act when God's time shall come, but remembering that His ways 
 are slower than our ways. This is the way to manage things, and 
 then, if, when the time of acting has come, you excite the enthu- 
 siasm of others by exhibiting a little enthusiasm in yourself, you 
 will find that the time of your patience and quietness has not been 
 lost time. But, my dear Miss Harcourt, the grand thing of all is 
 to have God's glor>' always in view, and to be deeply impressed 
 with the high mysterious honour which is imposed upon Christians, 
 that we are permitted to promote that glor}'^ upon earth. We feel 
 like loyal soldiers fighting under the great Captain of our salvation ; 
 rather rejoicing though we tremble, when placed in posts of trial, 
 and difficulty, and temptation ; for the greater the danger the 
 greater will be in heaven our honour, if, fighting under the 
 shield of our Almighty King, we are in the end triumphant. 
 So be it with us ; we have each our different posts assigned us 
 in the great fight ; may we ha\e grace to do each our peculiar 
 duty ! 
 
 Comparison between the Evangelicals and the TraclariaJis. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : October 7, 1841. 
 My dear Miss Harcourt, ... I confess that I do not under- 
 stand Mr. Newman. Dr. Pusey is, I believe, quite alive to the 
 errors of Romanism. Mr. Palmer is, in my opinion, their most 
 powerful antagonist. The state of things appears to be this : a 
 large portion of our Church has of late years been ready to amal- 
 gamate with Protestants out of the Church. They have altered 
 our services to make them more Protestant, e.g. by introducing 
 Protestant Hymns, and omitting commanded ceremonies ; they have 
 evaded the principles of the Prayer Book, e.g. the power of abso- 
 lution, as in the Visitation Service, ' I absolve thee of thy sins ;'
 
 -i843 Letters, 1841-1843. 359 
 
 they have explained away what is said in our baptismal offices, e.g. 
 the identity of baptismal with spiritual regeneration ; they have 
 evaded the force of the Ordination Service, wherein to plain honest 
 minds the bishop gives the Holy Ghost to the ordained priest that 
 he may remit or retain sins ; they have interpreted literally the 
 Thirty-nine Articles, but adhered to them only, even sometimes try- 
 ing to make it appear that ours is the Church of the Thirty-nine Arti- 
 cles ; they have united with dissenting Protestants in Bible Societies, 
 «S:c. There has now arisen a school which says, ' We are Catho- 
 lics, and we will act on the veiy same principles as that on which 
 you, who are Protestants without leaving the Church, have acted. 
 We receive the Prayer Book in its fulness. You Protestants have 
 found it difficult to reconcile the Prayer Book and the Articles, but 
 you have attempted to do this by explaining away the Prayer 
 Book ; we will do it by receiving the Prayer Book and placing 
 our own construction upon the Articles. You have sought to 
 conciliate Protestants to the Church by omitting ceremonies ; 
 we will conciliate Catholics to the Church by observing them. 
 You have associated with dissenting Protestants ; we have just 
 as much right to associate with dissenting Catholics.' This is, 
 as I understand things to be, the condition of the two extreme 
 parties ; one side took too much to Protestantism, though in 
 dissent, the other to Catholicism, though under the dominion of 
 Rome. Undoubtedly the latter party is right so far as this : there 
 can be no more harm in a member of the Church of England 
 uniting with the Roman Catholics, recommending their Avorks, 
 pointing out their excellence in some respects while deploring their 
 errors in others, than it is for a member of the Church of England 
 to unite with Protestants in the same way. Those members of the 
 Church of England who have been accustomed to praise the 
 writings of the Puritans cannot consistently blame, as bad Church- 
 men, those who recommend the works of Papists. The State of 
 England has used the word Protestant, the Church of England has 
 never adopted the term : and a man like Mr. Newman may say, I 
 hate Protestantism, and yet remain in the Church of England, be- 
 cause the Church of England is Catholic. The extreme Protestant 
 party have no right to censure men for applying a principle which 
 they have long acted upon themselves to another purpose. Now I 
 do myself hold a middle position, and I attack the party, which 
 may be called the extreme Oxford party, for doing that very tiling 
 against which they have protested. I hold against the Protestant
 
 360 Life of Walter Fai-quhar Hook. 1841- 
 
 section the Prayer Book in its fulness, I hold against what we may 
 call the extreme Catholic section the Articles in their simplicity. I 
 have blamed the Protestants in the Church for associating with 
 Protestants out of the Church ; I blame equally the Catholics in 
 the Church for associating with the Catholics out of the Church. I 
 blame Protestants in the Church for circulating Puritan and Pres- 
 byterian books, I blame Catholics in the Church for circulating 
 Popish books, &c. You see my meaning, and you see the object 
 of the two schools ; one would widen the Establishment to admit 
 new Protestants, the other to effect a union with foreign Catholics. 
 This is a subject on which I am sometimes half inclined to write 
 a pamphlet, for I see that we must soon take our stand as de- 
 cidedly against the Catholic school as against the Protestant school, 
 acting in the true spirit of Catholicism, and standing in the midway 
 with the Church of England, between Protestantism and Popery, 
 the two extremes. But the time has not yet come, and indeed my 
 weight of duty is such that I cannot venture upon anything that 
 does not blend with the details of parochial business. Our service, 
 especially when sung, is so essentially Catholic that I only wonder 
 how it has been tolerated by Protestants ; I suppose it can only be 
 accounted for by the fact that Protestants cannot reflect. They 
 have assumed that our Church is Protestant, and defended it as 
 such, and never observed how entirely opposed it is to some of the 
 chief dogmas of Protestantism. 
 
 Now it is of the essence of Protestantism to refer everything to 
 self ; it is of the essence of Catholicism to refer everything to God. 
 A Protestant goes to church to get good to his soul, a Catholic to 
 glorify God ; a Protestant to have his own mind impressed, a 
 Catholic to do God service ; a Protestant desires to have a service 
 addressed, as it were, to himself, a Catholic to offer a sacrifice to 
 God ; a Protestant desires to have his ecstatic feelings excited, since 
 he judges of the state of his religion by the state of his blood ; a 
 Catholic desires to have everything so done that he may be solemnly 
 reminded, at every point of the service, that he is engaged with saints 
 and angels in an unearthly work. He confesses his sins, but it is with 
 the Church, he praises God, but with the Church, he prays, but with 
 the Church, in the Church's own peculiar language and peculiar tone. 
 According, then, as your feelings are more Catholic or more Protes- 
 tant, you will like or dislike cathedral service. A Protestant must 
 hate Choral Service, though, if he likes music, he may commit the 
 sin of going to Church unworthily to hear the anthem ; a Catholic,
 
 -i843 Letters, 1 841-1843. 361 
 
 though he knows nothing of music, will go far to attend regularly 
 the choral service, because it accords with his feeling of performing 
 a service. During the last century the mind of England became 
 thoroughly Protestantised, therefore choral service fell into disuse ; 
 it is now becoming again Catholicised, and choral service is coming 
 in. But as men become Catholicised they will naturally, when 
 weak, harmonise with foreign Catholics, though Papists, and some 
 will fall ; just as Protestants in our Church have harmonised with 
 foreign Protestants, and some have become Protestant dissenters. 
 I do not see that there is any greater harm in falling into Popery 
 than in falling into Presbyterianism ; I do not sympathise, there- 
 fore, with the ultra-Protestants, who attack the ultra-Oxonians. 
 But I do think there is as great a sin in leaving the Church for 
 Popery as there is in leaving it for Presbyterianism, or any 
 other Protestant ism ; and therefore I must attack them on that 
 point. 
 
 To the Rev. y. W. Clarke — Advice on visiting Roman Catholic 
 
 Countries. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : October 19, 1841. 
 
 My dear Friend, — Having preached five times since Sunday 
 morning, three times on Sunday, and twice yesterday, I have not 
 much time for a long letter ; be content therefore with brevity. 
 
 As a member of the Church of England you cannot, I concei\e, 
 communicate with a Church which is not in communion with her, 
 without a violation of your filial duty to your Holy Mother. 
 However lamentable, a fact it is that Christendom is divided. 
 The bright mirror has been broken into fragments. In God's good 
 time it will be reunited ; but this is not the work of man ; of indi- 
 viduals it certainly is not. We must each cling to our own frag- 
 ment till the time comes. 
 
 With Protestant communities you cannot hold communion, 
 because, not having the Succession, they cannot administer to you 
 the Eucharist ; but with foreign Catholics, on the same principle, 
 you cannot communicate, for although they have the Succession, 
 yet they alter a sacrament of the Lord, and give you that which is 
 not what Christ ordained, when they offer communion in one kind 
 only. The fault is as great on one side as on the other. Then, again, 
 their celebrating the communion, if it be such, in the presence of 
 non-communicants, is very unprimitive.
 
 o 
 
 62 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1841- 
 
 If it be that you are, in Catholic countries, a schismatic, I think 
 on the above grounds yours is a justifiable schism. Why not justi- 
 fiable schism as well as justifiable homicide ? I forgot to observe 
 that there is another reason for having nothing to do with Churches 
 of the Roman obedience, viz., they have actually added to the 
 Catholic creeds. 
 
 There is a great difierence between acknowledging them 
 to be true Churches, and even seeming to countenance their 
 errors. 
 
 I would advise you, therefore, to communicate as often as you 
 can with our own Church where chapels are opened ; and at other 
 times to take your prayer-book and say your prayers, as you can 
 very delightfully, in the different sanctuaries which are kept open 
 all day, and which are consecrated ground. . I recommend this as 
 the least of two evils. 
 
 To IV. P. Wood., Esq. — The Choi?-— Sketch of a sermo7i oji 
 Justification. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : December 29, 1841. 
 My dearest Friend, ... I have been led by circumstances into 
 the erection of a large church, and the use therein of choral service, 
 at an expense of six or seven hundred a year 5 how to be raised I 
 know not, and I feel oppressed with the weight of the whole con- 
 cern — so much so, that even now alluding to the circumstances 
 makes my head to throb, and to feel quite wild. Now this is want 
 of confidence in the good God, who has supported me hitherto ; 
 but the devil will annoy me on this point. I am indeed much 
 depressed by my parochial responsibilities, and sigh to be at rest. 
 Pardon all this egotism. And now let me point out to you what 
 should comfort you in the general Christian scheme, for you seem 
 to be troubled. Our life consists in Christ imparted to us, and 
 Christ formed in us. To receive Christ, and to sustain Christ in 
 us, we resort to the two Sacraments ; and He will spiritualise our 
 souls here, to render them fit for spiritual bodies hereafter. But 
 two things on our part are necessary : first, faith, without which 
 we cannot receive the gift ; secondly, the removal of impediments 
 to the operation of grace, i.e. of all sin. God is in the temple our 
 body ; we must sweep all the nooks and corners, that He may shine 
 therein ; sweep away all the filth sin has at any time left. The 
 more we do this, the more spiritual do we become. This, then, is
 
 -iS43 Letters, 1 84 1- [843. 363 
 
 our business ; morally to improve. Our moral improvement will 
 not justify us, but it will enable us to have more and more of grace ; 
 while it is Christ within us, the indwelling of the Father, and the 
 Holy Spirit, through the Son, that saves and purifies us. Hence 
 these three things are needful : faith, as the mouth to receive the 
 gift ; good works, which implies the renunciation of evil to enable 
 grace to operate ; recourse to the Eucharist, to have the gift con- 
 veyed. I have thus given you the outline of a sermon I have in my 
 mind. 
 
 To the Rev. Cecil Wray — Dislike to Public Meetings. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : September 23, 1842. 
 
 I shall be prepared (D.V.) for two sermons You are 
 
 aware that it is very inconvenient to me to leave my parish, and 
 therefore I am sure you will not think it unfriendly on my part if I 
 say that I must positively return home on Monday. And in con- 
 sidering the subject of your meeting — I dislike meetings so very 
 much from finding them generally attended with ill consequences, 
 and I have such a repugnance to speak on such occasions, that I 
 entreat you to let me off any such duty. I am certain, from my 
 own experience, that you will find it better policy to have the 
 meeting, if you mttst have one, some weeks after your sermons, as 
 a kind of revival of the interest. In addition to all this, it is a kind 
 of Low Church method of causing excitement to have a meeting, 
 in which you are sure to be beaten. I am sorry that the Church 
 Societies have speculated on this meeting system, but in a place 
 like Liverpool, where the ground is preoccupied, it is vain to 
 attempt to out-meetingise the enemy. I have never known a 
 public meeting not do harm. You never know what a speaker 
 will say ; you must make a miscellaneous selection of speakers, 
 and, either by an attack or by some injudicious defence of what 
 is right, the good cause is damaged. I think it will be wiser 
 merely to get together a few of your staunch supporters, and to let 
 them make their collections, and to get your schools perfect, 
 before you appeal to the public. I will say all I have to say in my 
 sermons. 
 
 I shall delight in paying you a visit, but all my pleasure would 
 be destroyed if I thought I had to attend a meeting on the Monday 
 morning. So 1 pray you have me excused.
 
 364 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 1841- 
 
 The Holy Eucharist. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : January 8, 1842. 
 
 My dear Miss Harcourt, . . . According to your commands I 
 send you quotations from tlie great divines of our Church, since 
 the Reformation, on the doctrine of the real presence. I thought 
 I had some from Archbishop Cranmer, and I dare say I could find 
 such, because, as he was a time-server, he sometimes wrote on one 
 side and sometimes on the other. Poor man, he lived in trying 
 times ; and though his cruelty in burning a poor woman for dis- 
 agreeing with him in opinion, his cringing to that wicked tyrant 
 Henry VIII. (who, by the way, is regarded by some persons as the 
 founder of our Church), and lastly his base apostasy from all his 
 avowed principles at the close of life, be dreadful blots in his 
 •character, still I regard him as more weak than wicked. But the 
 opinion of one who changed his mind so often as Dr. Cranmer did, 
 cannot have much weight on either side or on any question. Poor 
 old Latimer was an honest fellow, but no divine — he did not pre- 
 tend to be such. Bishop Ridley was a really learned and very 
 
 honest man. I do not know whether Mr. is a communicant, 
 
 but I should not like to have the quotations sent to any person 
 who is not such. To non-communicants the question can be of no 
 importance, and it is much too holy and solemn to be discussed as 
 a mere point of literature. To those who know that the doctrine 
 of the real presence was held in every portion of the Catholic 
 Church for fifteen hundred years, and who know that the Doctrine 
 of Transubstantiation was not thought of till the eighth or ninth 
 centur)^, who cannot therefore consistently with their principles 
 reject the former doctrine, but may and ought to reject the latter, 
 it is of great importance to draw the distinction w^hich I am 
 censured for drawing, and which Romanists would confound, that 
 so it may appear that they have more authority for Transubstantia- 
 tion than they really have. But let me repeat what I have often 
 said, that to discuss these questions, except as vital doctrines 
 bearing upon our practice, is worse than useless. Let us seek to 
 be holy, let us remember that our holiness consists in our union 
 with Christ, the only Mediator ; and then, when a converted 
 person is earnestly seeking for this great blessing, it will become a 
 vital question whether our Lord has appointed means of conveying 
 Himself to souls prepared to receive Him, and whether, through
 
 -^843 Letters, 1841-1843. 365, 
 
 those means, to such persons he is verily and indeed, really and 
 truly conveyed. Till this becomes a vital question, we shall do 
 better to answer ' never a word ' concerning it. 
 
 To the same — T]ie Holy Eucharist. 
 
 January 8, 1842. 
 
 There are three views prevalent at present of the Sacramental 
 Elements : to wit, the Roman, which regards the bread and wine 
 as actually changed into our Lord's body and blood ; the Zwin- 
 glian, or purely Protestant, which regards the bread and wine as 
 a likeness or figure of our Lord's body and blood ; the Catholic, 
 which has been held by the chief of our divines since the Reforma- 
 tion, which regards the bread and wine as to all mtettts and pur- 
 poses to be ' verily and indeed ' the body and blood of our Lord. I 
 will illustrate what I mean without attempting to explain the awful 
 myster>' which is addressed to our faith. I use the illustration 
 merely that you may in some measure perceive the difference in 
 these different views. I intend to give you five pounds, and I do 
 so by bestowing on you a five-pound note. The Romanist says, 
 ' This note which appears to you to be paper is not paper ; it is 
 gold, and unless you believe it to be gold you will not receive the 
 five pounds.' The Zwinglian says, ' This is all nonsense ; the 
 paper is not gold and is nothing worth, but it is a picture or figure 
 of that gold which you ought to believe that you have in your 
 pocket ; if you have the gold in your pocket, it will comfort you to 
 look upon this representation of it.' The Church of England 
 Catholic says, ' It is certainly verj' true that this paper is not gold, 
 but when I place it in your hands you are worth five pounds which 
 you were not worth before ; it is, to all intents and purposes, really 
 and truly five pounds, not by the conversion of paper into gold, 
 but because such is the will of the sovereign. You need not 
 trouble yourself how the thing is done ; take the note, and you 
 have received five pounds.' Now, to meet and counteract the 
 Zwinglian view, it is very necessary to speak of the note as being 
 really five pounds, though by really we do not mean the change of 
 the paper into gold. I almost fear whether I ought thus to illustrate 
 the doctrine ; but I depend upon your showing this only to earnest- 
 minded persons really anxious for information, or rather for a per- 
 ception of the difference between doctrines which are only to be 
 thought of with the profoundcst reverence. The doctrine of the
 
 366 Life of Walter Farqit,har Hook. 1841 
 
 Real Presence is a doctrine resolutely held by our great divines, 
 as I will show you when I ha\-e my books. It was the doctrine 
 held by the primitive Church, most resolutely, and it is by con- 
 founding the Real Presence with Transubstantiation that the Ro- 
 manists bring many earnest-minded men over to their system. I 
 could not remain a moment in the Church of England, if I were 
 compelled to renounce the doctrine of the Real Presence ; but to 
 the doctrine of Transubstantiation I am decidedly opposed, because 
 it degrades and alters the very nature of the Holy Sacrament, and 
 
 leads to many wicked superstitions 
 
 Christ is now in the spiritual body at God's right hand ; but 
 He, the Christ, is present, man as well as God, whenever two or 
 three of His people are assembled in His name ; much more in 
 the Eucharist. But how ? We know not, for we know not the 
 properties of a spiritual body ; we only know that as the sun is in 
 the fimiament, and yet by light and heat is really present with us 
 on earth, so it may be with the body of our Lord. The Romanist 
 errs by forgetting that our Lord is now a spiritual body, and by 
 imagining that He is present in his natural body, forgetting that 
 (even if our senses did not convince us that this is not the case) 
 there would be no advantage in eating the natural body, because 
 it is the spirit or spiritual body that profiteth, as appears from the 
 whole of the sixth chapter of St. John's Gospel. In conclusion, 
 remember there is only one thing worth living for, which is to 
 become more and more holy, and so to approach nearer and nearer 
 to the great God. But you cannot make yourself holy ; Christ 
 only can make you holy by His dwelling in you, for when He dwel- 
 leth in you, the whole Trinity dwelletli in you. Seek then Christ our 
 Lord, to dwell in you by the means which He has appointed. But 
 remember also that He will be found in you and sanctify you, only 
 as you labour to grow in faith, and remove all stain of sin from 
 your soul, which two things God the Holy Ghost, if His aid be 
 duly sought in prayer and the other ordinances of the Gospel, will 
 enable you to do. Your faith will not save you ; baptism will not 
 save you ; your good works will not save you. Christ only can 
 save you, but He will not save you without faith and good works 
 on your part. Christ is all in all in our system, and when Christ is 
 one with you and you are one with Christ, then rejoice with trem- 
 bling. Rejoice in the power of grace which is upon you ; tremble 
 at the thought of what you would be, were Christ for a moment to 
 leave you.
 
 -i843 Letters, 184 1-1843. 3^7 
 
 Indiscretions of Young Clergymen. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : February i6, 1842. 
 My dear Bellairs, . . . We are inundated with books about the 
 Church, and especially about the clergy. I am afraid that many 
 in their zeal for the Church, and, in maintaining the rights of the 
 clerg}', forget the rights of the laity, who are, as well as the clerg)', 
 priests unto the Most High God, and who indeed have as large a 
 portion of the sacrifice of prayer and praise assigned to them in 
 the Prayer Book as the clergy^ I am quite sure of this, that the 
 wrongheadedness and tyrannical disposition of many of our young 
 clergy who dare to make alterations in their churches, and to re- 
 store ceremonies which they consider old, without consulting the 
 Avishes of the people, or applying for the direction of their bishop, 
 have set inore persons in opposition to the Church than all the 
 violence of Papists and Dissenters. I wish for a little peace. 
 
 The Observance of Friday — Discrimination needful in 
 recommending Books. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : May 19, 1842. 
 
 My dear , . . . You are quite mistaken in supposing that I 
 
 should blame Lady for giving a musical party on a Friday ; 
 
 surely it would be absurd to wish her even to observe a useless 
 form. But I am sorry to find her ladyship alluding to the observ- 
 ance of the Friday fast in a light and joking manner. It is never 
 right, my dear friend, to ridicule the religious scruples or the ob- 
 servances, however ridiculous, of others. Even if a deed be wrong 
 in itself, the motive is to be respected, and the wrong act is to be 
 gravely censured, not ridiculed. Far am I from blaming anyone 
 for not keeping the Friday ; the Church enjoins it, but our Bishops 
 seem generally to have sanctioned the non-observance, and no one 
 is compelled to observe it. But it is natural for some, those who 
 take high views of their spiritual duties, and do not place their 
 religion in mere opinion, to keep that day as a fast. They con- 
 sider Sunday as a festival and a holiday ; a day on which they 
 may give full play to the elevated and joyous feelings of a re- 
 newed heart ; a day on which they forget that they are sinners, and, 
 rejoicing in the knowledge that by faith they are justified, on the 
 strength of that faith which is imputed to them for righteousness, 
 as the royal priesthood, the peculiar people of God (for the laity
 
 368 Life of Walter Fai'qiihar Hook. 1841- 
 
 are priests as well as the clergy), ofter unto God a sacrifice of 
 prayer and praise in the public worship of the holy Church, of 
 which they, a holy people, are part, and have God imparted to 
 them in the Holy Eucharist. It is, I say, natural for such persons 
 to desire to have another day, the day of our Lord's crucifixion, in 
 which they may humble their hearts, and look upon themselves as 
 they are by nature, sinful and accursed creatures ; and reflect on 
 what they would be were it not for the grace of God, and watch 
 lest they should be falling from grace, and take steps effectually to- 
 keep their baptismal vow, and crucify the whole body of sin. It is 
 natural for them, as on Sunday they seek by the thought of their 
 justification to gladden their hearts, so on Friday to sadden their 
 hearts, so as to be able to reflect more seriously on their sinful 
 nature. The time may come when you will thus desire to observe 
 the Friday fast as a sinner, that you may enjoy the more the 
 Sunday feast as a saint. In the meantime apply to this the prin- 
 ciple of I Cor. viii. 8. I have lately prepared a short course of 
 severe study for Lady Harriet Howard, which I think you would 
 like to see. She is not like some friends of yours, who commence 
 reading with the modest assumption that they are persons of such 
 learning and judgment and infallibility, that they are qualified to 
 pronounce sentence on any works they may read ; who say oracu- 
 larly, ' I agree here ' or ' I disagree there,' as if their agreement or 
 non-agreement were a matter of any moment. But she reads to 
 infomi her mind, and never ventures on an opinion until she has 
 gone through a course of study, and even then expresses it with 
 becoming modesty. I mention this that you may understand the 
 kind of person for whom I have prescribed this course of theology, 
 which I do not wish to prescribe for everyone. This is said as a 
 caution to you ; for (don't think me severe) I think your practice 
 rather that of a quack doctor who prescribes for the disease and 
 not for the patient. If you like a book, and if it has done you 
 good, you are apt to recommend it to all your friends. I could 
 fancy your recommending some delightful treatise against fanati- 
 cism to Lord Melbourne and to Lord A., not considering that the 
 former patient is as free from the disorder as the latter is eaten up 
 by it. Now I am desirous of being a regular practitioner, and 
 would prescribe a cooling tract to the raging fanatic, a warning 
 and exciting tract to the careless worldling. I hope you will not 
 be very angry at this odious comparison in my own favour ; but I 
 have at all events this comfort, that I know your anger never lasts
 
 -I §43 
 
 Letters, 1841-1843. 
 
 ;69 
 
 long. The end and object of all this is to say that the course of 
 study which may be useful to one person may not be the very best 
 course for another ; and therefore I do not want you to recommend 
 it to those numerous ladies, not to say gentlemen, who apply to 
 you for instruction in theology. Here then follows my course of 
 theology : it is divided into two parts, the Historical and the 
 Metaphysical, the former to employ three or four hours of one day, 
 the latter as many hours of another. 
 
 Historical. 
 Palmers ' Ecclesiastical History." 
 Palmer's ' Treatise on the Church.' 
 Wheatley on ' Common Prayer.' 
 Burton's ' Three First Centuries.' 
 Bingham's 'Antiquities.' 
 St. Cyprian's Works, Oxford Trans- 
 lation. 
 Churton's 'Anglo-Saxon Church.' 
 Jeremy Collier's 'Ecclesiastical His- 
 tory, ' beginning at the Norman Con- 
 quest. 
 
 Sermons. 
 Bishop Andrewes. 
 Bishop Horsley. 
 Mr. Newman. 
 
 Metaphysica I. 
 Bishop Butler's 'Analogy.' To be 
 
 deeply studied. 
 Bishop Butler's Rolls Sermons. Ditto. 
 Hooker : Keble's edition. Ditto. 
 Ne\vmar> on 'Justification.' Ditto. 
 Bishop Bethell on ' Regeneration. ' 
 Dr. Pusey on ' Baptism.' 
 Dr. Waterland on ' The Eucharist, ' 
 
 with the Catena on the subject in 
 
 the Oxford Tracts. 
 
 Devotional. 
 Bishop Wilson's ' Sacra Privata.' 
 Bishop Andrewes' ' Devotions,' trans- 
 lated by Hall. 
 Thomas k Kenipis. 
 
 Insufficiency of Books of Cofisohition — The Divine Comforter to be 
 sought through Ordiiiances. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : November 3, 1842. 
 My dear Miss Harcourt, — I perfectly agree with you in the 
 opinion you have formed of the works professing to be consolatory, 
 which are published by the Religious Tract Society, and that class 
 of religionists which that Society represents. I go further, for I 
 consider them to be in some respects mischievous. Although 
 nothing could be further from the intention of the pious men by 
 wliom they were composed, the tendency of such works is to with- 
 draw the mind from Him who is the only real Comforter, and to 
 employ it in our own feelings. To persons indulging a sentiment of 
 grief, who think it right to be a little afflicted, and right to seek 
 a little comfort, these works may be interesting ; but when was a 
 jicrson in real, earnest, deep, heartfelt affliction ever comforted by 
 
 BB
 
 370 Life of Walter Fargiihar Hook. 1841- 
 
 reading the commonplace remarks of which these books are com- 
 posed ? Surely the sorrower will feel, ' This is all very true, and 
 if you were the afflicted person instead of me, I could give all this 
 good advice to you ; but it is all in vain ; words cannot cure the 
 deep, deep wound which is devouring my heart.' We might just 
 as well place in the hands of a starving man, asking us for food, a 
 book on cookery, and bid him think of the nice dishes that good 
 cooks can make to quicken the sickly appetite, as to seek to com- 
 fort a real sorrower by words. If we are children of God, it is not 
 to human writings, it is not to human comforters, that we should 
 resort ; this is the portion of heathens. But we, the children of 
 God, we have for our Comforter the Holy Ghost Himself, the third 
 Person of the Blessed Trinity. He will Himself dwell in us as a 
 Comforter ; He will Himself inspire us with holy, consolatory, rap- 
 turous thoughts ; He will himself console us and make our souls 
 to dwell in heaven. This is the Comforter we are to seek. And 
 to those who are in a high state of sanctification the consolation 
 He gives is such as worldly men, or the ordinary run of those 
 who are called religious, cannot conceive ; they rather regard the 
 objects of it as wild, visionary, perhaps insane. And how are we 
 to obtain the Holy Spirit ? He is the Spirit of Christ, and when 
 Christ is in us the Comforter is in us ; and Christ is given to us 
 really in the Holy Eucharist : we are then and thereby made par- 
 takers of His body, of His flesh, and of His bones (Ephesians v. 30). 
 If this be true, and it is true if the Gospel be true, we may at once 
 direct the sorrower to the only source of comfort ; not to books, not 
 to men, but to the great God Himself, who may be received into 
 the heart through the Blessed Eucharist. And we ought not to be 
 surprised if those who seek the heavenly Comforter should be 
 sometimes so comforted as to appear fanatics and madmen to the 
 men of the world. My advice to any pious sorrower, therefore, 
 always is, wait upon the Comforter in the Eucharist. Alas for the 
 sorrowers of England ! owing to the want of faith in the means of 
 grace which too generally prevails, owing to the regard paid not 
 to what God has promised to do, but to what is calculated to excite 
 our own feelings, the Eucharist, which the Apostles administered 
 daily, is denied to us of the English Church, except perhaps once 
 a quarter or once a month, though there are, blessed be God, many 
 parishes where the bread of life is distributed weekly to those who 
 hunger and thirst after righteousness. At all events, there are 
 some of our cathedrals wherein the command of the Church for at
 
 -i843 Letters, 1 841-1843. 371 
 
 least weekly communion is obeyed. And, instead of purchasing 
 books and asking for advice from man, I would exhort a sorrower, 
 at almost any sacrifice, to go and dwell for a time in some cathe- 
 dral town, or some parish where this privilege, I would rather say 
 this right, of the children of God is not withheld. But then we 
 must remember that consolation is to us according to our faith ; 
 Ave receive grace in proportion as we have prepared oursehes for 
 its reception. We are not to suppose that a person who has been 
 careless in prosperity is immediately to receive comfort in sorrow 
 because he applies to God for it. No, the full comfort is a blessing 
 reserved for those who have, even in prosperity, led a life of self- 
 denial : a mortified life amid surrounding temptations to luxur}^ 
 If a person who has not been a devoted saint of God falls into 
 affliction it is absurd, and worse, to address the topics of consola- 
 tion to him ; he is not to receive blessings for which he never 
 laboured. Our business is to call upon that person to see by his 
 affliction the nothingness of this world, and so to induce him to 
 devote his whole life to God : he must seek to cure his sinful soul, 
 not to ease his load of present grief. When my poor children had 
 the small-pox the doctor did not come and try to cure each painful 
 spot upon the face ; he gave medicines influential upon the whole 
 body, and as the disease left the body as a whole it left also the 
 painful parts. So, when the sinner is grieved, it is not by seeking 
 the solace of the particular grief, but by bringing the whole soul 
 gradually into a healthy state that the comfort is to be obtained. 
 Such a person may not venture to hope for the Holy Ghost as in 
 this sense a Comforter, until He has become a Cleanser ; and when 
 the heart is purified, then there is comfort. Such a person there- 
 fore receives the Eucharist, that by union with Christ the soul may 
 be more and more cleansed by the Spirit of Christ. Consolation 
 will not be the grace which he will first seek : he first seeks pardon. 
 Grace is always given to us in proportion as we are capable of re- 
 ceiving it, for an adult person approaching the Eucharist un- 
 worthily, i.e. from any other motive but a desire to receive grace, 
 receives not grace but condemnation ; so is it that when we ap- 
 proach worthily, i.e. with faithful and penitent hearts, the grace we 
 receive is according to our degree of penitence and faith. Just so, 
 when the sun is shining, its rays penetrate the different media un- 
 equally, that is, according to their capacity to receive light ; and it 
 is only the purest and most transparent substances that receive the 
 light entirely. Although, therefore, Christ imparts Himself in a 
 
 ii B 2
 
 372 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1841- 
 
 dec,^ree to all who approach Him worthily in the Eucharist, it is 
 according to the purity of our hearts that we receive Him ; as they 
 are more and more pure by the cleansing of His Spirit, so do we 
 more fully partake of Christ. Instead, then, of telling persons to 
 read consolatoiy treatises, we should tell them to receive the 
 Eucharist as often as possible, and to prepare for its reception and 
 the realisation of its blessings by removing all the impediments by 
 that degree of austerity to ourselves by which we shall more and 
 more wean ourselves from the world, and devote ourselves to works 
 of charity and religion. To commence to do this is indeed an act 
 of much austerity ; and it is by austerity to ourselves, by self-denials 
 for the good of others, that we gradually remove from ourselves, 
 those hindrances which now prevent us from profiting as we could 
 \\ish from the grace which is given to us. Without self-discipline 
 devotion becomes mere sentiment ; affection without discipline is, 
 in fact, the sin of Methodism. Now all this is hard for flesh and 
 blood to bear, . . . but the religion that costs us nothing is worth 
 nothing ; if you will not ha\e recourse to the means, do as you 
 will, but then you must not expect the blessing. Whether what I 
 have said will be of service to your sorrowing friend you will judge 
 for yourself, of course. I can only address myself to the mind of a 
 Catholic ; such a mind will at once respond to what I say : it is 
 quite useless to place these deep truths before others. 
 
 If a parishioner of mine is in affliction, and comes to me, I give 
 him directions, as in this letter, what to do ; he yields to the direc- 
 tions of his pastor. Over others I have not, and I seek not,, 
 authority. If they tell me they wish to seek comfort as the Church 
 would administer it, I can write as abo\e ; if they merely wish for 
 an opinion, I would rather not give one. The person who is 
 seeking opinions supposes his own to be superior, and from among 
 different opinions pronounces on what he, in his own judgment^ 
 thinks the best ; and he might perhaps have saved himself the 
 trouble, since a man generally adheres to the opinion with which 
 he started. We must, if we would come to right conclusions, begin 
 with doins;; do God's will and you will know of the doctrine ; and 
 I say to the sorrower, seek Christ as Christ has appointed you to 
 seek him and you will have within you a Comforter such as others 
 cannot understand. Tr)' : there can be no hann in trying ; there 
 can be no hann in self-denials and in frequent communion, for 
 v.hich the jireparation of penitence and urgent prayer has been 
 undergone. The best books for meditation and prayer, perhaps^
 
 -i843 Letters, 1841-184; 
 
 are ISishop Wilson's ' Sacra Privata,' and Wilberforce"s ' Eucha- 
 ristica ; ' the proper subject for meditation, the special Providence 
 of God. There is in the first volume of ' Plain Sermons ' by con- 
 tributors to the ' Tracts for the Times ' a good sermon on Religious 
 Peace ; indeed, the whole of those sermons, written evidently by 
 men who earnestly realise the doctrine of a special Providence, 
 will be found useful. The best work will be visiting the afflicted, 
 especially poor persons more afflicted than the sorrower herself. 
 She might contribute largely but anonymously to some charitable 
 institution ; some orphan society : or she might build or endow 
 a church on condition that the Eucharist should be administered 
 in it at least once a week ; this is supposing your friend to be very 
 rich. "Whatever she does, let her do it heartily, and in a way that 
 will give trouble. When earnest-minded persons give, what they 
 bestow is a real gift. It will not do to pay 300/. a year for an 
 opera-box when in prosperity, and give a five-pound note in charity 
 when in adversity. Our expenses as we withdraw from the world 
 ought not to be diminished, but they should be directed into a 
 different channel. 
 
 To a Fi-ieiid — Necessity of coiiibiniitg Activity with Meditation. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : November 26, 1842. 
 My dear Friend, . . . The books requisite for a Christian are 
 not those that point directly to his grief, but those which lead to an 
 amendment of conduct. But some persons, having no particular 
 claims upon them, may give themselves up entirely to meditation 
 and prayer : this is the object of monastic institutions in foreign 
 Churches. The want of some retreat for the broken-hearted, and 
 occasionally (for a month or two) for those who are busied in the 
 affairs of the world, is much felt in our own Church. But then, so 
 useless is meditation, so useless faith itself without good works, 
 that they who have thus retired, and upon whom no active duties 
 at the time devolve, have always found it necessary to abound in 
 mortifications and fastings. When monasteries ceased to be 
 schools of asceticism they ceased to be schools of religious medi- 
 tation, and became a nuisance. And I dwell upon this the rather 
 to show that it is not by unaustere meditation, by reading without 
 good v>orks performed by self-denial, that we can expect comfort 
 from religion ; all without this is mere sentiment. People without 
 this, when ihcy tliink of religion, become cither idle monks or
 
 374 Zz/^ of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1841- 
 
 sentimental ' Evangelicals,' taking their ease, and talking of religion 
 while in their acts they differ nothing from the world around them, 
 excepting in those acts which are to them a kind of distinction. 
 
 Proper relations of a Pastor to a Private School in his Parish. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : January 24, 1843. 
 
 ]\Iy dear Miss Harcourt, ... I think Lord entirely in the 
 
 right. If I were in Lord 's place, I should say, ' Here are my 
 
 children. I have them prepared in the Church catechism, I send 
 them to church, and if you, Mr. Parson, are ready to do your duty, 
 and to catechise them after the Second Lesson, they are ready to 
 be catechised, and to the instructions you give them in church I 
 will take care that they attend. If you will also come to the schools 
 I shall be delighted to consult you upon the education given, but 
 they are my schools, and I only consult you about them as a friend.' 
 I have no patience with the domineering spirit which is too often 
 exhibited by the younger clergy^, as if everj'thing were to bend to 
 their own opinion. Their business is to catechise in church, not to 
 regulate the schools, and the business of the laity is to bring all the 
 children over whom they have influence to be catechised. If the 
 clergy would only do their clerical duty, if they would catechise in 
 church and have weekly communions and confine themselves to the 
 ministerial offices devolving upon the stewards of the mysteries, 
 things would go on much better than they do. But if we omit 
 catechising in church, which is our clear duty, to dispute about the 
 details of school arrangements, all will go wrong. Of course, on 
 the other hand, a clergyman is at liberty not to superintend a school, 
 the arrangements of which he does not approve. 
 
 Defence of the O.vford Writers from the Charge of being Utiin- 
 
 telligible. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : February 10, 1843. 
 My dear Miss Harcourt, ... As to what Lady Francis says of 
 
 the fault of being unintelligible which she predicates of Mr. B 's 
 
 school, the charge is made generally, I suppose, against the Oxford 
 school ; and on this point I must make an observation. If you 
 were to undertake to read the works of Sir Isaac Newton, would 
 you not find them unintelligible ? Doubtless you would, because 
 of your ignorance of the full meaning of many of the terms used.
 
 -i843 Letters, 1 841-1843. 375 
 
 and more particularly because he would assume that you knew 
 much of which you are really ignorant. He writes for mathe- 
 maticians, and you have only (forgive me if I am in error) a very 
 general notion of mathematics. Now, persons writing on Catholic 
 theology use many terms (regeneration, for instance) in a sense 
 very different from that adopted in ultra-Protestant schools. And, 
 again, they will assume that their readers understand Catholic 
 phraseology, and that they will admit as facts, so universally re- 
 ceived as to require no proof, what ultra-Protestants do not con- 
 cede, while much is regarded by them as essential which other parties 
 treat as trifling. Now without professing ultra-Protestantism, it 
 may be that a person has heard and read little of theology, except 
 what has been said or written by persons of that school, and of 
 course that person without preparation going to the works of 
 another school, with all his old notions and old phraseology, will 
 be and must be perplexed. The great men of a school only write 
 for the initiated, and what they write is useless for others, for those 
 not learned in their peculiar line. The little men, the retail dealers 
 in divinity, apply to the great men through their writings for whole- 
 sale theology, and our business is to prepare men by easy explana- 
 tions to understand the great men to whom we act as pioneers. 
 People do not complain of unintelligibleness in Gresley, Paget, or 
 your humble servant ; our business is, first to understand for our- 
 selves, and then to explain to others, what such men as Jeremy 
 Taylor, Sanderson, Hammond, Bishop Butler, and in these days 
 Newman, or Pusey, may have thought out. Their minds are the 
 * vasty deep,' ours the little streams ; their minds from their depth 
 cannot be seen through without much labour ; ours are transparent 
 because they are not deep ; theirs are the deep places wherein the 
 giant may refresh himself by swimming ; ours the little brooks 
 which the ordinary wayfarer may ford. And here, as I am getting 
 both figurative and tired, I shall leave off, fully expecting a severe 
 and most fierce epistle from you, anathematising me for daring to 
 place Newman and Pusey, whatever may be their errors, among 
 the great minds, and insinuating at their expense a compliment to 
 me. But the fact really is as I have stated. We have each our 
 calling ; some are called to deal in wholesale divinity, others are 
 retail merchants of theology. PLxcuse the comparison, which 
 comes naturally from one wlio has lived among tradesmen for 
 nearly twenty years.
 
 37^ Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE FROM 1 844 TO 1 849 — THE LEEDS 
 
 VICARAGE ACT LETTER TO THE BISHOP OF ST. DAVID'S 
 
 ON POPULAR EDUCATION TROUBLES IN CONNEXION WITH 
 
 ■ST. saviour's CHURCH. 
 
 By the beginning of the year 1844 the influence which the 
 Vicar had acquired over all classes of i)eople in Leeds, and the 
 work which he had achieved, exceeded the most sanguine 
 expectations of himself and his friends. 
 
 Success, however, never tempted him to relax his labours, 
 but stimulated him to further enterprise. The more he 
 advanced, the more he saw yet to be done. New vistas of work, 
 were continually opening before him : 
 
 Apparet domus intus, et atria longa patescunt. 
 
 The conviction had gradually been taking possession of his 
 mind that the most fatal obstacle to improving the spiritual 
 condition of the people was to be found in the ecclesiastical 
 constitution of the parish. In principle it was radically faulty, 
 and year by year it was becoming more inadequate to the wants 
 of the huge and rapidly growing population. Large festering 
 masses of heathenish ignorance and vice would, he foresaw, be 
 the inevitable result. 
 
 It will be necessary to lay before the reader some compara- 
 tive statistics of the population of Leeds at that time, and of 
 the provision made for the religious needs of the inhabitants. 
 Only when the conditions of the disease are understood, can the
 
 -i849 
 
 Leeds Vicarage Act. 
 
 2,77 
 
 merits of the remedy which the Vicar devised to cure it be 
 properly appreciated. 
 
 • The population, then, of Leeds in 1841 was 152,054, show- 
 ing an increase of nearly 30,000 over the return of the census 
 in 1831.^ This vast multitude was contained within the limits 
 of one parish. The acreage of this parish was 21,766 ; its 
 extent from east to west, and north to south, about seven miles ; 
 its circumference thirty-two. The number of dwelling-houses 
 contained within it was 32,859. 
 
 The parish was divided into eleven townships, each main- 
 taining its own poor. 
 
 The subjoined table will exhibit the comparative amount of 
 population and of church accommodation in these townships. 
 
 Townships 
 
 churches 
 
 Accommo- 
 dation 
 
 Population 
 
 
 
 'St. Peter's 
 
 2,450' 
 
 
 
 
 
 St. John's 
 
 700 
 
 
 
 
 
 Holy Trinity 
 
 700 
 
 
 
 
 
 St Paul's 
 
 1,175 
 
 
 
 Leeds 
 
 . 
 
 St. James's 
 St. Mary's 
 Christ Church 
 St. Mark's 
 St. George's . 
 ^St. Luke's 
 
 750 
 1,500 
 1,600 
 1,500 
 1,500 
 
 450. 
 
 Y 
 
 88,741 
 
 ] Armley 
 
 — 
 
 1,036 
 
 5,159 
 
 Beeston . 
 
 — 
 
 300 
 
 2,128 
 
 Bramley . 
 
 f Bramley Chapel 
 t Stanningley Church 
 
 5401 
 550) 
 
 8,87s 
 
 Chapel Allerton 
 
 — 
 
 858 
 
 2,580 
 
 1 Famley . 
 
 — 
 
 300 
 
 1,591 
 
 { Headingley willi 
 
 ( Headingley Chapel 
 
 5651 
 1,000' 
 
 4,768 
 
 ! Burley . 
 
 i Kirkstall Church 
 
 : Holbeck . 
 
 — 
 
 1,200 
 
 13,346 
 
 i Hunslet . 
 
 — 
 
 1,100 
 
 15,784 
 
 Potternewton . 
 
 (none) 
 
 — 
 
 1,241 
 
 Wortlcy . 
 
 — 
 
 550 
 
 1 7,090 
 
 This table is enough to reveal a fearful amount of spiritual 
 destitution, yet even in this case, as in so many others, things 
 
 ' See above, p. 221.
 
 2,7^ Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 looked better on pa])er than they really were. The construction 
 of many of the churches, the system on which they were in- 
 ternally arranged, and the conditions under which they were 
 served, reduced their usefulness to the lowest conceivable 
 minimum. 
 
 St. John's, Holy Trinity, St. Paul's, St. James's, St. Mary's, 
 Christ Church, Armley, Beeston, Chapel Allerton, Farnley, 
 Holbeck, Hunslet, Bramley, Headingley with Burley, and 
 Wortley, were all perpetual curacies withojit cure of souls. The 
 expression is, indeed, an absurdity ; but these perpetual curacies 
 without cures must not be confounded with the 'perpetual 
 curacies ' of ancient times, to which the cure of souls was 
 attached as much as to rectories and vicarages. They were the 
 abnormal creations of modern Acts of Parliament ; especially 
 of one devised for the extension of Queen Anne's Bounty to 
 clergy who had been incapable of receiving grants from that 
 fund. The Statute i George I. states that it was intended that 
 the Queen's bounty should extend not only to parsons and 
 vicars, but also to stipendiary preachers or curates ; but inasmuch 
 as most of them were not corporations they were incapable of 
 taking a grant, and in the case of 'a chapelry the incumbent of 
 the mother church might refuse to employ a curate, officiate in 
 the chapel himself, and take the augmentation for his own 
 benefit. The Act, therefore, declares that chapelries and 
 curacies augmented from the bounty fund shall be perpetual 
 cures and benefices, and then follows this singular clause : ' Pro- 
 vided always that no rector or vicar of the mother church, or 
 any other ecclesiastical person or persons having cure of souls 
 within the parish where such augmented church or chapel shall 
 be situate, or his or their successors, shall hereby be divested 
 or discharged from the same, hut the cure of souls with all other 
 parochial rights and duties (such augmentation and allowances 
 to the augmented church or chapel as aforesaid only excepted) 
 shall hereafter be and remain in the same state plight and manner 
 as before the making of this Act, and as if this Act had not been 
 made.' This Act seems to have regarded the cure of souls 
 simply in the light of a piece of privilege and power, of which
 
 -iS49 Leeds Vicarage Act. 379 
 
 it would be unfair to deprive the incumbent of the mother 
 church. It provided for the improvement of the temporal con- 
 dition of some of the clergy, but left the spiritual condition of the 
 people wholly out of the question. The duties of the perpetual 
 curates, falsely so called, created under this Act, were commonly 
 limited to the celebration of Divine Service on Sundays, and 
 other holydays, in the churches in which they were appointed 
 to minister. Besides these anomalous beings, there were in 
 Leeds, as in most other large towns, readers or lecturers with 
 small endowments attached to some of the churches, whose 
 duty consisted in reading prayers every morning, or giving a 
 lecture in church every Sunday afternoon. Of course, as a 
 matter of fact, many of the clergy did undertake pastoral work 
 in districts assigned to them by the Vicar, but this was merely 
 a private arrangement between him and them ; they were not 
 legally responsible for it, nor could he dismiss them if they 
 neglected it. 
 
 The results of an enquiry into the parochial statistics may 
 be summed up as follows : 
 
 Of twenty-one churches in the parish of Leeds eighteen 
 were curacies without cure of souls. 
 
 Three were private property, from which the poor were 
 deliberately excluded. 
 
 In the township of Leeds alone, of which the population 
 was 88,741, the total number of sittings in ten churches was a 
 little over 13,000, and of these only 5,500 were free. 
 
 Eight churches in the town and five in the suburbs were 
 unprovided with residences for the clergyman. 
 
 Finally, as nearly all marriages, baptisms, and funerals were 
 performed at the mother church, the time and strength of the 
 clerical staff, which now consisted of three curates and a clerk 
 in orders, were seriously wasted by discharging those offices, as 
 will be readily understood from a glance at the subjoined list : 
 
 Marriages in the Parish Church 
 
 1004 
 
 1 163 
 
 Baptisms 
 
 1812 
 
 1810 
 
 Burials 
 
 1339 
 
 1320
 
 o 
 
 80 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. ICS44- 
 
 Some plan for breaking up this huge unwieldy parish, for 
 securing more ample provision for the spiritual wants of the 
 poor, for making the clergy responsible for the cure of souls, 
 and for enabling them to reside on the scene of their labours, 
 had been working for a considerable time in the mind of the 
 Vicar, and by the close of the year 1843 it had begun to assume 
 a definite shape. 
 
 One thing (he says, in a letter to a friend,) I have determined 
 on. I shall divide this living, and sink from Vicar of Leeds to Incum- 
 bent of St. Peter's. I propose to constitute all the existing churches 
 parish churches; and I will give up 400/. out of my 1,200/. on con- 
 dition that the Ecclesiastical Commissioners will purchase the pews 
 of all the churches and make them free. My wife says we can do this 
 if we go to a smaller house, so this Vicarage must be sold. I shall 
 then retire from all my rights as Vicar, and give all the patronage be- 
 longing to that personage to the Bishop after my decease. I shall 
 reserve the patronage for my life ; the only thing, I dare say, for 
 which I shall be attacked ; but in these days we must have some 
 place for persecuted High Churchmen to flee into. Except that, I 
 shall give up all, and shall do so with joy, save when I think of the 
 beautiful house we have builded to the glory of God, for the use 
 not of the little poor district of St. Peter's only, but of all Leeds. 
 Our services there we will keep up, come what may. 
 
 By the middle of January 1844 his scheme was matured, 
 and unfolded in a long letter addressed to the Parishioners of 
 Leeds. 
 
 After sketching historically the origin and growth of the 
 parish, and pointing out how extremely desirable such a measure 
 as he proposed was, he indicated the principal provisions of it as 
 follows : 
 
 1. The measure will be carried into effect by the Ecclesiastical 
 Commissioners, with the sanction of the Bishop, under the powers 
 of an Act of Parliament to be obtained for the purpose. 
 
 2. A convenient district to be annexed to each of the existing 
 churches, which shall become a parish for all spiritual and eccle- 
 siastical purposes. 
 
 3. Each church to be a vicarage, and the incumbent to be vicar
 
 -i849 Leeds Vicarage Act. 381 
 
 of, and have the sole cure of souls within, the parish annexed to the 
 church. 
 
 4. Such parts of the parish as shall not be annexed to any 
 existing church to be fonned into convenient districts for pastoral 
 superintendence, such districts to be similar to those formed under 
 the Act of last session. 
 
 5. On the erection and consecration of a church within such dis- 
 tricts the same to become vicarages and parishes as in the case of 
 existing churches. 
 
 6. The tioor of every church to be wholly free and unappro- 
 priated. 
 
 7. A suitable house of residence for the clergyman to be provided 
 in e\ery parish. 
 
 8. No church to become a parish church until the floor shall 
 ha\e been declared free, and a residence for the clergjman shall 
 ha\ e been provided. 
 
 9. The patronage of the fourteen churches vested in the 
 Vicar to be placed at the disposal of the Bishop and the Com- 
 missioners. 
 
 There are, of course, numerous minor points and details con- 
 nected \\\\\\ the plan, but the general principles as above stated, 
 with the following explanations of its results, if carried into effect, 
 will suffice to bring the subject fairly before you. 
 
 1. I shall recede from all rights which, as vicar of this parish, I 
 now possess, and, resigning the exclusive cure of souls to the vicars 
 of the new parishes which shall be formed, my duties and labours 
 will be thenceforth confined to the parish annexed to St. Peter's 
 Church. 
 
 2. The incumbents of all churches in the parish will be placed 
 on an equality, vested with parochial rights and with the full powers 
 of pastors over their several parishioners, and in immediate 
 subordination to the Bishop. 
 
 3. All the fees, vicarial tithes, moduses, and other similar pay- 
 ments arising in each parish, will be paid to the vicar thereof. And 
 all double fees will henceforth be extinguished. 
 
 4. The entire floor of each church will be open to the inhabitants 
 of that parish. 
 
 I am most anxious thus to secure for my poorer brethren the 
 privileges of a free and unrestricted participation in the sacraments 
 and ordinances of our holy Church : in making each church a 
 parish church I have in view the conferring upon them a 7-ighi to
 
 o 
 
 82 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 a seat or kneeling therein. The galleries will still be reserved for 
 private pews, but I trust that the occupants of pews on the floors of 
 the several churches will be ready to sell them at a fair price, or, 
 where they can afford it, to give them as their contribution towards 
 this important measure. In almost all the churches which have 
 hitherto been built the convenience of the wealthy and middle classes 
 has been too exclusively considered, and we shall not be able fully 
 to restore the parochial system until each poor man feels that he 
 has as much right to take his place in the new parish churches as 
 he has now in St. Peter's. I am aware of the very great difficulties 
 which will attend this arrangement, but they are difficulties which 
 are not insurmountable. 
 
 5. With regard to the publication of banns, and the solemnisa- 
 tion of marriages, and other offices, each church will be placed on 
 the same footing, in every respect, as ancient parish churches — an 
 arrangement which will tend to the prevention of clandestine 
 marriages, and be a convenience in various ways. 
 
 6. The immediate formation of twenty-one parishes and vicar- 
 ages, and of about ten or twelve districts to each of which a minister 
 will be forthwith provided with an endowment under the Act before 
 alluded to, and thus ultimately there will be thirty parishes in Leeds 
 instead of one. 
 
 7. The advantages of a resident parochial clergyman in each 
 parish and district will thus be secured, and the church system be 
 fully restored. 
 
 This, in my opinion, is a point of the very greatest importance 
 as regards the township of Leeds — it has already been effected in 
 the out-townships — for it is only when the minister resides in the 
 midst of his people that the poor are brought to regard him as their 
 protector and friend, to whom they may, as a matter of course, 
 resort for advice in difficulty, and assistance in distress : it is only 
 then that the Gospel can be effectually taught in the cottage as 
 well as preached from the pulpit ; it is only then that the eloquence 
 of a good example can have its full influence. It is, moreover, very 
 essential that every clergyman should reside near his school ; for 
 as much good is done by frequent casual visits as by formal ex- 
 aminations. And I hope soon to see schools established in every 
 parish by the liberality of the National Society. We must never 
 rest until we have provided for every poor man a pastor^ and for 
 £very poor cJiild a scJiool. And if my wishes shall not be imme- 
 diately realised to their full extent, yet even an approximation to
 
 -1 849 Leeds Vicarage Act. 383 
 
 this end will amply repay me the labour I have taken, and the sacri- 
 lices I am prepared to make. 
 
 This letter, as may be supposed, was greedily read, and 
 created no small sensation among all classes in Leeds. None 
 could refrain from admiring the spirit in which the proposed 
 measure was conceived, though some doubted whether it would 
 be practicable, and others did not desire to see it carried into 
 effect. Dissenters on the one hand were somewhat alarmed at 
 the prospect of about twenty chapels of ease being converted 
 into parish churches, and non-resident curates without cures 
 into resident vicars. Some of the Church people on the other 
 hand, including a few of the trustees of the Vicarage, were 
 -unwilling to see the mother church deprived of her ancient 
 predominance, and the Vicar shorn of a large portion of his 
 income and patronage. 
 
 By Churchmen at large, however, throughout the country, 
 the Vicar's project was greeted with the warmest approbation. 
 The bishops especially expressed the highest admiration of it. 
 Lord Eldon, in moving the Address to the Queen at the open- 
 ing of Parliament in February 1844, strongly commended the 
 scheme, and subscribed 50/. towards the expenses of the Bill. 
 
 The Ecclesiastical Commissioners also cordially approved 
 of the measure as a whole, although the Vicar was much 
 harassed by the objections and difficulties which were raised 
 by them upon a variety of points. Like everyone else who 
 has had to deal with that remarkable corporation, he was 
 involved in much vexatious correspondence with them, and at 
 one time threatened to abandon the whole scheme if they would 
 not assent to a condition which was indeed one of the most 
 vital points of the measure — that no church should be consti- 
 tuted a parish church unless the floor was declared absolutely 
 free. 
 
 So convinced am I (he writes to the Secretary of the Commission) 
 that unless the Church of Enjjland can be made in the manu- 
 facturing districts the church of the poor, which she certainly is not 
 now, her days are numbered, and that her very existence would be 
 scarcely desirable, that I am willing to make any sacrifice to ac-
 
 384 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 complish my object, even to the resignation of my living, but I 
 certainly am not prepared to make any sacrifice whatever, if the 
 great principle to which I have alluded be not conceded. 
 
 In Mr. Gladstone he found a warm and sympathetic friend 
 during the trying six months occupied by the preparation and 
 discussion of his Bill. To him he wrote in the end of 
 January : 
 
 My measure has been honestly designed for the general good, 
 and I am met with censure on the one hand for having thrown away 
 a party advantage, and on the other hand I am opposed by party 
 feelings. If there are times when we contemplate with fear the 
 ' coming hour,' there are others when we rejoice to think that our 
 hearts will be open and our motives appreciated by those who hate 
 but ought to love us here, and who are loved by us because, though 
 their hatred is grievous to bear, still they hate us because they love 
 God, whose enemies they suppose us to be. How delightful will 
 be our reconciliation in the kingdom of glory ! 
 
 Pardon this outbreak of my feelings, and believe me to be, with 
 sincere respect and esteem, &c. 
 
 It only remains to be said that the Bill for dividing the 
 parish according to the principles laid down by the Vicar in his 
 letter to his parishioners passed both the Houses in the summer 
 of 1844 and received the royal assent on August 9. That the 
 measure has been of incalculable benefit to the town of Leeds 
 is notorious to all ; and that it was conceived and executed in 
 a spirit of noble self-sacrificing zeal for the glory of God and 
 the spiritual welfare of the people no one can deny. His family 
 had lately increased to six, his private means were scanty,. 
 heavy demands upon his liberality had been made ever since 
 he became Vicar, there was a debt still remaining on the building 
 fund of the parish church, and though it was not possible to 
 estimate precisely the extent to which the income of the living 
 would be reduced by the division Act it was generally expected 
 to amount to about 500/. a year. The loss was never actually 
 so great, and ultimately, through the sale of some property, the 
 value of the living has been raised to more than what it was 
 before the Act ; but the credit due to the Vicar for his brave
 
 -1 849 1^^^^ ^^^^ Hours Bill. 385 
 
 and disinterested determination remains unaffected by these 
 unforeseen events. 
 
 The cost, moreover, of procuring the Act was very heavy ; 
 none the less heavy though the object of the promoter was 
 to diminish his own income, patronage, and power ; and, but 
 for the generous help of his wealthy friends in Leeds and 
 elsewhere, he would have been financially almost ruined by the 
 legal expenses of the process, which amounted to 1,400/. 
 
 The antipathy of Dissenters to the measure had very much 
 cooled down when they discovered that it would not involve 
 any increase in church-rates. Under this apprehension they 
 had endeavoured to excite a popular agitation against the Bill, 
 when first it was proposed, and had placarded the town with 
 handbills headed 'Dissent in Danger.' 
 
 Their efforts, however, to enlist the working people on their 
 side had utterly failed, for in the spring of 1844 the Vicar was 
 at the height of his popularity, owing to the warmth with which 
 he advocated the Factory Ten Hours Bill which was then 
 before Parliament. This Bill, promoted by Lord Ashley, 
 proposed to limit the working hours of women and children in 
 factories to ten. It obtained a majority twice, in spite of the 
 opposition of Sir Robert Peel's Government, but was not passed 
 until it had been modified to meet the views of Ministers. 
 
 The Vicar of Leeds most earnestly supported the measure, 
 as it was originally proposed, whole and unqualified, and it 
 was a fine instance of his courageous honesty that at a time 
 when the moral and pecuniary support of the rich manufacturers 
 of Leeds was particularly valuable to him — and to some of them 
 he was under deep obligations — he did not shrink from takinp' 
 a line to which most of them were vehemently opposed. It was 
 also a departure from that political connexion to which he had 
 hitherto steadfastly adhered. But all paltry considerations of 
 jiersonal advantage or party favour were cast aside by him 
 whenever he thought that the temporal happiness and moral 
 welfare of the people were at stake. He therefore attended a 
 large meeting held at Leeds in favour of the Bill on March 1 6, 
 and another a short lime afterwards. He declared that he 
 
 CC
 
 386 Life of Walter Farguhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 supported the Bill on medical, moral, and educational grounds. 
 ' It is impossible,' he said, ' to train children in the way they 
 should go unless we have more time to train them.' It was 
 unnatural that young children should be the bread-winners of 
 the family. It was undesirable that women should be so 
 employed as to interfere with their proper business, which was 
 to take care of their children, and to make the home happy and 
 comfortable for the man on his return from work. His 
 concluding remarks were received with the most vociferous 
 cheering. 
 
 If I thought you working men were in error on this subject I 
 should still sympathise with you, though I should not be here to- 
 night, but believing and knowing you to be in the right, I should be 
 unworthy of the post which I occupy in this parish were I to permit 
 any reluctance on my part to oppose Her Majesty's Government, 
 to prevent my being present. Yes, I will go further, and say that I 
 come here to tell you that I am ready in this righteous cause to 
 press forward with you to the last gasp ; and that if a collision 
 should occur between your interests and the interests of a higher 
 social class, you may depend upon finding me on your side. And I 
 trust that our friends in London, when the question is put to them, 
 whether they will support the cause of the poor or the cause of 
 party, will fling party to the dogs, and support humanity. There is 
 much to be said, no doubt, on the manufacturers' side, but throw 
 humanity into the scale and their arguments are outweighed. To 
 the present system we are opposed, and in our opposition to this 
 system I trust we shall persevere diligently, ardently, patiently — 
 affording to all that fair play which every Englishman loves, and 
 acting with Christian feeling until we have brought the matter to a 
 successful issue. 
 
 Many of the leading manufacturers and merchants of Leeds 
 were very angry with him for this bold language upon a question 
 in which they were so nearly interested, and on which his 
 views were repugnant to their own. Yet many years later 
 some of them frankly acknowledged that the measure which 
 they had so vehemently opposed, and others subsequently 
 passed for the same purpose, had benefited them as much as 
 the operatives themselves, and perhaps even more.
 
 -1 849 A Bold Speech. 387 
 
 Nor was he deterred by any fear of giving offence from 
 reminding his more opulent parishioners of the duty of devoting 
 some of their wealth to clear off the debt upon the parish 
 church. At a meeting held to raise money for this object, he 
 addressed them in words of plain-spoken admonition and bold 
 reproof, such as would not be patiently borne from every pastor. 
 After dwelling upon the size and grandeur of the church, he 
 proceeded : 
 
 Such is our parish church, and what has been the cost of it ? 
 less than 30,000/. And when we consider that the parish church 
 was erected to be the House of the great and good God, the 
 Palace of the King of kings, I consider this to be a small sum. 
 30,000/. ! Why, if every wealthy Churchman would only give to 
 the House of his God one-tenth of what he has expended on his 
 own private dwelling, the money would be raised immediately. 
 We should then have no occasion to apply to that class of persons 
 in moderate circumstances, who have given much more in propor- 
 tion than the wealthy. Many a person has felt the loss of the 5/. 
 he has cheerfully gi\en to the Church, but I suspect that the real 
 inconvenience experienced by those who have contributed larger 
 sums has not been very great. Look at the wealth of Leeds, look 
 at the wealth of professing Churchmen in Leeds, at the wealth of 
 those who monopolise the pews in our churches, of those who 
 think it necessary to take a lead in religious affairs. Look at their 
 wealth and then look at their subscriptions, and I say, in spite of 
 their boastings, they have done and are doing next to nothing for 
 the glory of God. And in the great day of account, from the little 
 that has been done, will have to be deducted all that has been con- 
 tributed from mere political feeling, perhaps from less worthy 
 moti\es. Some have complained of the necessity of making 
 another appeal. I, on the contrary, always rejoice in every oppor- 
 tunity of calling upon the rich to spend their wealth so as to pro- 
 mote the gloiy of God ; to assist them in fact in doing their duty. 
 Common charity indeed, a love for the souls of men, must induce 
 us to do this, for if the Scripture be the Word of truth it is very 
 difficult for the rich to be saved. The poor are under the discipline 
 of God, the rich must discipline themselves lest they become self- 
 indulgent, and self-indulgence is destruction. I make no apology 
 for the severity of these remarks. I address you as your pastor, 
 
 <• 1: 2
 
 388 Life of Walter Farqtthar Hook. 1844- 
 
 out of regard for the souls of my brethren. 1 have loiv^- pitied the 
 wealthy, because even in the Church they are often surrounded by 
 flatterers, not intentionally such, who are too ready to say Peace, 
 peace, when there is no peace. Too long has it been tolerated in 
 our manufacturing towns that, by erecting churches for the rich, 
 the pious poor have been compelled to turn Methodists. They 
 ha\'e found there that brotherly affection and sympathy which they 
 could not find in the gay assemblies, where 'the man with the gold 
 ring and the goodly apparel ' was invited to sit in a good place, 
 while ' the poor man in vile raiment ' was bidden to ' stand there, 
 or sit here under his footstool.' The persons most to be pitied, I 
 say, are the rich. We want 5,000/. Many a rich man is here who 
 might sit down and write a cheque for the whole sum without 
 feeling the poorer, who would in fact not make so great a sacrifice 
 as will be made by the hard-working man, who will readily give us 
 his five shillings when we call for it by weekly instalments. 
 
 Part of his summer holiday this year was spent at Monteviot 
 near Jedburgh, where he preached one of the sermons' at the 
 consecration of a church built by Lady Lothian. He was for 
 many years the confidential friend and spiritual adviser of Lad}- 
 Lothian, and the voluminous correspondence which passed 
 between them fills the reader with amazement. The more one 
 wonders how he could find time to read and to write such 
 long letters, in addition to the preparation of sermons and pam- 
 ])hlets, the compilation of his ' Church Dictionary,' and the 
 ' Dictionary of Ecclesiastical Biography,' on which he was now 
 engaged, besides his practical parochial work, the more insoluble 
 does the problem seem to be. He resumed in 1843, and 
 henceforth permanently kept up, the habit of early rising which 
 he had dropped during the period of his ill-health at Coventry- 
 He now commonly got up at five o'clock, sometimes at four,, 
 or even earlier, and thus secured three or four hours for literary 
 work and correspondence free from interruption before break- 
 fast, after which he was ready to meet all parochial demands up 
 to ten o'clock at night, and he seldom spent an evening at 
 home. But still, notwithstanding these matutinal labours, the 
 
 1 Entitled 'The Church in Scotland Aggressive.' The other preachers, 
 were Mr. Robert Wilherforce, Mr. Dodswortli, Mr. Keble, and Mr. Teale.
 
 -i849 The Lull bcfoi^e a Storm, 389 
 
 mass of reading and writing which he contrived to get through, 
 week by week, is an astonishing example of industry in study 
 and celerity in composition. 
 
 The autumn of 1844 was saddened by the death of his 
 mother, who died at Leamington in September. He was 
 accustomed to say that to her piety, ability, good sense, and 
 selt-denying efforts on his behalf as a boy, he owed by far the 
 most valuable part of his education. She was indeed amply 
 repaid by the warmth of his filial affection, and by living to see 
 him become the most eminent parish priest of his day. His 
 grief at her loss was passionate and profound, but it was turned 
 to the benefit of himself and others. During a few weeks spent 
 in seclusion with his wife after the death, they compiled together 
 some meditations on the Cross of Christ, which were afterwards 
 published, and have been a blessing to many mourners by help- 
 ing them to seek consolation where alone it is to be found, from 
 the ' Father of mercies and the God of all comfort ' at the foot 
 of the Redeemer's Cross. 
 
 And indeed he was himself about to enter, though he knew 
 it not, a season of severe and protracted affliction, which tasked 
 to the uttermost his Christian fortitude and faith. By the close 
 of the year 1844 he seemed almost at the zenith of his power. 
 He was at peace in his parish. The voice of obloquy was 
 seldom heard, or it was too insignificant to be heeded. The 
 rancorous opposition of Evangelicals and Dissenters had in a 
 great measure died away. The services in the parish church, 
 to which the people thronged by thousands, were a source of 
 constant delight to him. He was aided by a staff of zealous 
 and able curates ; and the division of the parish opened the 
 prospect of bringing the influence of the Church to bear at last 
 upon the whole town. Above all he had succeeded in convinc- 
 ing the great majority of his people that the principles which he 
 taught were utterly free from any tendency in the direction of 
 Rome ; nay, more, that when properly understood they consti- 
 tuted one of the most invulnerable ramparts against aggression 
 on the j)art of Rome. Yet it was just at this moment of sun- 
 shine that storms were gathering in the distant horizon, by which
 
 390 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1844- 
 
 for six long years he was destined to be vexed until the ' iron 
 entered into his soul.' 
 
 These troubles were nearly connected with those by which 
 the Church of England was at this period distressed. They 
 partly grew out of them, partly were aggravated by them ; and 
 form a kind of episode in their history. To the condition of 
 the Church, then, the attention of the reader must be for a brief 
 space directed. 
 
 It will be remembered that Mr. Newman's Tract 90 had 
 been offered as a remedy for the doubts and ditificulties of 
 those who, to borrow his ow^n words, were ' straggling Rome- 
 wards.' But the application of the remedy had been forbidden 
 in high quarters. Twelve of the Bishops had censured it in theit 
 charges with considerable severity, except the Bishop of St. 
 David's. It was pronounced to be overstrained, sophistical, 
 Jesuitical, and many more hard epithets of a like nature were 
 heaped upon it. Meanwhile the tract was withdrawn, the 
 author drew more and more into retirement, and in September 
 1843 h^ resigned his living. Secessions to Rome became 
 numerous, and the author of the tract disclaimed any responsi- 
 bility for them ; not without some show of justice. His remedy, 
 he argued, had been rejected, and if, therefore, the patient died 
 of the disease which it was intended to avert, the fault was not 
 in the physician. 
 
 The secessions to Rome excited the passions and hopes of 
 the ultra-Protestants. They pointed to these events as the 
 natural consequences, long foreseen by them, of the Tractarian 
 movement, and they predicted the downfall of the mischievous 
 Puseyite party. Once more the soundest teaching and the most 
 innocent practices were confounded with Romanism. The 
 Bishops indeed, and notably the Bishop of London, in his 
 famous charge delivered in 1842,' were, many of them, 
 counselling a strict adherence to the doctrine taught and the 
 ritual prescribed by the Prayer Book, but in a vast number of 
 cases attempts to obey the Prayer Book by the institution of 
 daily services, weekly celebrations of Holy Communion, weekly 
 
 ' See Life of Bishop Blomjield, by Rev. A. Blomfield, chap. xiii.
 
 _i849 State of the Church. 391 
 
 offertories and preaching in the surplice, encountered fierce 
 opposition from the people. On the other hand, moderate 
 High Churchmen, thus opposed in their efforts to act on 
 principles of the simplest and most honest obedience, were 
 mortified to see the rubrics and canons of the Church violated 
 with impunity every day, doctrines of a Calvinistic, or Socinian, 
 or Latitudinarian type constantly preached without rebuke, and 
 men of heretical views frequently pushed forward into high 
 positions in the Church. 
 
 In this uncomfortable state of the ecclesiastical world, there 
 appeared in the year 1844 the celebrated book entitled the 
 ' Ideal of a Christian Church,' by Mr. Ward, Fellow of Balliol 
 College, Oxford. This work avowed such undisguised sympathy 
 with Rome that no sound Churchman could view it with 
 approbation. Mr. Newman, in Tract 90, had recommended 
 that the Articles of our Church should be interpreted in the 
 most Catholic sense they could bear, provided no violence was 
 done to their strict grammatical construction. Mr. Ward, on 
 the other hand, distinctly suggested that they should be inter- 
 preted in a non-x\2A.ViX^ sense, so as to bring them into harmony 
 with the decrees of the Council of Trent. To sum up the 
 difference in one sentence, Mr. Newman would have drawn 
 out a Catholic sense from the Articles, Mr. Ward would have 
 imported a Roman Catholic sense into them. 
 
 The Vicar of Leeds expressed from the first the strongest 
 dislike and disapproval of this book. Notwithstanding this, 
 however, he found himself unable to join in the condemnation 
 and degradation of Mr. Ward as submitted to the votes of the 
 University on February 13, 1845. The machinery of academi- 
 cal censure began to be set in motion by the Hebdomadal 
 Board on December 12, 1844. It was then resolved that 
 certain selected passages from the obnoxious book should be 
 submitted to the Convocation of Oxford on February 13, 
 together with two propositions : (i) that such passages were 
 utterly inconsistent with the Thirty-nine Articles, with the 
 declaration of assent made and subscribed by Mr. Ward to those 
 Articles when he took his D.A. and M.A. degrees, and with his
 
 392 Life of Walter FargnJiar Hook. 1844- 
 
 good faith in making and subscribing the same ; (2) (if the 
 former proposition was affirmed) that the said Mr. Ward had 
 forfeited the rights and privileges conveyed by the said degrees, 
 and was thereby degraded from the same. 
 
 But the Hebdomadal Board were not content to stop here. 
 They conceived the idea of inventing a rigid test of orthodoxy, 
 a kind of trap to catch all erratic theological geniuses in all 
 future time. They proposed to submit to the same convocation 
 a new statute empowering the Vice-Chancellor to call upon any 
 member of the University, suspected of heresy, to declare that he 
 would sign the Thirty-nine Articles, all and singular, in that sense 
 in which he verily believed they were originally issued, and were 
 now proposed to him by the University, 'as a certain and 
 indisputable sign of his opinions ! ' 
 
 Such an outcry, however, was raised against this tyrannical 
 device, that the board, in the following month (January), with- 
 drew their resolution. But their pertinacious zeal for ortho- 
 doxy, according to their conception of it, was not yet exhausted. 
 Suddenly, only eight days before the day appointed for con- 
 vocation, members learned to their astonishment that the old 
 resolution condemning Tract 90 as ' evading rather than ex- 
 plaining the sense of the Articles ' was to be brought forward 
 again. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone, writing before any authoritative statement o 
 this intention had been made, says : 
 
 I can hardly believe it possible, as it does not appear to me to 
 be compatible with common decency, that six or seven days only 
 should be allowed to the members of Convocation for the considera- 
 tion of the question indicated but not defined by the requisition- 
 namely the principle of interpreting the Articles. . . . 
 
 I shall look with earnest expectation for the intimation which I 
 suppose to-morrow will bring of the intention of the heads of 
 houses ; and readily indeed should I devote my time and mind to 
 the matters which they may involve. The crisis is a serious one ; 
 the whole basis of the Church of England may be seriously affected 
 by a vote on this subject. God grant to those who may be called 
 to concur in it the spirit of a sound mind, and some recollection of 
 Christian love ; some sense of common human justice, and of the
 
 -1 849 Case of Mr. Ward. 393 
 
 immense debt which we owe to ]Mr. Newman as a teacher, and an 
 example of Christianity. 
 
 February 13 came ; the theatre was thronged with more 
 than 1,200 members of convocation from all parts of the kingdom, 
 noble Lords, statesmen and barristers from London, squires and 
 parsons from the country. Deans, Archdeacons, Doctors and 
 Professors. The passages were read. Mr. Ward, from one of the 
 Tostra, made a long speech in explanation and defence. The 
 first proposition condemning the passages, and the good faith of 
 Mr. Ward, was carried by a large majority — 777 to 386. The 
 second proposition for the degradation of Mr. Ward was then 
 put. This too was carried, but by a much smaller majority — 
 569 to 511. The third proposition for the condemnation of 
 Tract 90 was then submitted to the assembly. Thereupon the 
 proctors rose, and, exercising their ancient right of veto, said, 
 'Nobis procuratoribus non placet.'^ There was a storm of 
 •cheering, counter-cheering, and hissing for several minutes, 
 and so the proceedings of that memorable day came to an 
 end. 
 
 The Vicar of Leeds had voted against both the propositions 
 in common with Mr. Gladstone (whose cry of non placet was 
 noticed as particularly energetic), Archdeacon Manning, Arch- 
 deacon Robert Wilberforce, Mr. Keble, Dr. Moberly, Dr. 
 Gresley, and Dr. Pusey. He was also one of the 300 who 
 signed an address to the proctors, thanking them for putting 
 their veto upon the proposition to condemn Tract 90. The 
 grounds upon which he and others based their dissent from 
 the two propositions were, first the imputation of positive dis- 
 honesty on the part of Mr. Ward contained in the terms of the 
 first proposition, and secondly a doubt whether in any case 
 Convocation had the legal right to depose him from his 
 academical degrees. This was a question which had been 
 submitted to two eminent authorities, Sir John Dodson and 
 
 ' The two Proctors on this occasion were the Rev. H. P. Guillemard, 
 Fellow of Trinity, and the Rev. R. W. Church, Fellow of Oriel, now Dean of 
 St. Pauls.
 
 394 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 Mr. Richard Bethell, who had given their opinion in the 
 negative. 
 
 At the same time tlie Vicar of Leeds with many others 
 signed a declaration of concurrence in an amendment which 
 had been proposed in Convocation by Dr. Grant of New 
 College, but which the Vice -Chancellor had refused to put to 
 the vote. The amendment was to the effect ' that the passages 
 now read from the book entitled " The Ideal of a Christian 
 Church considered " are worthy of grave censure, but that 
 Convocation declines to express any opinion upon the good 
 faith of the author, or to exercise the functions of an ecclesi- 
 astical tribunal by pronouncing judgment upon the nature or 
 degree of his offence.' 
 
 The Church had not recovered from the state of ferment 
 into which she had been plunged by these events, when, in the 
 second week of October 1845, the calamity, now long dreaded, 
 fell upon her, and Mr. Newman was received into the Church 
 of Rome. 
 
 It was at this critical juncture, when the hearts of Church- 
 men were failing them for fear, and when the Puritan party 
 were watching their movements with the keenest vigilance and 
 suspicion, that the Tractarian or, as it was now more com- 
 monly called, the Puseyite party began, in an evil hour for the 
 Vicar of Leeds, to attempt an application of their principles ta 
 practical pastoral work in that town. On the feast of St. 
 Simon and St. Jude, just one fortnight after the secession of 
 Mr. Newman, the Church of St. Saviour's was consecrated. 
 The founder of the church was and continues to be unknown ; 
 but he was represented as being a penitent who desired to 
 build a church in gratitude to God for having, as he believed, 
 forgiven him his sins. All correspondence upon the subject, 
 and the necessary business connected with it, was transacted 
 through Dr. Pusey. The site selected for the church was a 
 densely populated poor district, called the Bank, covering 
 about forty acres of high ground eastward of the parish church, 
 overhanging the river Aire. The founder had desired the 
 church to bear the name of Holy Cross, and on Holy Cross-
 
 -1 849 '^'^- Savioitrs CImrch fonnded. 395, 
 
 Day 1842 the foundation stone had been laid by Dr. Hook.. 
 It bore the following beautiful and affecting inscription : 
 
 THIS FIRST STONE 
 
 OF HOLV CROSS CHURCH, 
 
 IN THE PARISH OF LEEDS, AND COUNTY OF YORK, 
 
 WAS LAID 
 
 UNDER THE ALTAR, 
 
 IN THE NAME OF PENITENT, 
 
 TO THE PRAISE OF HIS REDEEMER, 
 
 ON HOLY CROSS DAY, 
 
 A.D. 1842. 
 
 God forbid that I should glory, save in the Cross of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto 
 the world. 
 
 O Saviour of the world, who by thy Cross and precious blood 
 hast redeemed us, save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee,, 
 O Lord. 
 
 By thine agony and bloody sweat, 
 By thy cross and passion. 
 In the hour of death. 
 
 In the day of judgment, good Lord, deliver us. 
 Lord remember me, when thou comest in thy kingdom. 
 
 The Vicar had gladly welcomed the design, for a church 
 was greatly needed in that part of the town, and he thought 
 too it would be a favourable opportunity for proving to the 
 world that Tractarians could act as well as write and talk. 
 Little did he think when he accompanied the clergy and choir 
 of the parish church as, singing the 132nd Psalm, they slowly 
 ascended the steep hillside, to lay the stone of the new church, 
 that that day was to be the beginning and the ending of his 
 happiness in connexion with it. 
 
 The events which occurred in the three years that elapsed 
 between the foundation and the completion of the church had 
 deeply shaken liis confidence in the steadfastness of advanced
 
 596 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1844- 
 
 Tractarians, although, as wc have seen, he still manfully and 
 generously upheld them against harsh or unfair treatment. 
 The Bishop of Ripon had probably never been so favourably 
 disposed towards that school, and he viewed the experiment 
 about to be made in the largest town in his diocese with 
 anxiety and alarm. As the time for consecration approached, 
 he started difficulties and objections ; first as to the dedication 
 under the name of Holy Cross — so it was altered to St. 
 Saviour's — then to the patronage, which was to have been 
 vested in the college of clergy who were to live hard by the 
 church under a kind of monastic rule ; so the patronage was 
 transferred to trustees instead. Lastly, he objected to the 
 legend over the west door : ' Ye who enter this holy place, 
 pray for the sinner who built it.' The Bishop thought it im- 
 proper that this legend should be retained in the event of the 
 founder's death, and as the founder was unknown, he might 
 actually be already dead. On being informed, however, that 
 one express condition on which the church was built was that 
 this inscription should be placed there, he gave way, and the 
 legend remains to the present day. 
 
 The Vicar consented to attend the consecration, but 
 shortly before it he signed, with more than two-thirds of the 
 clergy, a declaration against the Romanising tendency observ- 
 able in a section of the Church. He was annoyed that the 
 preachers appointed to deliver a series of sermons during the 
 octave of the consecration were all well-known intimate friends 
 of Mr. Newman.' 'The Bishop,' he wrote to Mr. Wood, 'will 
 probably attack us in his sermon, and the Evangelicals are 
 getting up a remonstrance to him against Pusey being per- 
 mitted to come here. In short, we are in a storm, and I am 
 in the sinking vessel. I consider it unkind in the Puseyites to 
 force themselves upon me ; they have upset the coach else- 
 where, and now they come to upset the coach here.' Such a 
 complaint was not really reasonable, for nothing could be more 
 natural than that the personal friends of Dr. Pusey, who were 
 
 • Mr. Keble, Mr. Upton Richards, Mr. C. Marriott, Mr, Isaac Williams, 
 Mr. Dodsworth, and Dr. Pusey himself.
 
 -1849 Consecration of St. Saviour's. 397 
 
 most of them friends of Mr. Newman also, should take part 
 in the inaugural services of a church with which Dr. Pusey 
 was intimately concerned ; and the course of sermons and 
 preachers had probably been settled before the defection of 
 Mr. Newman took place. Neither indiscretion, therefore, nor 
 want of consideration, were justly chargeable upon anyone in 
 this respect. All that can fairly be said is, that the coincidence 
 of Mr. Newman's secession with the coming of his friends to 
 preach at Leeds was an unfortunate circumstance. And the 
 effect which it produced upon the Vicar is just a specimen of 
 the singular way in which, throughout his connexion with St. 
 Saviour's, misunderstandings and unfortunate coincidences 
 seemed to conspire with real causes of provocation to involve 
 him in hopeless antagonism with that ill-fated church, and to 
 frustrate the good work which it might have accomplished. 
 
 It is not my intention to enter at length into this most 
 painful episode of his life. That there was blame to be 
 attached to the actors on both sides no one can doubt, but the 
 apportionment of blame must be left to Him by whom alone 
 actions are weighed in unerring balances. The Vicar was at 
 times hasty in his judgments, inaccurate in his statements, and 
 over-vehement in his language. On the other hand, there 
 were great and real causes of irritation. In spite of his earnest 
 remonstrances and of the Bishop's, the clergy of St. Saviour's 
 persisted in doctrines and practices which he reprobated. 
 One after another in rapid succession, they fell away to Rome, 
 and then his Evangelical and Puritan opponents who had been 
 silenced, once more lifted up their voices, and cried aloud, 
 ' We told you that this is what, sooner or later, would come of 
 your teaching.' 
 
 The first Vicar of St. Saviour's was the Rev. R. Ward,' 
 who had formerly been a curate at the parish church, and who 
 was originally recommended for the office by Dr. Hook. This 
 fact became an additional source of vexation to him, and a 
 handle to his adversaries when things began to go badly. Mr. 
 
 ' No rehilion of Mr. Ward, the author of the Ideal of a Christian Cluircli.
 
 39^ Life of Walter Farqtthar Hook. 1844- 
 
 Ward was a warm-hearted and generous-minded man ; zealous, 
 energetic, and able, but impetuous in a high degree ; and since 
 his connexion with the parish church had ceased, his opinions 
 had become more unsettled than the Vicar was aware of. 
 
 For the greater i)art of a year, liowever, after the consecra- 
 tion of St. Saviour's there was nothing to disturb amicable 
 intercourse between the clergy of the two churches. The 
 Reverend E. Jackson ^ became clerk in orders to the parish 
 church in 1846. He was the intimate friend alike of the Vicar 
 and of Mr. Ward, and in the troubles which subsequently 
 arose he was the mediator between both. For a time he and 
 Mr. Anson,^ who had been a supernumerary curate at the 
 parish church, lived in the same house with some other clergy 
 and laymen attached to St. Saviour's, and took part in the work 
 of that parish. 
 
 Up to the autumn of 1846 St. Saviour's was only a district 
 church, and the clergy were responsible to the Vicar of Leeds ; 
 but as soon as it was constituted a distinct parish under the 
 Leeds Vicarage Act, the first mutterings of the storm began to 
 be heard. Mr. Ward printed a tract on the Holy Eucharist, 
 containing expressions to which the Bishop strongly objected. 
 The Vicar was annoyed by hearing that selections from the 
 Breviary were used at some of the services in the church. 
 The St. Saviour's community was joined by the Reverend R. 
 Macmullen from Oxford, and by a wealthy layman, Mr. Haigh, 
 a Leeds merchant, who resolved to devote ten or twelve thou- 
 sand pounds to building a church in the York road. On All 
 Saints' Day, when the foundation-stone of this church was laid, 
 Mr. Macmullen preached a sermon with i)arts of which the 
 Bishop expressed much dissatisfaction. 
 
 It was indeed verj' possible to argue, and was powerfully 
 argued, that such passages as those to which the Bishop 
 objected in Mr. Ward's tract and Mr. MacmuUen's sermon, 
 were really reconcilable with the teaching of the Church of 
 England. So, again it was represented to the Vicar that only 
 
 1 Now Vicar of St. James's, in Leeds, and Honorary Canon of Ripon. 
 
 2 Now Rector of Birch, and Archdeacon of Manchester.
 
 -1 849 The Storm bursts. 399 
 
 such parts of the Breviary were used at St. Saviour's as were 
 thoroughly consistent with primitive CathoHc doctrine. But 
 allowing the force of the arguments which were employed, this 
 system of special pleading was distasteful alike to the Vicar 
 and the Bishop. They maintained that such fine distinctions 
 between right and wrong in teaching and practice might be 
 intelligible amongst scholars and theologians, but were only too 
 likely to mislead the coarser understandings of the less learned. 
 It was better to call a spade a spade. 
 
 Anyhow, no arguments could reverse the melancholy fact 
 that persons connected with St. Saviour's now began to secede 
 to Rome. On New Year's day 1847 Dr. Hook wrote to Mr. 
 Wood :— 
 
 Last night I received a visit from Ward to announce to me that 
 Macmullen and four other of the St. Saviour's people go over to 
 Rome this morning. This includes Haigh, who had undertaken to 
 build the new church in York Road. I suppose that my usefulness 
 here is over, and, indeed, in the Church of England. I am begin- 
 ning to feel old, and I am quite ready to retire if I could obtain a 
 country living. My treatment is hard. Out of my family, my joy, 
 my happiness was in my parish. My desire was to exhibit a parish 
 well worked on the Church of England system ; to show that tlie 
 via media could be carried out. I had gained the confidence of 
 my people ; my opponents were softened and coming round, I was 
 beginning to feel that Leeds had become to me a perfect Paradise, 
 and now it is a howling wilderness. I begin to think this misery 
 is a chastisement for making my parish an idol and rejoicing too 
 much in the peace and happiness which I fancied I had secured 
 after ten years of toil and opposition. I have not wept so much for 
 many years as during the last three months, but when I look out 
 of myself to Him on whose help I rely, I take courage, and as I 
 have fought for the Church of England against the Puritans, so 
 will I now fight for her against the Romanisers. 
 
 Even allowing that his fears respecting the diminution of 
 his own usefulness were exaggerated, it must be owned that his 
 position was a distressing one. He had delivered in December 
 1846, at the Leeds Church Institution, a lecture entitled 'The 
 'Ihrce Reformations ; Lutheran, Roman, Anglican.' This
 
 400 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 lecture, which went through several editions, is in weiglit of 
 learning and force of diction one of his ablest compositions. 
 The lecture may easily be obtained, and it would be foreign to 
 my present purpose to summarise its general contents. But 
 throughout the whole of it he had an eye to warning Church- 
 men, and especially his own flock, against the Romanising 
 school, particularly their disparagement of the English Re- 
 formation and their inclination to mediaeval doctrine and prac- 
 tice. The Vicar of St. Saviour's, Mr. Ward, was present, and 
 at the conclusion of the lecture, being in a state of violent 
 excitement, complained that it was an attack upon the prin- 
 ciples of the clergy of St. Saviour's. In a note appended to 
 the lecture the author observes 'what the principles of the 
 clergy of St. Saviour's can be, except those of our Reformed 
 Branch of the Church Catholic, I am at a loss to conceive ; for 
 of that branch they are sworn members. If, however, as the 
 complaint referred to would indicate, there is arising there a 
 tendency to any other doctrine, the author thinks it right to 
 warn his flock that he is not responsible for any opinions pro- 
 mulgated at St. Saviour's. It is an independent vicarage.' 
 
 While the lecture was passing through the press the secession 
 of Mr. MacmuUen and his friends occurred. The Vicar, 
 therefore, added a postscript to the lecture, some brief extracts 
 from which may be taken as a formal declaration of his relations 
 with the church and clergy of St. Saviour's at this juncture. 
 
 About three months ago the district of St. Saviour's was con- 
 stituted a parish and a vicarage, under the Leeds Vicarage Act. 
 Until that time no attempt was made to pervert men to Rome, 
 because the clergy officiating within the district were responsible 
 to me, and I could have put a stop to their proceedings. But when 
 St. Savioui"'s became a parish separated from the parish of Leeds, 
 Mr. Macmullen and two other clergymen were sent from Oxford ; 
 and from that time there has been a systematic depreciation of the 
 Church of England, and a defence of the Church of Rome ; one of 
 the clergy going so far as to say that to speak against the Church 
 of Rome was a mortal sin, and lamenting that his lot had been cast 
 in the Church of England. 
 
 When I had ascertained the character of the proceedings, I re-
 
 -i849 Secessions to Rome. 401 
 
 monstrated with the patrons of the living, but I was warned that I 
 had no more to do with the parish of St. Saviour's than I have with 
 a parish in London, and when I ventured in reply to observe that 
 I might justly complain when a hornet's nest was planted at my 
 garden gate, the rejoinder was that what I took for a hornet's 
 nest was a hive of sweet honey. What the honey is, events have 
 shown. 
 
 To true-hearted members of the Church of England, the depar- 
 ture of Mr. Macmullen and his disciples is a satisfaction and relief; 
 we may hope that all Romanisers will follow his example. I have 
 no sympathy with the cant of those who urge us to retain such 
 persons in the Church, by permitting them to revile at will the 
 principles of the English Reformation. I am told that Mr. Mac- 
 mullen would have laboured in the Church if he had been permitted 
 to act thus : I rejoice to think that he is gone. When once they 
 honestly declare themselves these men become powerless ; no one 
 cares for what they say, write, or do. When they come to us as 
 friends they deceive the unwary. 
 
 ... It is due to them (the patrons of St. Saviour's) to say that 
 I do not believe that their intention was to send men over to 
 Rome ; but they would not listen to my remonstrances, or proceed 
 to act when I solemnly called upon them in the name of God to 
 withdraw the clergy they had sent to Leeds. Their answer to me 
 was, that if I suspected them of Romanising, I was myself regarded 
 by many as a Papist. It may be so. But in my declining years, 
 while I have much to regret as regards the past, I have the satis- 
 faction of being able to look back to a life of honest and earnest, if 
 not successful, service to the Church of England, having always 
 acted on the principles of the English Reformation, and I read 
 with complacence the sentence I have placed as the motto on my 
 title-page. 
 
 The motto here alluded to was the following sentence 
 from one of the letters of Mr. Alexander Knox : ' You can 
 easily conceive that when anyone stands on a middle point 
 between two others who are with respect to him strictly ccjui- 
 distant, he must, from the inevitable laws of perspective, appear 
 to both, not to be in the middle, but comparatively near the 
 opposite party.' 
 
 In like manner, in a sermon preached in the parish church 
 D D
 
 402 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 a week after the secessions from St. Saviour's, he warned his 
 people that by the maHgnant those events would be represented 
 as the result of principles inculcated from the pulpit of the 
 parish church. ' It is well therefore for you to be reminded of 
 what you are well aware, that the principles here inculcated are, 
 and, while life lasts to me, ever shall be, the ■ same ; the good 
 old principles of the Church of England, equally removed from 
 Puritanism or Popery. I confidently rely on the generous 
 support of my whole flock.' 
 
 These forebodings of misrepresentation were verified. The 
 Evangelical clergy and laity of Leeds and the neighbourhood 
 lost no time in forwarding two addresses to the Bishop. Tliey 
 plumed themselves on their caution in having refused to attend 
 the consecration of St. Saviour's, and on their foresight in having 
 prophesied that apostasies to Rome would be the result of prin- 
 ciples ' industriously and insidiously inculcated by the teachers 
 of a school which, speciously professing to avoid the opposite 
 extremes of Romanism and ultra-Protestantism, has artfully 
 endeavoured to conceal from the young, unwary, and partially- 
 informed members of our communion their longing for a closer 
 approximation to the Roman Catholic Church in doctrine and 
 practice.' 
 
 The speakers at a meeting of the Evangelical Alliance, on 
 January 20, thundered away against Tractarians and Puseyites ; 
 and that portion of the local press which represented the views 
 of Nonconformists could not forbear indulging in a little 
 sarcastic pleasantry, at the expense of the unhappy Vicar. 
 
 On the other hand, the overtures of the Evangelicals to the 
 Bishop did not meet with such a favourable response as some 
 of them, perhaps, had anticipated. The steady support and 
 sympathy, indeed, of his Bishop was an immense consolation to 
 the Vicar during this season of trial. 
 
 Whilst these events had been taking place, and the Vicar 
 was worried by the vituperation of extreme Protestants on the 
 one hand, and by the remonstrances of extreme Puseyites on 
 the other, he had brought down upon himself a perfect storm 
 of reproaches from a large number of Churchmen of all parties,
 
 -1 849 Letter to Bishop of St. David's. 403 
 
 and Dissenters, by his letter to the Bishop of St. David's, 
 entitled ' How to Render more Efficient the Education of the 
 People.' 
 
 The intention of this celebrated pamphlet was in the finst 
 place to convince the minds of Churchmen and Dissenters 
 that it was beyond the power of voluntary efforts to provide an 
 education, adequate in quantity and quality to the needs of 
 the population. 'I admit,' he said, 'with gratitude the good 
 which has been accomplished through the instrumentality of 
 the National Society. I concede with pleasure the credit 
 which is due to Dissenting Societies, especially to the 
 Methodists. . . . But, my lord, when I look upon all that has 
 been done I ask what is the result? I must contend that, 
 comi>ared with the educational wants of the country, we have 
 done next to nothing ; we have lighted a lantern which only 
 makes us more sensible of the surrounding darkness.' He drew 
 a pathetic and humorous picture of the enormous difficulty 
 with which the clergyman of a poor and populous district 
 started a school, and the still greater difficulty of supporting it 
 when it was established ; he dwelt upon the miserable salary of 
 the schoolmaster, the insufficiency of the monitorial system, 
 the need of apprenticed pupils and trained assistants, and of a 
 better supply of books and other school apparatus. He entered 
 into statistics at considerable length to prove that the number 
 of children, in proportion to the population of England and 
 Wales, who ought to be at school was 2,000,000, that the total 
 cost of their education would amount to about 2,500,000/., that 
 the probable income from school pence and voluntary 
 subscriptions would not exceed 1,400,000/., and that consequently 
 a balance of more than 1,000,000/. remained to be made up 
 from endowment, Parliamentary grants, or local taxation. 
 
 It was necessary then that the State should interfere, and 
 some method of indirect compulsion ought to be adopted. 
 But the objection which all religious people, whether Church- 
 men or Dissenters, had hitherto entertained to all proposals 
 in favour of a State education hinged upon the religious 
 difficulty. The State could not consistently undertake to
 
 404 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 educate the whole people upon a religious basis which was not 
 common to the whole. And if you sought for this common 
 basis, where was it to be found ? Not in the Church ; not 
 in any of the countless varieties of sects : not in the Bible, 
 since all disagreed respecting the interpretation of the Bible. 
 ' Upon investigating the subject,' he said, ' we find that a notion 
 prevails among careless people that religion may be treated as 
 either general or special ; special religion is doctrinal ; and 
 general reUgion is some system of morals, which, being 
 divested of all doctrine, looks so like no religion at all, that 
 religious persons at once perceive that when people talk of an 
 education based on such a religion, they deceive themselves as 
 well as us.' 
 
 Such a system, he maintained, would ultimately unchris- 
 tianise the country. 'To separate,' he said, 'the morality of 
 the Gospel from the doctrines of the Gospel, everyone who 
 knows what the Gospel is knows to be impossible. The doc- 
 trines of grace and of good works are so interwoven that they 
 must stand or fall together. Doctrine and morality are like 
 body and soul. The pretended mother may be willing to 
 divide them ; they who know what the Gospel is, will, like the 
 true mother before the throne of Solomon, suffer any affliction 
 before they will consent to it. Satan could devise no scheme 
 for the extirpation of Christianity more crafty or more sure 
 than this, which would substitute a system of morals for 
 religion.' 
 
 How then was the problem to be solved ? How should a 
 religious education — a religious education which was a reality, 
 not a counterfeit or a phantom — be secured for the whole 
 people ? He submitted a plan to the consideration of the 
 public. Let schools be established, supported by the State, in 
 which that secular instruction only should be given upon which 
 all denominations would agree, but let every child be required 
 to bring each week a certificate of having attended the Sunday 
 School either of his parish church, or some legally licensed 
 place of worship. Further, let class-rooms be attached to such 
 schools, in which on the afternoons of Wednesdays and Fridays,
 
 -1 849 Scheme for National Education. 405 
 
 the parish clergy or their deputies, and the Dissenting ministers 
 should give religious instruction separately to the children of 
 their respective flocks. ' I do not ask,' he said, ' whether such 
 an arrangement would be preferred to any other by either 
 party, for each party would prefer having everything their own 
 way ; but I do ask whether there could be any violation of 
 principle on either side ? I ask whether, for the sake of a great 
 national object, there might not be a sacrifice, not of principle, 
 but of prejudice on either side ? ' 
 
 With regard to the financial support and the management 
 of such schools, he proposed that county rates should be 
 levied, to be fixed by the magistrates at the quarter sessions ; 
 that each county should be divided into school districts, and 
 that for each district a Board of Management should be 
 formed, to be open to all persons, without any distinction of 
 religious denomination or political party. The right of appoint- 
 ing to this board was to be vested in the county magistrates, as 
 persons interested in the general welfare of a county, suffi- 
 ciently cognisant of the wants of particular localities, yet 
 removed from parochial or municipal cabals. Such a mode of 
 appointment he suggested as infinitely preferable to the repre- 
 sentative system with all its concomitant agitation of canvassing 
 and controversy, triumph and defeat. 
 
 Such is an outline of the scheme propounded in this pam- 
 phlet, which, with the exception of the sermon ' Hear the 
 Church,' produced a greater sensation than anything the 
 author ever wrote. 
 
 The advocates of the voluntary system. Churchmen and 
 Dissenters, were of course exceedingly vexed with him for 
 positively asserting the necessity of interference on the part of 
 the State. They endeavoured to upset his figures, and to 
 show that the proportion of children relative to the population 
 who were receiving education, was much larger than he repre- 
 sented it to be. The supporters of the National Society were 
 offended because he had insinuated that it could not, or did not, 
 act strictly upon the principles of the Church, from fear 
 of losing subscribers. Establishmentarians and many High
 
 4o6 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 Churchmen were shocked at his assertion that the Church of 
 England had no exclusive claim as an establishment to pecu- 
 niary support from the State ; that, being no longer co-exten- 
 sive with the nation, it was simply one of the many corporations 
 of the country, claiming from the State protection for its rights 
 and i^roperty, but no more. 
 
 The clergy generally were offended at the contemptuous 
 tone in which he spoke of the quality of religious education 
 given in many of their schools. But the greatest outcry was 
 raised against the proposal to sever education into two parts, 
 secular and religious. It was contended that the religious 
 element would lose all its efficacy if it was relegated to certain 
 days, and shunted into class-rooms ; that, to be worth anything, 
 it should animate and pervade the teaching of the whole 
 school day by day, and be, so to speak, as the spirit to the 
 body. With regard to this point, however, it seems to have 
 been too commonly assumed that the secular instructor 
 would as a matter of course, if not necessity, exercise no 
 religious influence whatever. Yet it was never supposed 
 by the projector of the scheme, that the School Boards 
 would appoint irreligious, ungodly men to be masters ; and a 
 religious-minded master cannot fail to exercise a religious in- 
 fluence, although his special work may be confined to secular 
 instruction. 
 
 In a letter dated July 1S46 the Vicar writes, ' I hear that I 
 am praised by some papers and abused by others for my pam- 
 phlet on education. I am too old to care for praise or blame. 
 But I know I am right, and when // is too late Churchmen will 
 see that I am.' He was a true prophet. We now have the 
 Board School without the religious teaching which his plan 
 would have secured. 
 
 The scheme met with a very favourable reception from a 
 considerable and influential section of the Liberal party, and 
 was supported more or less by a large part of the public press 
 and critical journals, including even the 'Quarterly Review.' 
 But any hopes which the Liberals may have entertained of 
 practically adopting the plan were defeated by the vigorous
 
 -1 849 Speech on Education. 407 
 
 and combined attack made upon it by High Churchmen, 
 Dissenters, Establishmentarians, and the National Society. 
 
 Meanwhile, in the same year, 1846, in which the pamphlet 
 appeared, the course of popular education was advanced by 
 the substitution of the present system of pupil-teachers, 
 working under trained and certified masters and mistresses, 
 for the old inefficient system of monitors and unskilled 
 teachers. The Parliamentary grant, which amounted this year 
 to 100,000/., was to be applied to the building of schools, 
 the training and remuneration of teachers, and increased 
 annual inspection in sums proportioned to the amount 
 of local contributions, and bestowed without respect to 
 religious distinctions. This equitable measure, however, was 
 opposed by extreme High Churchmen and Dissenters with the 
 most determined hostility, although from opposite motives : 
 the former because they resented the interference of the State, 
 the latter because they foresaw that the greater wealth of the 
 Church would enable it to claim the Uon's share of the Govern- 
 ment fund. 
 
 The Vicar of Leeds, on the contrary, heartily supported 
 the movement as a step in the right direction. In March 
 1847 he attended a large public meeting held in Leeds, under 
 the presidency of the Mayor, for the purpose of expressing 
 approval of the new Educational Minutes. There was a large 
 gathering of Evangelicals, and some extreme Radicals. The 
 Vicar arrived late, after one of his Lent services in the parish 
 church. His entrance was greeted with immense cheering ; 
 the Chartist Churchwardens, who had been put into office 
 three years before to oppose him, being conspicuous in their 
 loud calls for three cheers more. The Vicar spoke with energy 
 and warmth. The measure of the Government, he said, did 
 not go so far as his plan, but because they would not go with 
 him twenty miles, he saw no reason why he should refuse to go 
 with them five. The only questions were, in the first place, 
 whether they would accept the principle of State interference, 
 and in the second place, would this measure assist all parties 
 fairly ; if so, they ought to support it.
 
 4o8 Life of Walter Fargtchar Hook. 1844- 
 
 I may sometimes have given you offence, but I hope you believe 
 that I am your friend, desirous in eveiy possible way to promote 
 your interests. My heart is right, my heart is yours, and 1 call 
 upon you to prevent the cause of education being retarded in its pro- 
 gress. I call upon you to assist the Government of this country to 
 reward merit as well as to punish vice. I call upon you to assist 
 them to do what will add to the comfort, the respectability, and the 
 intelligence of the working people. I call upon you to assist in 
 doing what will enable you to educate your children so that they 
 may be able worthily to exercise any constitutional privilege with 
 which they may be entrusted. In a word, I call upon you to assist 
 the Government to empty gaols by building schools. 
 
 At another large meeting held not long afterwards in the 
 Cloth Hall yard he spoke to the same effect, and addressing 
 the Dissenters present, who had vehemently denounced the 
 measure, he said, ' If you are satisfied with the quantity and 
 quality of education in this country, I have no more to say ; if 
 you can do without State aid, so can I. The number of chil- 
 dren in Church schools at the present time is about a million, 
 and in Dissenting schools about 100,000.' 
 
 He had the pleasure of seeing a practical proof in Leeds 
 about this time of approval of the Government measure. The 
 administrators of the late Mr. Christopher Beckett's affairs 
 assigned 1,000/. to be applied by Dr. Hook, Mr. Sinclair, and 
 Mr. Fawcett to the purpose of enabling schools to obtain aid 
 from the State. He could reflect also with no small gratifica- 
 tion on the educational work which the Church had accom- 
 plished during the past ten years in Leeds, since he had 
 become Vicar ; fourteen schools having been built in that 
 period at a cost of about 20,000/., affording accommodation for 
 upwards of 7,000 children. 
 
 Nor was the progress of church-building less satisfactory. 
 In laying the foundation-stone of St. Thomas's Church in the 
 Leylands, the gift of Mr. Rhodes, the Vicar said that other 
 churches were in course of erection, and when they were 
 finished, he should be able to point to twelve churches built 
 since he had become Vicar. If anything, he added, could 
 make a man proud of his parish surely this would.
 
 -1 849 Hard Work. 409 
 
 Little more remains to be said respecting his attitude 
 towards public and political events at this period. It will be 
 seen from a letter appended to this chapter that he approved, 
 after full consideration, of the justice of the grant to Maynooth, 
 and of the admission of the Jews to Parliament. At the same 
 time the incongruity of a Parliament to which Jews, infidels, 
 and heretics were admissible legislating for the Church appeared 
 to him so glaring, and the consequent difficulty of maintaining 
 Church principles in their integrity so serious, that the partiality 
 of his more youthful days for a disestablished Church began to 
 revive. He was quite prepared to sacrifice the property of the 
 Church in order to save its principles, and he would have 
 preferred to see a voluntary surrender on the part of the 
 Church, rather than have it forced upon her from without. 
 *Give us liberty,' he said, 'and we will pay the price — our 
 property. Without our liberty the loss of our property is spo- 
 liation ; wath our liberty it is a bargain.' The tyrannical 
 manner in which the Crown had lately forced the appointment 
 of Dr. Hampden to the See of Hereford, against the wishes of 
 the vast majority of Churchmen, increased the Vicar's inclina- 
 tion to Disestablishment. 
 
 Turning now to the more private and parochial aspect of 
 the Vicar's life between the years 1844 and 1849, the period 
 seems to have been that in which his practical energy and 
 mental activity reached their highest pitch. He had now 
 become confirmed in the habit of rising very early, and the 
 amount of literary work, sermon-writing, and correspondence 
 which he got through in those morning hours was prodi- 
 gious. By December 1848 he had completed the fifth 
 volume of his ' Dictionary of Ecclesiastical Biography,' which 
 he began to write in 1844, and had revised his ' Church Dic- 
 tionary' for the fifth edition. He was also editor of the 
 ' Devotional Library,' the title given to a series of devotional 
 books which were compiled by a variety of authors under his 
 superintendence. The most successful works of this class 
 were the well-known * Meditations for Every Day in the Year,' 
 composed by his wife ; and ' The Christian Taught by the
 
 4IO Life of Walte7^ Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 Church's Services.' In addition to these greater undertakings, 
 he poured forth tracts in inexhaustible profusion. And yet 
 he contrived to read largely in preparation for his sermons, 
 and to peruse books of the day, such as Macaulay's ' History of 
 England.' 
 
 During Lent it was now his custom to preach every evening, 
 with the exception of Saturday, in the parish church, and of 
 course always once on Sunday, most commonly twice ; and 
 it must be remembered that nearly all his sermons and 
 lectures were written. He never preached extempore unless, 
 compelled by great stress of circumstances. All these efforts- 
 were not thrown away. The people responded heartily to the 
 rich provision made in the parish church for their spiritual 
 benefit. The enormous congregations, especially during the 
 years 1847 and 1848, were an immense encouragement to him 
 at a time when he was often inclined to be deeply depressed, 
 owing to the worries in connexion with St. Saviour's. ' You 
 cannot think,' he writes in a letter to Mr. Wood, 'what a relief 
 it is to me to feel that my work in Leeds is not done, and that 
 my heavenly Father does not intend me to quit this part of the 
 battle-field. Yours egotistically, W. F. H.' 
 
 Between 1847 and 1849 he published an unusual number of 
 sermons, bearing on the differences between the Church of 
 England and the Church of Rome, suggested for the most part 
 by the proceedings at St. Saviour's. Eminent among these 
 were two preached early in the year 1847, one entitled 'The 
 Invocation of Saints a Romish Sin, the Communion of Saints 
 an Article of the Creed,' the other ' The Mother of our Lord, 
 and Mariolatry.' 
 
 At the request of the Bishop of Ripon, Mr. Ward resigned 
 the living of St. Saviour's in January 1847, ^"d one of his curates 
 went with him. Both seceded to Rome a few years afterwards. 
 For eighteen months the clerical staff" from various causes was 
 continually being shifted, and during this broken time the 
 inclination of the clergy to transgress the bounds of sober 
 teaching and practice became increasingly manifest. Romish 
 books of devotion were too freely used, and confession,
 
 -1 849 Sermon on Confession. 41 1 
 
 instead of being reserved for exceptional cases, was encouraged 
 as an habitual part of the ordinary preparation for reception of 
 the Holy Eucharist. 
 
 Upon this subject the Vicar preached a sermon, in the 
 autumn of 1848, in the parish church, with a view to exhibit- 
 ing the teaching of the primitive and the English Reformed 
 Church, as distinguished from the Mediaeval Church. He sums 
 up that teaching at the close of his sermon in the following 
 forcible language : 
 
 And now I conclude with pointing out in one sentence the 
 difference between ourselves and the Church of Rome. The Church 
 of Rome regards confession to man as a means of grace ; this we 
 deny. At the same time we regard it as a means of comfort to 
 weak minds and scrupulous consciences, and to persons in difficulty 
 or in doubt. The Church of Rome makes it the rule — we the excep- 
 tion. The Church of Rome commands it ; the Church of 
 England permits it. The Church of England, in accordance 
 with Scripture, the Primitive Church, and the Greek Church, 
 asserts that confession to God alone is sufficient, is the rule, is the 
 course which ought to be pursued in all but exceptional cases. 
 And in this respect, to the Church of England, to the Primitive 
 Church, to the Greek Church, and to the written and infallible 
 Word of the Living God, the Church of Rome stands opposed. 
 
 In addition to the worry arising from the doings of the 
 clergy at St. Saviour's, a gentleman who had been a curate to 
 the parish church, but had resigned his curacy in the spring of 
 1848, seceded to Rome in the autumn of that year. This was 
 one of the most severe parochial trials the Vicar ever under- 
 went. He had never entertained any suspicions of the seceder 
 being disaffected during the time of his connexion with the 
 parish church ; and astonishment was mingled with indignation. 
 The natural impetuosity of his temperament betrayed him into 
 a hasty and credulous assent to some false statements that the 
 seceder had actually been received into the Church of Rome 
 before he had resigned his curacy at Leeds. He soon liecame 
 convinced that this was a baseless fabrication ; but his confidence 
 in the straightforwardness of the Romanising school was now
 
 412 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 1 — — _ . 
 
 so thoroughly shaken, that he was sometimes too ready to 
 iDeUeve statements concerning them on insufficient evidence. 
 
 In addition to the ecclesiastical troubles by which he was 
 beset during the years 1847 to 1849, the outbreak of severe 
 epidemics, and the depression of trade, reducing the operatives 
 to great distress, were causes of much anxiety and of increased 
 labour. A malignant kind of fever raged during the year 1847, 
 chiefly amongst the Irish population of the town, and one of the 
 curates,^ a young man of great physical strength, fell a victim 
 to it, from his indefatigable exertions in visiting, sometimes 
 nursing the sufferers, or putting the dead into coffins, when 
 even their own relations dared not go near them. In 1848, 
 -workmen were thrown out of employment in vast numbers, and 
 the destitution was appalling ; fifteen thousand persons were 
 receiving relief at one time from the public soup kitchen ; their 
 average weekly earnings did not reach lod. a head ; the rates 
 were very heavy, and it was with difficulty that funds were 
 raised sufficient to meet the immense strain put upon public 
 ■charity. 
 
 The Republican feeling imported from the Continent ran so 
 high among the working people, that the clergy being supposed 
 to sympathise with the aristocracy, were exceedingly unpopular, 
 notwithstanding their activity in the relief of distress. This was 
 also partly due to the old and singular delusion, diligently 
 propagated by demagogues, and by no means exploded even now 
 amongst the vulgar, that the clergy were paid out of the taxes. 
 In a letter written at that time by the Vicar he says, ' As the 
 aristocracy cannot be assailed in towns where they do not live, 
 the clergy, who are supposed to be attached to them, will be the 
 first persons to suffer in the event of an outbreak. People are 
 taught to believe that we live on the taxes. If we refuse to 
 give money to an undeserving beggar, the common answer is, 
 •*'Why, /payyou."' 
 
 The accumulation of worries by which he had been 
 harassed during the year 1848 broke down his health for a time, 
 .and he was compelled to pass several weeks at the close of that 
 
 1 Mr. Stanley Alonck, first cousin to the editor.
 
 -i849 Heavy Work. 41J. 
 
 year and the beginning of 1849 in comparative idleness. In 
 the spring, however, he completely rallied from his weakness- 
 and was able to take his full share in the heavy work which fell 
 upon all the clergy of Leeds, but more especially upon the 
 clergy of the parish church and of St. Saviour's, during the severe 
 visitation of cholera in the summer and autumn of 1849 j "^or 
 was he ever, I believe, seriously unwell again, or incapacitated 
 from work, for more than a day or two from this time to near 
 the end of his life. 
 
 Besides his literary work, strictly so called, and sermon- 
 writing, his correspondence with private friends, public men, 
 and persons who sought his advice from all parts of the country, 
 had now become very voluminous, and was continually increas- 
 ing. There was a class of persons whom he called his ' spiritual 
 children,' being for the most part those whom he had reclaimed 
 from Dissent, or vice, or worldliness, to whom he wrote once a 
 month at least. He began to keep a brief diary in the year 1 849, 
 and from the entries in it his epistolary work appears to have 
 commonly varied from ten to twenty or even thirty letters a day. 
 Able and hard-working men were lost in astonishment at these 
 extraordinary feats of mental activity and industry in such a 
 variety of departments. The Rev. F. E. Paget, the clever and 
 witty author of the 'Tales of a Village,' and many other books, 
 in one of his letters at this time says, ' How you get through 
 what you do, and as you do, is to me utterly inconceivable, 
 who crawl at a snail's pace for half an inch, and then slip back 
 an inch while I am admiring my progress. I have been lately 
 reading a volume of your biography, and there again was utterly 
 staggered. How can you find time for such things ? ' How, 
 indeed, when one considers that the whole of the day after 
 breakfast, and most of the evenings were occupied by callers^ 
 visits to the sick, and attendance at meetings or classes ? 
 
 Here is a specimen of one day's list of callers, as noted in 
 his journal for March 29, which was the middle of Lent when,. 
 as already mentioned, he preached every evening. 
 
 ' (i) Mr, Long to consult about appointing a parish clerk, 
 (2) Mr. to consult about his love affeirs. (3) Mrs. •
 
 414 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 to consult about the propriety of a separation of her niece from 
 her husband, who is treating her ill. (4) Dr. B. to. obtain a 
 
 letter of introduction to the Vicar of Castle Gary. (5) Mr. 
 
 to consult about his brother's marriage. (6) Mr. W. to consult 
 about a dispute between him and Mr. A. (7) Mr. Long again. 
 
 (8) Mr. Nunns to administer the oath preparatory to his licence. 
 
 (9) Mr. Teal about my commission in London on the division 
 of parishes. (10) Mr. William Gott to consult about sending 
 his son to Oxford. (11) And here comes a note from the 
 Mayor, and I am to decide whether I am to engage in a new 
 educational agitation. Oh ! my poor brain, how bewildered 
 it is ! ' 
 
 LETTERS, 1844-1S49. 
 
 To IV. E. Gladstone, Esq. — An ' Order of Mercy? 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : January 22, 1844. 
 
 ... As to an Order of Mercy, the fact that people talk of 
 establishing such a thing is proof that it will not succeed — at least, 
 to my mind. In the kingdom of grace, as in the kingdom of nature, 
 great things are the result of small beginnings. If you had told me 
 that you had lately discovered a society of persons, calling them- 
 selves an Order of Mercy, who though only five or six in number 
 had been for the last ten years doing immense good, and it was 
 intended to add to their efficiency, then I should hope for success ; 
 they would have framed rules as practical men, and they would 
 have had their existence, and gained certain supporters, before the 
 world could attack them. I fear that the new Order of Mercy will 
 be veiy much like the lay agency of the Pastoral-Aid Society ; it 
 will be to some persons a more pleasant way of earning 50/. a 
 year than their profession or trade. The labour of pay and the 
 labour of love are very different things. Dr. Wiseman's nuns in 
 Birmingham, by their gentle, affectionate attendance on the poor, 
 were found a short time ago to be winning people to Romanism ; 
 and the clergy of Birmingham were not contented with abusing the 
 nuns. They wished to meet them by having a set of paid nurses, 
 but, of course, the end was not answered. The fact is, that no
 
 -1 849 Letters, 1 844-1 849. 415 
 
 institution of a religious character will answer, which has not for 
 its immediate object the promotion of God's glory by the increase 
 of piety in the individuals fonning it. As they become pious, they, 
 for the glory of God, will do good works, and will undertake the 
 visiting of the poor ; but if the direct object be the relief of the 
 poor, the institution will only supply a better class of overseers. 
 
 I would mention to you, though I wish the thing not to be 
 talked about, that we have such an institution in Leeds. One of 
 the clergy^ has already in his house one priest and three laymen 
 (the priest being his curate to whom he gives food and lodging) 
 who are laying the seeds of an Order of Mercy ; I enclose a copy 
 of their very strict rules, which I should like to have returned. On 
 Tuesday next, they proceed to visit from house to house in the 
 clerg^'man's district. They have hitherto been engaged in looking 
 out the best of the poor, and training them : they expect soon to 
 be joined by the son of a Swiss pastor, who wishes his son to be 
 trained in our Church. This household may do much good, but I 
 do not wish the plan to be connected with my name at present. 
 IMy friends, as you will readily suppose, are enthusiastically and 
 ascetically pious, and such persons will do injudicious things. 
 Young societies, like young persons, will sow wild oats ; at the 
 same time a restraining hand would irritate rather than restrain 
 them. We have therefore an understanding, that they are to go 
 their own way for two years ; then, when I have seen how they 
 have worked, we may take measures for their extension. At pre- 
 sent, they only form a family in my parish, and in this free country, 
 every man may regulate his family as he sees fit. The family con- 
 sists of the clergj'man, who has sufficient income for the purpose, 
 his curate, who receives board and lodging, and finds raiment for 
 himself ; a young man who is the son of a clergyman, and who has 
 given up a situation of 300/. a year, to come here ; and two con- 
 verted local preachers, who give up their trade, and have no pay, 
 only board and lodging. 
 
 Advice o)t the Formation of a Society of Lay Helpers. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : January 25, 1844. 
 My dear Mr. Gladstone, — I shall be most happy to receive any 
 
 communication from Lord with which he is inclined to favour 
 
 me ; and you are at perfect liberty to show him the rules, only 
 premising that, in my opinion, they are too strict for a commence- 
 ment.
 
 41 6 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 The clergyman who is conducting the measure here is Mr. y 
 
 once a Methodist preacher of the greatest celebrity ; and I have 
 brought him here for the purpose. My plan has always been to 
 avail myself of the services of an enthusiast, under the idea that 
 most great things are accomplished by one man enthusiastically 
 devoted to one object. Many and many have been the difficulties 
 in which (by this course) I have been involved, but though at the 
 
 price of some personal annoyance, it has worked well. Mr. is 
 
 such a person : like most enthusiasts, he is one-sided ; he thinks 
 that no one can be a good Christian unless, like himself, he is pre- 
 pared to sell all and become an ascetic ; and being a mpst eloquent 
 preacher, he propounds his notions with great force, though some- 
 times (as he preaches extemporaneously) with little judgment. I do 
 not wish therefore to be committed to him, or to take the responsibi- 
 lity of his proceedings upon myself. But I am very decidedly against 
 
 an advertisement ; let Lord , as the originator, become a beggar 
 
 among his friends ; it is an unpleasant office, but we must do- 
 unpleasant things. If he were to come here, and make a personal 
 application to three or four persons, to whom I could introduce 
 him, he would obtain several donations here ; and what can be 
 done here could be done in other places ; and then, as a Leeds 
 man may say, according to the cloth let us cut the coat. In raising 
 subscriptions I should not give the proposed institution a name, 
 but merely describe it as intended to provide lay help. I would 
 only ask men of sound principles to become the first subscribers, 
 and then, having the funds, I would, at a general though private 
 meeting of the subscribers, devise the rules, and adopt the title. If 
 it becomes really efficient it will probably be eventually known by 
 the nickname given to it by enemies. Every Christian Society, as 
 every Christian man and principle, thrives chiefly by being opposed 
 and abused. Our enemies preach sound doctrine when undertaking 
 to refute it ; they suggest the truth, which will commend itself after 
 a time, at the very time they attack it ; and they advertise the 
 Society they assail. . , . 
 
 Another point on which I would earnestly insist is this, that all 
 three duties, duty to God, duty to self, and duty to our neighbour, 
 should be attended to, not one to the exclusion of the other. The 
 whole scheme is for the glory of God : it must be conducted by 
 those who through self-discipline aim at perfection, and whose 
 discipline of self will consist in doing good and unpleasant offices to 
 the indigent and miserable in body and mind. Francis of Assisi
 
 -i849 Letters, 1844.-1849. 417 
 
 began his career by hugging a leper, and devoting himself to those 
 poor outcasts. Of course, if the glory of God is forgotten, every 
 society must fail, but what was the cause of failure in the older 
 monasteries, which, when Francis appeared, rendered a new order 
 necessar)'? The monks had given themselves to self-discipline, 
 but active charity they had forgotten ; this the friars attempted to 
 remedy, and succeeded for a time, but failed when, in their atten- 
 tion to the good of the Church and of their brethren, their disci- 
 pline became a mere form. Ultra-Protestants generally do not aim 
 at perfection ; they look upon a converted man as sure of heaven, 
 and this being enough they remain stationar)^ Societies like the 
 Pastoral Aid would only employ what they would style a regene- 
 rated person ; but no steps are taken to make that person more 
 perfect, that is, they fail in one of the three particulars. I believe I 
 am repeating what I said in my former letter, but it is a point on 
 which I insist after much thought for a long time : the institution 
 must be disciplinary, as well as charitable. 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. — Thoughts suggested by a Visit to 
 IVificheste?'. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : May 14, 1844. 
 
 Of all places at Winchester, the one I looked upon with the 
 greatest delight was that old hayloft, where we used to hide, and 
 where our early friendship commenced. How full were my thoughts, 
 dearest Wood, of you while I was at Winchester, and how I 
 should like to visit those haunts with you once again ! Years 
 are passing over us, we are reminded of this as we visit the scenes 
 of our boyhood ; death is approaching, and we all the while how un- 
 prepared ! O may the Holy Spirit, whose coming as the Comforter 
 we are about to commemorate, enable us to prepare our souls for the 
 everlasting mansions ! O that we may be everlastingly united in 
 bliss, when this world and the fashion of it shall have passed away ! 
 I love so many people so very much in whose society I should like 
 always to be, that I always fix my thoughts of the future on the 
 idea of meeting them. How shall we all understand one another ! 
 no doubts, no difficulties ! none of that fear of offending and hurt- 
 ing one another's feelings which when we speak the plain truth is 
 so painful here. We shall then see how we helped one another, 
 and I, as a pastor, shall discover how and why it is that there are 
 some poor souls, who come to me for spiritual advice, whose cases 
 
 EE
 
 41 8 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 1 can never understand. But oh ! the agony of thinking that 
 though there will be this bliss, yet I, unworthy sinner, may never 
 attain unto it. How dreadful is this thought when it arises, and 
 how often must it arise in the heart of a pastor, who has souls 
 laid bare to him, so much holier than his own. The end is, my 
 dear Wood, that we must pray for one another ; let us help one 
 another by our prayers, and God send us a good deliverance ! 
 
 To J/;-. Wood — Pcrincwus I'lffccls of iiltra-Protcsiaiitisni. 
 
 December 1844. 
 
 Ultra-Protestantism demoralises the country. Its one doctrine 
 is 'justification by the feelings' — 'I feel happy, therefore I am 
 saved, or I believe I am saved (which is only another mode of 
 expressing the same thing), and therefore I am saved.' Here, in 
 Leeds, this doctrine has blinded the moral perceptions of the 
 Methodists and Evangelicals. They think themselves safe, when 
 they have experienced certain feelings, whatever their conduct may 
 be, and by opposing the distinction of sins, declaring it to be Popery 
 to speak of venial sins, since they say all sins are mortal, forgetting 
 that though this is true in the abstract, it is not true with Christians, 
 of whom it is said, ' if any man sin ' (i.e. sin a sin not unto death), 
 ' we have an advocate ' &c. — I say, maintaining in words that all 
 sin is mortal, they in fact hold that all sins are venial. Conse- 
 quently the greatest sins are treated like the common in- 
 tirmities. . . . 
 
 Let us take care of our conduct, and God will take care of our 
 feelings, and make them fer\ent or dry as to Him shall seem expe- 
 dient. In devotional exercises what we have to look to is our 
 intention. If we intend to do right, God knows the heart and we 
 have an Advocate with the Father for our ignorances and negli- 
 gences. For instance, I go to church ; my intention is to worship 
 God ; my mind wanders : while I grieve for this, I do not fear, 
 because God knows it was unintentional, and Christ is interceding 
 for me. 
 
 To tJie Rev. F. Paget— A l^rojccted Magazine. 
 
 Leeds : December 1844. 
 As to the Magazine, 1 doubt whether you or I could get up any- 
 thing like the paper of Chambers. I do not mean that we cnuld 
 not imitate him, but we could never command his circulation. 1
 
 -1 849 LdtCTS, 1 844-1 849. 419 
 
 live among that class which reads his works, the working people, 
 and I know them ; and without knowing anything of Mr. Chambers 
 I venture to guess that he has risen entirely out of the working 
 class, that he began as a printei"'s apprentice and was long a 
 journeyman printer. Anything done by one of their own ' order ' 
 the working classes will patronise, and no one can meet their 
 wants or understand them, except a man who has been one of them. 
 As to religion, Christianity scarcely exists among the mass. They 
 are no longer sectarians, but are utterly indifferent to religion, look- 
 ing upon it generally as a luxury for the rich ; and nothing of a 
 directly religious character will circulate among them to any great 
 extent. I do not mention this to show that nothing ought to be 
 done, for there are many exceptions, and many who would gladly 
 accept a cheap religious periodical ; but only \\'hy I think we could 
 not secure members sufficient to pay for such a magazine as 
 Chambers's. , . . 
 
 I think if we can do something to gi\"e offence to those who 
 ought to be offended, and so to secure an attack, it will be of ad- 
 vantage. You must remember that if the ' Standard,' &c., prevents 
 one person from taking us in, its abuse will make ten read us. I 
 do really believe that abuse assists us in our usefulness more than 
 praise. 1 have found it so ; and then it is so much better for one's 
 soul. 
 
 To IF. P. IVood, Esq. — Hard luork — Efforts after Economy 
 {with 7-cservatioii). 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : April 26, 1845. 
 
 My very very dear friend,— It is not, I assure you, from want of 
 thinking of you daily that I have not written to you. Your letter 
 has every day met my eye, but I have felt that I could put off 
 writing to you, when I could not put off writing to others. Is not 
 this a proof of my confidence in your friendship .-* And is it not 
 also an act of self-denial .'' But my professional writing has in- 
 creased and is increasing upon me. You would be surprised at the 
 number of letters I have to write, on either cases of conscience, or 
 on points of professional duty. And they are letters which require 
 to be answered carefully. . . . Sometimes I have been so wearied 
 with letter-writing, and ringing at my bell by persons coming to 
 consult me on all manner of things, that I have felt inclined to sit 
 -down and crj'. ... I have had, too, several striking conversions, 
 
 E K 2
 
 420 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 God be praised, this Easter, and they draw not only upon one's 
 head but upon one's heart. It is veiy delightful but very knocking- 
 up work. I have, moreover, undertaken the workhouse, and I 
 have set to work upon the railroad. I have sent there a young 
 saint as I beUeve him to be, a tailor by trade, and to my astonish- 
 ment I find he has been very well received. All the men have 
 treated him with respect ; two whom he rebuked for swearing, 
 thanked him, and accepted tracts from him. One, a Roman 
 Catholic, began trj^ing to draw him into a discussion, but my young 
 friend said, ' I don't come here to argue, I come to instruct those 
 who wish for instruction.' Surely this speech shows that my lad 
 has been led into great wisdom. He is to get me a congregation 
 by Sunday week, and then you may expect to see some paragraph 
 headed ' Dr. Hook a Field Preacher. 
 
 This week I have had to preach five times ; I have given a lec- 
 ture to 500 Sunday-school teachers ever)' evening ; and this besides 
 my letters, and many sick. In fact, I am fast being done up. I 
 only get 4^ hours' sleep. Yesterday, when I got into the pulpit, I 
 found I had taken up the wrong sermon, so I had to preach ex- 
 tempore. I thus have a sermon, one of three, prepared for to- 
 morrow, and the time which would have been given to that is now 
 devoted in part to you. Besides all this, I have had to write my 
 * Ecclesiastical Biography,' which is a source of great comfort to 
 me, as a little distraction to my thoughts. . . . 
 
 With our increasing family, and with the prospect of decreas- 
 ing means, we are trying to decrease our expenses. We are think- 
 ing of no longer keeping a man. We have long ceased to give 
 dinner parties. In short, except my choir and charities, I really 
 do think that I have grown economical, though Delicia still finds it 
 necessary to scold me. I really do not care for any luxuries even 
 if I did not on principle deny them to myself ; but I do confess 
 that I like to have people to dine with me, and to give a poor man 
 occasionally rather a large tip. It makes him so happy. I re- 
 member how I liked a tip at school ; and especially at Tiverton, 
 when we had not enough to eat, how happy I was when I could go 
 and buy a penny roll ; and so I cannot help thinking how plea- 
 santly an unexpected half-crown must come into a poor man's 
 hands. And I must also confess that when I want a book I cannot 
 help, without much fear of my wife before my eyes, ordering it, and 
 I must also confess that when walking with the children if they 
 want a toy I have a difficulty in saying no, and I also confess that
 
 -1 849 Letters, 1 844-1 849. 421 
 
 I do not like to say no to subscriptions. All very amiable confes- 
 sions on my part, calculated to raise me in your opinion, like the 
 experiences told at a methodistical class-meeting, but all proving 
 that I am not by nature economical, and that my wife is quite right 
 in saying that ' very often there is more religion in refusing than in 
 subscribing.' 
 
 To the Right Hon. U\ E. Glaastone, on the Grant to Ma^nooth 
 College in Ireland. 
 
 April 1845. 
 
 I have read your speech with attention, and I believe that you 
 have come to a right conclusion. If we are to act on the old 
 establishment principle, the State must not make grants to the 
 British and Foreign School Society, etc. on the Protestant side ; 
 but grants have been made to these societies with the consent of 
 all ; therefore, the old establishment principle is given up. And 
 surely for a great political object the new principle, which does not 
 confine the public grants of money to the Established Church, 
 ought to be applied to the Romanists as well as others. All that I 
 would now contend for is, that the Church being placed in a new 
 position, certain rights and privileges pertaining to her, which have 
 been in abeyance through her connexion with the State, should be 
 restored to her — but this is an after-consideration. 
 
 I wish you had spoken sooner. Until I read your speech I was 
 prepared to sign a petition against the Maynooth grant, and others 
 may be in the same predicament. I shall now keep things as quiet 
 as I can in the West Riding, but I am afraid some persons are 
 already committed. There is certainly a feeling on the part of 
 High Churchmen against Sir Robert Peel, as he has spoken so de- 
 cidedly against them. And the inclination will be, on their part, 
 to act in opposition to him. But after what you have said, I believe 
 that he is acting wisely, and nobody can doubt that he is acting 
 honestly, in the JNIaynooth business. 
 
 Yours very truly. 
 
 P.S. — I have written to refuse to sign the anti-Maynooth petition. 
 
 From the Right Hon. IV. E. Gladstone. 
 
 13 Carlton House Terrace : April i6, 1845. 
 lly dear Dr. Hook, — I greatly rejoice in these slippery days to 
 find myself supported by your concurrence in the question of the 
 Maynooth Bill.
 
 42 2 Life of Walt 67' Farqiihar Hook. 1844- 
 
 In my own conscience and reason I am clear. What pains me 
 with regard to it is, that practically much of the religious life of the 
 country is very nearly associated with the word Protestantism, and 
 it is the form under which the public at large hold in great part 
 their idea of State religion. I feel, therefore, sorrowfully convinced 
 that though I have a case in argument, as well as in policy, yet the 
 measure will lower the tone of England with regard to the national 
 religion, and I find my duty compelling me to join in the process 
 that is to have that effect. 
 
 Such is the course of Providential retribution, and the conse- 
 quence of opportunities neglected and abused. With our own 
 hands we are made (not now entirely, l)ut in a degree) to shut the 
 door against their recurrence. 
 
 A new chapter has opened now in the relations of the Church 
 and the State. I am far from professing to see my way to the end 
 of it, but I think it is likely to comprise great social changes. The 
 motion of Mr. Ward may unfold a few pages of it. I remain, my 
 dear Dr. Hook, 
 
 Ever most sincerely yours. 
 
 Fro7ii iJie Bishop of Norivich {Stanley) io Rev. \V. F. Hook. 
 Palace, Norwich : September i8, 1846. 
 
 Reverend and dear Sir, — I scarcely know whether I am justi- 
 fied in taking the liberty of addressing you, but having read and 
 re-read your pamphlet on education, I cannot refrain from e.xpress- 
 ing the interest and satisfaction I have derived from its contents, 
 and offering you my grateful thanks for the manly and open man- 
 her with which you have handled the important subject. To find 
 sentiments which have grown and strengthened with growth, and 
 which I have for years (though unsuccessfully) advocated, now so 
 forcibly, and I trust so effectually, promulgated, is indeed a matter 
 of no small gratification to me, as it must alike be to every true 
 and real friend to the improvement of the people. . . . 
 
 Those who like myself, are pointed to as liberal and therefore 
 suspicious characters may in vain attempt to obtain a hearing, 
 when we venture to whisper even that reforms are necessary, and 
 certain alterations needful ; but a dozen or two honest and fearless 
 ' High Churchmen ' Hke yourself are entitled to the cordial thanks 
 of all who, regardless, comparatively speaking, of minor differences 
 and distinctions, look to questions not connected with the mere 
 exaltation of this church or that church, this or that party, but thoae
 
 -i849 Letters, 1 844-1 849. 423 
 
 of a more enlarged or comprehensive character, invohing the best 
 interests and welfare of the whole community. I remain yours 
 faithfully, 
 
 E. Norwich. 
 
 To tJic Bishop of No7-ii'ich on ihr Education Qitcstioii. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : September 28, 1846. 
 
 My Lord, — I must apologise for not having thanked you sooner 
 for your kind letter. Our confirmation took place on Thursday, 
 and most of my young people received their first communion on 
 Sunday. As your lordship has been a parish priest, you know the 
 tluties which devolve upon a pastor at such a season and absorb 
 his time, thoughts, and prayers. Besides private conferences and 
 lectures, I have preached eleven times in the last five days, thirteen 
 times during the last nine days. I hope that after this explanation 
 you will not think me insensible to the kindness which prompted 
 \ou to write to me. 
 
 I cannot say that the reception of my plan of education has 
 l)een satisfactory. Practical men both in the Church and among 
 the Dissenters are opposed to it. But this is a minor considera- 
 tion ; a plan suggested by a private individual is never worth much, 
 and I am not enamoured of the plan suggested by me. I only say, 
 suggest a better. But I do think that I have more than made out 
 my case. I have fully established it, that the deficiency on the 
 point of education is lamentable ; if we come to quality — which is 
 a very delicate and difficult part of the subject — I do not see how 
 anyone can have a doubt upon the subject. I say that the fact of 
 this deficiency is established by the other fact that the attempts 
 to deny it have entirely failed, as I shall endeavour shortly to show. 
 I cannot help thinking that some modification of the suggested 
 plan may be rendered acceptable to all classes, and I have some- 
 tliing of the sort in my head. 
 
 At the same time I must not permit your lordship to suppose 
 that my principles have approximated to yours on the subject of 
 education. Dissenters have done me more justice than friends on 
 this subject. My whole plan is based on principles the reverse of 
 what are called Liberal. I propose my measure, because I can- 
 not, as a Churchman, have anything to do, religiously speaking, 
 with Dissenters. We must both keep aloof. Keeping aloof, let 
 us ask from the State for a fair field, and I have that confidence in 
 the Church, which 1 regard as a divine institution, that I am con-
 
 424 ^'?/^ ^/ Walter Farq7ihar Hook. 1844- 
 
 lident we shall carry all before us. It is my desire to see the great 
 nias6 of the people under Church education ; but I am sure the 
 Church succeeds best where it is most independent of the State, 
 when she does not rely on exclusive privileges and prerogatives, 
 but goes forth in the strength of the Lord. If we obtain the educa- 
 tion of the people not by exclusive privileges and State support, 
 but by self-sacrifice, increased labour and earnest devotion, we 
 obtain it by means which Dissenters must admit to be legitimate, 
 and if they try to rival us, the public will be the gainers. If I may 
 judge of your lordship's principles by your conduct, I presume that 
 you take the opposite line. You would wish Churchmen and Dis- 
 senters having the same object to act together. / think that this 
 can only be done by a sacrifice of principles on both sides. To all 
 attempts, therefore, of bringing these classes together, whether by 
 Bible Societies, or Education Societies, I am resolutely opposed. 
 I know that / could only do so by a sacrifice of what / consider to 
 be Church principles ; I think that they too must sacrifice some 
 principles, and I am quite certain that any dallying with a prin- 
 ciple for any object whatever must be injurious to the moral 
 character. 
 
 I have always found it best in the extensive parishes in which 
 I have laboured, thus to draw the line. I have said to Dissenters 
 ' we disagree on fundamental principles, a line of distinction must 
 be drawn somewhere, I draw it where the Church draws it, and, as 
 religious persons, we must not seek to act in common. Where 
 religion is not concerned, there let us meet with neighbourly feeling 
 and endeavour to promote the comfort of our fellow-creatures.' 
 Although this is not the course Dissenting polemics desire, it has 
 kept me out of local controversies, and certainly led on my own 
 people to the consideration of what is positive in theology instead 
 of regarding the re 'ative claims of different systems. And it is on 
 the same principle I wish to see the education of the people con- 
 ducted. It is useless to try a religious scheme which will meet the 
 views of all ; let us keep distinct in all that pertains to religion, let 
 us see what we can do to form a union in matters merely secular. 
 We can unite in forming a hospital to give relief to the body — 
 keeping religion distinct, and allowing the attendance of Dissenting 
 ministers as well as of Churchmen — why may we not do the same 
 as to the secular part of education ? I am aware that the answer 
 to this is one which is worthy of consideration, that it is scarcely 
 possible for a secular teacher not to encroach upon the religious
 
 -i849 Letters, 1844-1849. 425 
 
 ground. But the question is whether this be an insuperable diffi- 
 ■culty ? I cannot help thinking it is rather theoretical than prac- 
 tical, that the e\il might exist occasionally, but that it would not 
 be general. 
 
 I am sure that your lordship will pardon the freedom of 
 these remarks. Although we differ in onr principle even so far as 
 education is concerned, yet we have the same object in view, and 
 we agree in thinking that it is a monstrous absurdity to suppose 
 that the present system is sufficient to meet the wants of the 
 country. And I think that the step which your lordship has so 
 kindly taken in doing me the honour of writing to me is an indica- 
 tion that there is a readiness on the part of the Liberals, with whom 
 your lordship has been pleased in your letter to class yourself, to 
 consider the feelings (call them if you will the prejudices, or the 
 absurd crotchets) of those who like myself are regarded as Puseyites, 
 Tractarians, and semi-Papists. The treatment we have received 
 from the Liberals has been anything but really liberal. And yet I 
 hope and believe that as far as kind feeling and charitable judg- 
 ment go, we are not more illiberal than others. For my own part, 
 it has been my happiness (though, as the late Bishop Butler of Lich- 
 field described me, 'an incorrigible Tory') to live on terms of in- 
 timacy with persons of opposite sentiments, that learned Prelate 
 being one ; indeed, the friend with whom I have taken sweet 
 ■counsel for forty years, ever since we were at school together, is a 
 professed and decided Radical. 
 
 I cannot but rejoice in the fact of a bishop having thought 
 kindly of a poor High Churchman, and I shall ever entertain a 
 <leep and grateful sense of your lordship's kindness in writing to me. 
 
 To IV. P. Wood, Esq. — Admission of the yews into Parliament. 
 
 Leeds : December 6, 1847. 
 
 ... I am for admitting the Jew, because the British Empire 
 contains subjects of all creeds and no-creeds, and the whole prin- 
 ciple of the religious test is given up. What is sauce for the goose 
 is sauce for the gander. Yield, or maintain the whole principle, 
 but don't shilly shally about its application. , . . But the objection 
 to a Parliament containing men of all religions legislating for the 
 Church, though it existed before, becomes more apparent than 
 "before to the common mind, when we propose to admit the Jew. 
 J see this feeling in minds in which it is not devcIo|)ed, and this,
 
 426 Life of Walter Farqrihar Hook. 1844- 
 
 which is a real grievance, ought to be met. Now, I think it might 
 be suggested, that in the event of the admission of the Jews, an 
 address to Her Majesty should be adopted, requesting her to issue 
 a commission, to consist of inferior clergy as well as bishops, to 
 ascertain whether some modification of Convocation might not be 
 feasible for the regulation of the internal affairs of the Church. 
 The Convocation in its present form would probably not be ex- 
 pedient. 
 
 What I mean by internal affairs is sucli a matter as the increase 
 of the Episcopate, and 1 would permit even here the interference of 
 Parliament ; e.g. let Convocation or the Synod determine upon the 
 increase of the Episcopate, and the location of bishops in this or 
 that place. But let Parliament decide whether the funds shall be 
 taken from some existing See to endow it, or whether it shall be 
 endowed out of existing Church revenues at all. Suppose for in- 
 stance, that Convocation should decide upon having a bishop at 
 St. Alban's, Parliament might refuse to sanction a Bill brought in 
 for the endowment out of Church funds, but still the See might be 
 formed, and privately endowed. 
 
 Longings for Rest and Rctircnienf — Dialogne between Tivo Old 
 Women. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : December 13, 1847. 
 
 My dear Tragett, ... I am hard-worked and much bullied, 
 and in all manner of difficulties, not knowing how to sustain the 
 various institutions of the place now that trade is so bad ; and my 
 wife says that the only symptom of old age she discovers in me is, 
 that I do not bear up against difficulties as I used to do. Indeed, 
 my longing for rest and retirement is intense. I have worked hard 
 all my life, and I belong to a short-lived family, and I wish now 
 to go into retirement, there to prepare for my latter end. I think 
 I have earned a right to wish this. I find too that I cannot sym- 
 pathise with younger men as I used to do — they all seem to be 
 Romanising ; they view things through different ejcs. 
 
 I was much amused yesterday, by hearing from one of my 
 curates the high esteem in which I am held by some of my poorer 
 parishioners. He heard two old women talking. First old woman : 
 ' I likes to hear Vicar when I be ill.' Second old woman : ' Eh \ 
 and so does I, he talks so like an old woman.' This is another 
 sjanptom of old age.
 
 -i849 Letters, 1844-1849. 427 
 
 To the Right Hon. IV. E. Gladstone. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : February 9, 1848. 
 
 My dear Mr. Gladstone, ... I have to thank you for sending^ 
 me a copy of your speech ; and as, by the course you have taken, 
 you have oftended some of your constituents, I may take this 
 opportunity of saying that my opinion on this subject concurs with 
 yours.' We are more hkely to obtain freedom for the Church 
 when Parliament is professedly what it is now virtually, than 
 we are under the existing state of things. When Parliament 
 ceases to be a Christian Parliament, even in name, it will probably 
 see the propriety of not attempting to legislate for the Christian 
 Church. 
 
 To W. P. M'ood., Esq. — AIteratio)is in tJie Prayer Book — 
 Appointments to Bishopries. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : February ii, 1848. 
 
 I should be hopeless of any measure in which Mr. Horsman 
 and his friends take part. Their object is to dri\'e us from the 
 Church, admitting now that it is only by understanding the Prayer 
 Book in a non-natural sense that they can remain in it. I under- 
 stand that the ' Record ' has been labouring very hard of late in 
 attacking the Prayer Book doctrine of regeneration, evidently with 
 a view to alteration. And this shows the ignorance of what we 
 think the Christian religion — sacramental religion. 
 
 We hold that the Divine object is the reunion of the fallen 
 creature with the Creator. For this purpose God has become man 
 uithout ceasing to be God — the God-man — -the Mediator as such. 
 He has, as God-man formed a Body of which He is the Head ; the 
 mystical Body, the Church, is the medium through which indi- 
 viduals are united to the Head and afterwards preserved in that 
 union, faith and repentance iDeing required on their part. The 
 sacrament^ are the means of uniting us to, and preserving us in 
 union with, the Body, and through the Body with the Head, and 
 tlierefore they are generally necessary to salvation. 
 
 But we hold them only generally necessary, i.e. where they can 
 be had, because we hold the salvability of the heathen ; making a 
 difference between a rescue from perdition, which Christ has effected 
 for all, and the admission to the beatific vision or the highest glory 
 
 ' On the admission of lews to Parliament.
 
 428 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 in heaven reserved for the members of the Church who escape con- 
 demnation at the Day of Judt,nnent. 
 
 This is the religion of the Chin'ch, not of England only but of 
 Rome and Greece, whatever their corruptions may be. 
 
 And to this religion all sects of the Puritan school are entirely 
 opposed. By admitting it they would cease to be what they are. 
 And these persons, whatever they may say^ when they propose 
 alteration in the Prayer Book, mean, in fact, an alteration in our 
 religion — such an alteration as would compel us either to obtain a 
 succession from America to continue the Prayer Book as it is, or to 
 go to Rome. The former couise will be mine if we are driven to 
 extremities. . . . 
 
 The commission under William III. to recommend fit persons 
 to Government for bishoprics was appointed, I think, on Mary's 
 death, because he was a Presbyterian. . . . We want, in fact, as 
 much support from a commission now as then. It was not till 
 Walpole's time that the Prime Minister interfered. We are better 
 off, I think, nevertheless, in having the appointment with the 
 Minister than with the Sovereign, because the Minister changes, 
 whereas, if the Sovereign becomes fanatical in his hatred of Church 
 principles his appointments would be permanently bad. . . . Lord 
 John got himself into a scrape by avowing his determination to act 
 upon a new principle which has been forced, in the natural course 
 ■of events, upon Government. From Walpole's time to the Reform 
 Bill bishoprics were given to purchase Parliamentary support. 
 But Parliamentary support can no longer be purchased in this way. 
 And now the Minister begins to think of meritorious men ; but in 
 looking out for merit he consults his own feelings ; he is a Latitu- 
 dinarian and looks out for Latitudinarians. The only question is, 
 since a new principle must be acted upon, whether we are to depend 
 upon the caprice of an individual, or upon some responsible body. 
 When the Minister says, ' I shall appoint in order to propagate 
 certain religious principles,' we all feel that he is stepping out of 
 his line ; he is not the proper judge of the religion of the Church. 
 When he said, ' I shall appoint to uphold certain political princi- 
 ples,' then his sufficiency to decide was admitted. It is by chang- 
 ing his ground and by declaring that he will look out for men who 
 are, e.g., Arnoldians that he places himself in a wrong position. 
 We have a right now to ask for such a Minister as understands 
 •ecclesiastical affairs or else for an ecclesiastical body to advise 
 -him.
 
 -i849 Letters, 1 844-1 849. 429 
 
 Nezumaii on Justification. 
 
 April 24, 1848. 
 
 My dear Captain Moorsom, — ^I would advise you not to read 
 Newman on Justification ; it will only perplex you upon an im- 
 portant subject. It is a powerful work, but a work to be read not 
 by those who are seeking information, but by those who are 
 acquainted with the subject. 
 
 On the subject of justification the Church of England and the 
 Church of Rome stand in direct contrast. There are two theories 
 on the subject : — 
 
 r. The Protestant theory", which is that of the Church of Eng- 
 land, «S:c., that when we are sincerely endeavouring through grace 
 to serve God, God is pleased to account us righteous, so that we 
 may approach Him in prayer, the sacraments, >S:c., as if we wei'e 
 actually, what in this world we can never become, righteous per- 
 sons. The righteousness of sanctification, though a real righteous- 
 ness as far as it goes, is always imperfect, and therefore we always 
 appear before God with the righteousness of Christ imputed to us. 
 
 2. The Romish theorj', i.e. that by the Holy Spirit we may 
 become entirely righteous, and that by this righteousness, given by 
 the Holy Spirit, we can stand as righteous persons before God; 
 others are justified according to their progress in righteousness, 
 justification in Romish theology admitting by degrees 
 
 The first is called the doctrine of Justification by Faith. The 
 second the doctrine of Justification by Inherent Righteousness. 
 
 Our Romanising young men repudiate the doctrine of Justifica- 
 tion by Faith because they think it not reconcilable with sacra- 
 mental religion. But who was a greater supporter of sacramental 
 religion than Hooker, and where can we find a stronger advocate 
 for the Protestant view of Justification by Faith? 
 
 The Romish doctrine is at the bottom of Romish idolatry. If 
 a man can be justified, on their scheme he can become perfectly 
 righteous ; if he is perfectly righteous, and remains on earth, he 
 can of course do more than is required, have supererogatory merits 
 and plead them in favour of others when interceding for them both 
 here and hereafter. 
 
 We make a broad distinction between justification and sanctifi- 
 cation \ with Romanists they are the same thing. 
 
 Now, Newman's object was to confound the two, and to show 
 that the difference between moderate Church of England Pro-
 
 430 Zz/^ of Walter Farqjihar Hook. 1844- 
 
 testants and moderate Romanists is only verbal. If you desire to 
 see how by clever pleading this can be done, then you will read 
 Newman. But I apprehend what you want is a statement merely 
 of the truth as received in the Church of England. It was in this 
 work that Newman brought out the notion that Protestant stands 
 opposed to Catholic, which every theological puppy has since 
 adopted ; whereas Protestant stands opposed to Popery. We are 
 both Protestant and Catholic. 
 
 I would advise you to read lleurtley on Justification (his 
 Bampton Lectures) and his sermons on union with Christ ; then 
 Bethel on Regeneration ; then Jelf on the Eucharist (his Bampton 
 Lectures). 
 
 To IV. P. Wood., Esq. — Goi'ennnenf Proposal fo divide Large 
 J'arishes. ' 
 
 Leeds : February 26, 1849. 
 
 If it be only intended to bring in a Bill to facilitate the division 
 of parishes it will be good and useful. But as I read it, it is in- 
 tended to compel parochial divisions. It is a French, not an 
 English mode of action. The French adopt a theory and carry it 
 out, though it cause confusion and ruin. The English look to prac- 
 tical grievances and supply a remedy. An Act to enable us to 
 supply a remedy where the extent of the parish is through circum- 
 stances a grievance, would, as I have said, be a useful and an English 
 mode of proceeding. But I have no notion that it is expedient to 
 divide all parishes in the manner proposed. 
 
 I brought in a Bill (worse luck I) for the division of this parish, 
 but why ? The old system, if it could have been sustained, would 
 have been the best. Here was a vicar, de facto the ('nlaKOTros, with 
 his twenty or thirty clergy. The best reform would have been to 
 have consecrated him to perform episcopal acts. Thirty years ago 
 at the great festivals the whole parish met at the parish church. 
 There were two thousand communicants, and twenty clergymen 
 officiating. Old people speak of it as a glorious sight. The late 
 Archbishop told me that he regarded the vicars of the great parishes 
 as chorcpiscopi and acted through them. 
 
 This system, whether wisely or not, the Bishop of Ripon has 
 overthrown wherever he could. New churches under Peel's Act 
 
 1 A motion had been made by Lord Ashley for a Royal Commission to 
 inquire into the best means of dividing populous parishes. Dr. Hook was 
 appointed a Member of the Commission in March of this year.
 
 -i849 Letters, 1 844-1 849. 431 
 
 arose, being new parishes. And such being the case, the thirty old 
 chapels of this parish were placed in an inferior position to these 
 new churches, which was most unfair. Hence my Leeds Vicarage 
 Act. I had not the choice between a general division and the old 
 system, but, the old system being worn out, my choice was between 
 a general di\ision and a partial division on no principle whatever. 
 My plan has been unpopular with laity and clergy, but the clergy 
 of the old chapels are now begimiing to see the value of it to them 
 and are stirring. It is, however, ver)' slowly, and I cannot be 
 quoted as having succeeded, though I sliall succeed. . . . 
 
 My living, again, is a good one and can bear reducing. But 
 take a living like that of Bradford, where the vicar has 500/. a year, 
 and divide that 500/. among the twenty or thirty parishes which must 
 be formed there, what do you gain ? All the clergy lose that sup- 
 port to their character which the vicar, if in respectable circum- 
 stances, lends to them. And in the next generation, though you 
 will not have worldly men from the middle classes taking holy 
 orders in the hope of obtaining a living of 500/. a year, you will 
 liave what is worse, worldly men of the lower classes taking orders 
 for the chance of a living of 50/. 
 
 I just wish to suggest to you the difficulties which a sweeping 
 measure offers to my mind. I am for a movement. I am a 
 Church reformer, but I do not like to remove land-marks merely to 
 make the field look better. I would only remove them when, and 
 in such measure as, the expediency of removing them may be 
 proved. 
 
 To W. P. J Foot/, Esq. — On Division of Parishes. 
 
 \'icarage, Leeds : February 28, 1849. 
 My dearest friend, — I entirely agree with you in what you 
 say about having churches of different doctrines in large towns. I 
 should say, let them be in small towns also. In Morpeth, Francis 
 Grey, with his family determination, has determined to have choral 
 service ; and when there was one church a tempest began to growl 
 around him. When there were two I advised him to have plain 
 service in one and choral service in the other, and now people see 
 that they have no right to complain. Here in Leeds 1 have suc- 
 ceeded in conducting things according to my own judgment, 
 because 1 could always say, 'I do no wrong, because if you do not 
 like my sayings and doings you can go elsewhere.' Even St. 
 Saviours is an advantage to mc by taking off the superstitious.
 
 432 Life of Walter Far qiihar Hook. 1844- 
 
 It has eased me considerably in this way. My quarrel with St. 
 Saviour's is that they tell people that their views and mine are the 
 same. For instance, when they set up a confessional they said 
 they only carried out my principle. Hejice my obligation to print. 
 
 When first I came to Leeds I aimed at unity of doctrine. I 
 soon found this to be impracticable. There arc two parties in the 
 Church, who, from their different views of baptism differ on almost 
 ever)' point of doctrine ; and it is absurd to say, because this ought 
 not to be, that it is not. The practicable thing is to obtain unity 
 of action. This, of late years, I have aimed at, and if I live a few 
 years longer you will find the clergy of Leeds acting as one man 
 against infidelity. We are nearly united in action now ; we meet 
 once a month, and there is a tacit understanding that nothing shall 
 be proposed that would compromise any side. At present the 
 rump of the Evangelical party, which I found here, having de- 
 generated into Arnoldism, is seeking to support itself by Rational- 
 istic principles. But while trying to keep the clergy apart they 
 fail. There is a tendency to coalesce. 
 
 This is a digression — but something to the point. If you pro- 
 pound in your speech the principle of unity of action and toleration 
 of differences, you may do good. N.B. In the Church, among the 
 clergy as well as the laity, there is the large portion leaning now to 
 one side then to the other ; as either the one or the other seems 
 to be actings they look to practice. It is so in politics— the bulk of 
 the people are neither Whigs nor Tories, but sometimes of one 
 party and sometimes of the other, as either party seems best quali- 
 fied to meet existing difficulties. I am one of these. The noise is 
 made by strong partisans, but the strength of a partisan lies in his 
 ability to persuade those who are, though not professedly, yet, in 
 fact, of no party. . . . 
 
 While I am for the division of parishes, i.e. what you call a re- 
 form, I am not for one rule to be observed in all parishes, but simply 
 for affording facilities to divide according to local circumstances. 
 
 Assuredly the present measure should be accompanied with a 
 measure to increase the number of Bishops. The lower clergy are 
 chiefiy protected against the despotism of Bishops (growing exces- 
 sively through Acts of Parliament) by the fact of there being 
 wealthy and powerful Presbyters who would dare to confront the 
 Bishops. I am for lowering the wealth of Presbyters, but not 
 without decreasing the despotism by increasing the number of 
 Bishops and doing away with their grandeeism.
 
 -i849 Letters, 1 844-1 849. 433 
 
 To the Ho?t. and Rev. Ffancis Grey. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : March 22, 1849. 
 With respect to your infidel underminers rather than assailants, 
 I believe the course you are pursuing is the right course. Bishop 
 Jebb, my Gamaliel, used to tell me not directly to oppose error, 
 but to exhibit the beauty of the opposite virtue ; not e.g. to preach 
 against infidelity, but to bring prominently forwards the loveliness 
 of the Gospel. Having unfortunately an impetuous disposition, I 
 have not always been able to act upon this advice, but my own 
 experience has so fully convinced me of its wisdom that now that I 
 am, like my dear spiritual father, Bishop Jebb, going off the scene, 
 I feel inclined to urge it upon younger men, and I trust also to act 
 upon it more consistently myself The relapsed communicant is a 
 sad case, it is unfortunately not an uncommon one ; a little discre- 
 tion is required to find out the niollia tenipora in which to approach 
 the stray sheep. My own plan is, to keep my eye upon a straggler,, 
 but to make little change in my manner to him, so as to give him 
 an opportunity of speaking to me in the first instance himself. 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. — On his being made Vice-CJiancellor of the 
 Duchy of Lancastc}'. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : May 8, 1849. 
 
 My dearest Mr. Vice-Chancellor,— I am quite delighted. Capi- 
 tal as a beginning ! I am so proud. For fifty, or nearly, years, I 
 have considered you the facile princeps of your generation, in all 
 respects ; I have been angry with mankind in general for not dis- 
 covering the jewel they possess. 
 
 I am glad that there is a salary, because you will be able ta 
 afford to pay a writing master in vacation — your writing being the 
 only thing in which you deteriorate ; bad is becoming worse. N.B. 
 No tit quoques. I really feel just as I used to do when you had got 
 the books at Winchester. All in tears, nice tears. 
 
 God bless you, my dear, dear friend, and make you useful in 
 your generation, and enable you so to pass through things temporal 
 as finally not to lose the things eternal. 
 
 To W. P. Wood., Esq. — The Irish Church. 
 
 Bournemouth, near Poole : June 12, 1849. 
 I cannot say that I agree with you as to your statements or 
 F F
 
 434 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 your arguments, though I am quite ready to tinker the Irish 
 Church. I disagree with you as to your adoption of Paley's notion 
 of a national Church being the Church of the majority. But if you 
 admit that, then Pitt's answer is a vaHd one. When the kingdoms 
 were united, the Churches were united (in my opinion a great 
 mistake), and they were united, why ? To meet Paley's definition 
 of a national Church, if England and Ireland are one kingdom, 
 and the Church one Church, then though the national Church be 
 that of the minority in Ireland, it is nevertheless the Church of the 
 majority in the United Kingdom. I think this a sufficient answer 
 to the argument you have adopted. . . . 
 
 Then, though there was much that was unjustifiable in the 
 reformation of Ireland, as in all reformations, civil and ecclesiastical, 
 still there was only one bishop in the Church of Ireland who refused 
 to reform. 
 
 The whole subject is given admirably and impartially in Dr. 
 Phelan — the second volume of Phelan's Remains, published by 
 Bishop Jebb, which everyone ought to read who wishes to know 
 anything of the Irish Church. Authorities are also indicated in a 
 sermon of the celebrated Dr. Hook, entitled ' The Catholic Clergy 
 of Ireland, their Claims asserted.' A dry statement of facts can be 
 obtained from Dr. Mant's ' History of the Irish Church.' I am 
 son-y that you missed a good opportunity of making clear the dis- 
 tinction between the Church and the Establishment, the Establish- 
 inent being in fact a mere chimera. 
 
 Let the State take away whatever the State has given, nothing 
 more, and we shall be content. 
 
 My own opinion is, that the only ground you can take is this : 
 that the State, giving us our right (as individuals or as corporations) 
 in our property, has a right under certain circumstances, for the 
 public good, either to take it away in part or to make us come to a 
 compromise. Thus for a public good you compel me to part with 
 a portion of my estate to form a railroad which I think to be a 
 nuisance. As the case now stands, there seems to be no grievance, 
 for the Papists assert that our property they do not want, and will not 
 accept. I believe that for the good of Ireland we should compel the 
 Romish hierarchy to accept an endowment, on certain terms. Till 
 this is done, Ireland must remain degraded and impoverished. 
 Once establish this point, then comes the question, where is the 
 endowment to come from .'' Then, for the good of the public, I 
 would say, compel the Irish Church to yield a portion of her funds.
 
 -i849 Letters, 1 844-1 849. 435 
 
 To Lady Harewood- — Contenttnent. 
 
 Birch Cottage, near Manchester : August 31, 1849. 
 I am Starting for dear old smoky Leeds this day. I am longing 
 to be at work again and am full of new plans and good resolutions. 
 My absence has been long but necessary. Since my illness I have 
 been easily excited by my duties and especially by preaching, and 
 so have been easily knocked up. What my doctors required was 
 rest for the nerves. I hope now for grace to dedicate myself with 
 fresh vigour and a grateful heart to my Master's work, though I 
 feel that between fifty and sixty years of age I might accept if I 
 could obtain it a less laborious post where in a contemplative life 
 I might prepare for the great end. Nevertheless, I am quite con- 
 tented ; for happiness consists in doing with all our might, not 
 what we best like, but what our hand findeth to do, the work 
 allotted to us by Providence. 
 
 To the Lady Elizabeth Grey — The Cholera iit Leeds. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : September 17, 1849. 
 
 Dear Lady Elizabeth, . . . We have the cholera here very bad 
 indeed. On Wednesday we are to have a parochial fast by 
 direction of the Bishop ; the Mayor has persuaded the Dissenters 
 also to observe it, and has suggested that the shops should be 
 closed. I hope and think it will be well kept, and I pray that I 
 may be able to speak home to the hearts of some who may be at 
 church then, but who seldom come at other times. I have the care 
 of the two cholera hospitals, where I have thirteen very bad cases 
 to attend. I feel like a soldier in the field of battle, not knowing 
 for whom the shots are intended. I have taken the chief post of 
 danger, because I am the chief clergyman in the parish, and also 
 to punish myself for my cowardice, for I confess that as regards the 
 natural man I am a little frightened \ but I have full trust in God. 
 I feel the post of danger to be the post of honour. I am sure He 
 will take me, or spare me, as it seemeth best ; and that if He takes 
 me He will provide for my children and my wife. Thank you 
 much for your prayers. 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. — Fast-day in Leeds oji accoioit of the 
 Cholera. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : September 19, 1849. 
 This is our Fast-day. It has been most wonderfully kept so
 
 43 6 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1844- 
 
 far. Every shop closed ; and at least four thousand persons in one 
 church, which was as full as on the day of consecration, all behav- 
 ing devoutly. I read the Commination Service. Five hundred 
 remained to communicate, as, at the request of the Mayor, I had a 
 communion. I had prepared my mob sermon for the evening, but 
 I extemporised a good deal and I hope I stirred up some con- 
 sciences. The cholera is rather better, but the diarrhoea is worse. 
 I have desperate cases in the hospitals, and am a terrible coward ; 
 it is because of my cowardice that I have plunged in medias res 
 and have taken the post of danger, the natural man and the 
 spiritual man are fighting hard within, but the former shall in this 
 instance be crucified. 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. — Marriage ivith a Deceased Wif^s sister. 
 
 Leeds : October 1849. 
 It would be an act of tyranny to compel the clergy to marry where 
 the canons of the Church, and as far as / can see, the Scriptures 
 themselves, forbid the marriage. I think that all the arguments are 
 against the expediency of such marriages. Still there is nothing of 
 blood concerned, the relationship is only from alliance : the marriage 
 is not strictly speaking incestuous, though commonly so reputed. If 
 then such marriages will take place, it is hard for the poor children to 
 be bastardised. I am inclined therefore to let the civil registrar marry 
 such parties : leaving a kind of stigma upon the parents, who could 
 not receive the nuptial benediction, but saving the offspring. It is 
 a pity the old custom was interfered with ; such marriages used to be 
 voidable, but not void ; the parties marrying were under a cloud, but 
 the children escaped. One great difficulty is to know where you 
 are to stop if you concede the measure. May a man marry his step- 
 mother? There is no blood relationship there. The only answer 
 is that public feeling revolts aganist it. 
 
 To Lady . 
 
 Leeds : December 8, 1849. 
 ... I shall enter upon the work which you assign to me with 
 faith, being at the same time conscious of my own unfitness for the 
 task. I never was a tutor at Oxford, and therefore have had no 
 experience in the management of young men of rank. Being of a 
 plebeian family, I did not fall in with them, in my early life, and 
 my piotessional duties have lain among the middle and poorest
 
 -i849 Letters, 1844— 1849. 437 
 
 classes. I can generally guess how a tradesman will think, and 
 how a poor man will feel, but I have never had any sympathies 
 with young men of fashion. 
 
 Nevertheless, our Heavenly Father would not have put it into 
 your mind to ask me to take this office unless he intended me to do 
 some good, though it may not at once be visible. Is your son read 
 
 to 1 If so I can undertake the office when I am at . A light book 
 
 will do ; for it is easy to lead on to serious talk from any book. We 
 should also be left alone. I have come to the conclusion that no 
 two persons can talk properly together in the presence of a third 
 person. 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. — Correspondence with Editor of the'- Record.^ 
 
 December 1849. 
 
 What do you think of my being in correspondence with R 
 
 C ! The 'Record' itself! He wrote to me a 'Dear Sir 
 
 letter, asking me to sign a petition against establishing with Rome 
 diplomatic relations.^ I declined for reasons I stated, namely, 
 that I think the distinction between the civil and ecclesiastical 
 functions is by the late Resolutions sufficiently marked. He 
 had expressed a hope that on this point all parties in the Church 
 might co-operate. I answered that I desired to see such co- 
 operation, but I feared it could not take place, while one extreme 
 was contending for the Articles without the Prayer Book, the other 
 for the Prayer Book without the Articles — one for Protestantism 
 without Catholicism, the other for Catholicism without Protestant- 
 ism ; that we must come back to Hooker, who was Protestant as 
 to the doctrine of Justification, Catholic as to the Sacraments, 
 Popish in nothing. 
 
 * Which were opened soon after the accession of Pope Pius IX.
 
 43 S Life of Walter Farguha?' Hook. 1850- 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE LAST NINE YEARS AT LEEDS. 
 A.D. 1850-1859. 
 
 The year 1S50 may be considered as marking an epoch in the 
 history of the Church of England. The difference between her 
 condition then, and her condition at the beginning of the cen- 
 tury, was as great as the difference between the seasons of spring 
 or early summer, and of winter. She was now abundantly 
 fruitful in good works of every description. In all parts of the 
 country, old churches were being repaired ; new churches and 
 new schools were being built ; fresh life was pervading every 
 department of parochial work ; and was visible alike in multiplied 
 services, and more frequent celebrations of Holy Communion ; 
 in the due observance of Holy Seasons, and Holy Days ; in 
 increased attention to Church music, and a decent and devout 
 ceremonial ; in the formation of guilds, sisterhoods, and all kinds 
 of charitable associations. And while straining every nerve to 
 do her work at home, and to keep pace with the rapid growth 
 of the population, the Church had not been unmindful of her 
 duty in foreign parts. By the combined efforts of the Propaga- 
 tion and Church Missionary Societies, aided by private munifi- 
 cence, the colonial bishoprics, which in 1830 were only five in 
 number, had been increased to more than twent3\ 
 
 This resuscitation of activity and zeal must be attributed to 
 two main forces : first, the energy of individuals belonging for 
 the most part to the old High Church party. Foremost among 
 them must be placed the Vicar of Leeds, and Bishop Longley
 
 -i8s9 State of the Chicrch. 439 
 
 in the north of England, Archbishop Howley, and Bishop 
 Blomfield in the south. And to these must be added, at the 
 date which we have now reached, Samuel Wilberforce, Bishop 
 of Oxford. 
 
 And the second great impulse to the activity of the Church 
 is to be found in the Tractarian movement. The influence of 
 individuals, however zealous and able, was more or less limited 
 to the sphere within which they were specially called to labour. 
 But the effect of the Tractarian school was that of a spirit or 
 power which permeated the whole country. Partly by their 
 writings, partly by their personal influence, the originators of 
 that school succeeded in kindling a large amount of public in- 
 terest in the Church, her history, her doctrines, and her duties ; 
 and they raised up a whole body of men, not only amongst the 
 clergy, but the laity also, full of devotion to the Church, and 
 the great Head of the Church, and eager to put into practice 
 the principles which they had learned. 
 
 But times of zeal are also times of strife. In former ages, a 
 zealous Church was prone to persecution, in modern times it is 
 addicted to litigation. It has been the misfortune of the 
 Church of England for the last five-and-twenty years, that one 
 question after another has become the subject of dispute in 
 courts of law, and that often a vast deal of mental power has 
 been wasted, and tempests of agitation excited out of all pro- 
 portion to the intrinsic importance of the matter to be decided. 
 
 The celebrated case which heads the melancholy list of legal 
 causes that fill the annals of our Church during the past quarter 
 of a century is an example of this. The Gorham case was no 
 doubt one of interest and importance, but it was not that critical 
 struggle which most of the combatants on either side believed 
 it at the time to be. The Vicar of Leeds was one of the few 
 who seem to have been able to gauge the real import of the 
 contest and to foresee the extent of its effects. 
 
 Those whose memory can reach "back to the event, will 
 hardly need to be reminded of the circumstances, which they 
 will i)robably remember but too clearly ; for those who are not 
 acquainted with them a brief and succinct statement will suffice.
 
 440 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 The Rev. George Cornelius Gorham had been presented in 
 1847 ^y the Lord Chancellor to the living of Bramford Speke 
 in the Diocese of Exeter, and api)lied to the Bishop for institu- 
 tion. The Bishop (Dr. Phillpotts) suspecting him of unsound 
 views on the subject of baptism, subjected him to a long and 
 minute examination extending to 149 questions, and lasting 
 over eight days, in the months of December and the following 
 March. At the conclusion of the examination he refused to 
 give Mr. Gorham institution, on the ground of his holding views 
 at variance with the teaching of the Church, more especially as 
 expressed in the Baptismal Services, respecting the regeneration 
 of infants in the Sacrament of Baptism. The matter was 
 carried before the Court of Arches, and after a wearisome and 
 painful discussion, the judge. Sir H. J. Fust, decided in favour 
 of the Bishop. An appeal from his judgment was then laid 
 before the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council, where the 
 question was argued at great length. The case was exceedingly 
 complicated by the omission of any explicit statement on the 
 part of the Bishop of the precise points wherein he considered 
 Mr. Gorham unsound on the subject of Baptism ; and also by 
 the omission on both sides of any direct definition of the mean- 
 ing which they attached respectively to the term 'regeneration.' 
 The only evidence which the judges had to rely upon was the 
 record of the examination of Mr. Gorham before the Bishop. 
 In giving judgment, they disclaimed 'any jurisdiction or 
 authority to settle matters of faith or to determine what ought 
 in any particular to be the doctrine of the Church of England.' 
 They declared that the only question which they could attempt 
 to decide was whether Mr. Gorham 's doctrine was repugnant or 
 contrary to the doctrine of the Church of England as by law 
 established^ taking the Liturgy and the Articles as the tests of 
 that doctrine, but more especially the Articles, and where the 
 Articles were doubtful and ambiguous, allowing any sense of 
 which the words taken literally and grammatically would admit. 
 Proceeding on this principle, a majority of the judges decided 
 that Mr. Gorham 's doctrine was not contradictory or fatally 
 repugnant to the doctrine of the Church of England as by law
 
 -1 859 The Gorhant Case. 441 
 
 established, and consequently did not afford a legal ground for 
 refusing him institution to the living. The dissentients from 
 the judgment were Sir J. L. Knight Bruce and Dr. Blomfield, 
 Bishop of London.' 
 
 The decision of the Committee had been watched for by 
 both the extreme parties in the Church with impatient eagerness, 
 and by the public generally with no small degree of interest. 
 The result was an immense relief to the Evangelicals, who for 
 the most part held views very similar to those which were 
 advanced by Mr. Gorham. 
 
 On the other hand, a considerable number of High Church- 
 men were of opinion that the claims of our Church to be a pure 
 branch of tl'.e Church Catholic were very fatally compromised 
 by this decision. Unsound teaching on the subject of Baptism, 
 they said, had hitherto been only connived at ; it was now for 
 the first time definitely sanctioned by a public tribunal. In the 
 abeyance of all legislative functions on the part of the Church, 
 the authority which she claimed in controversies of faith was 
 transferred to that judicial body which interpreted the meaning 
 of her laws. And the major part of the judges who composed 
 the highest Court of Appeal were laymen for whose orthodoxy, 
 nay more, for whose belief in the Christian religion, there was 
 no guarantee. The purity and integrity of the Church's faith 
 lay at the mercy of this tribunal. They were already violated 
 by the judgment given in the present instance ; there was no 
 security that they might not be continually violated in like 
 manner ; and it was idle and delusive to maintain that the 
 formularies remained unchanged, when their meaning was 
 altered, for the force and value of a formulary depended wholly 
 upon the meaning which was attached to it. The position 
 therefore of the Church of England was at stake. Unless the 
 recent decision of the Privy Council was superseded by some 
 other public act, legislative or judicial, the Church would forfeit 
 her claims to Catholicity and subside into a mere department of 
 
 1 The other members of the Judicial Committee were Lord Langdale, Lord 
 Campbell, Sir James Parke, Dr. Liishington, Mr. Pembcrton Leigh, the Arch- 
 bishops of Canterbury (Sumner) and of York (Musgrave).
 
 442 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 the Secular Government. And not a few, seeing no prospect of 
 escape from this humiliating and ignominious result, and having 
 been long dissatisfied with the position of the Anglican Church, 
 began to secede or meditate secession to the Church of 
 Rome. 
 
 But there was a far larger number of more moderate and 
 discerning men who did not contemplate the effects of the 
 judgment with equal alarm. They dissented, indeed, utterly 
 from the judgment, considered from a theological point 
 of view, and thought that efforts should be made to effect a 
 reform in the constitution of the Court of Appeal ; but they did 
 not think that the faith of the Church would be vitally impaired 
 or her position fatally compromised, because the Court in the 
 present instance had gone out of its way to enter into theological 
 arguments, and had fallen into theological error. 
 
 This was the line followed by the Vicar of Leeds, and 
 advocated in a published letter addressed to Sir Walter Farquhar, 
 in which he states his reasons for refusing to sign a list of 
 resolutions embodying the views of the more extreme party. 
 He expresses astonishment and regret that any persons should 
 be so much disconcerted by the recent judgment as to con- 
 template the monstrous alternative of secession to Rome. 
 'Such persons,' he said, ' look with a magnifying-glass on every 
 gnat which annoys them in the Church of England, and shut 
 their eyes to the multitude of camels they will have to swallow 
 if they join the Church of Rome.' And after enumerating 
 these ' camels ' in a long and formidable list, he says, ' it does 
 seem to me the very height of inconsistency for any man to 
 express feelings of alarm about the Catholicity of the Church of 
 England, because the Queen in Council will not permit Mr. 
 Gorham to be deprived of a living, and to assume without 
 questioning the Catholicity of the Church of Rome.' 
 
 What was the amount of the injury complained of? The 
 doctrine of the Primitive Church and of the Church of England 
 on the subject of Baptism, stated in the briefest possible terms, 
 was that persons admitted to that Sacrament were elected 
 absolutely to grace, conditioually to glory. The point in dispute
 
 -1859 The Gov ham Case. 443 
 
 was whether persons who evaded this doctrine by putting a 
 forced construction upon those formularies of the Church 
 which related to it, might hold preferment in the Church of 
 England. It was notorious that they had done so for the last 
 300 years, and the Queen in Council had now been pleased to 
 rule that this their liberty should not be abridged. Meanwhile, 
 High Churchmen who understood the formularies in their 
 plain, literal, and obvious meaning were in no way molested or 
 censured, but might continue to hold and to teach the or- 
 thodox doctrine as freely as before. 
 
 On the other hand, he considered that the Council had 
 erred in entering too much into theological argument, had 
 seriously misconceived doctrines and misquoted authorities. 
 This, he thought, constituted a valid reason for seeking 
 relief from the anomaly of a Court so constituted that none 
 of those who were appointed to advise Her Majesty need be 
 Churchmen, or even Christians. ' I would deprecate,' he adds, 
 'intemperate expression against the Royal Supremacy, but I 
 think we have a right to take precautions against its being 
 exerted in a reckless and arbitrary manner. 
 
 Animated by a similar conviction, the Bishop of London 
 introduced a Bill into the House of Lords for transferring the 
 powers of the Judicial Committee in ecclesiastical causes to the 
 Upper House of Convocation. He moved the second reading 
 on June 3, 1850, in a long and very powerful speech, which was- 
 followed by a vigorous debate. The second reading, however, 
 was rejected by 84 to 51, and the constitution of the final 
 Court of Appeal has continued to be an irritating question 
 from that time to this. The only practical results of the 
 Gorham agitation were the revival of the deliberative functions 
 of Convocation through the exertions of the Bishop of Oxford, 
 and a more prevailing belief in baptismal regeneration. 
 
 Letters to private friends about the Gorham case reveal other 
 reasons besides those indicated in his published letter, why 
 the Vicar of Leeds viewed the judgment with comparative 
 indifference. One was, his increasing distrust of the extreme 
 section of the High Church party, and his belief that they
 
 444 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 willingly exaggerated the difficulties of their position in order 
 io palliate secession to Rome. Another was a profound 
 -conviction that great truths which had been held and taught in 
 the Church from the days of the Apostles could not be over- 
 thrown or even seriously impaired by the decision of a few 
 fallible judges in a court of law. Good and loyal Churchmen 
 would continue to hold and teach these truths all the same, and 
 truth would ultimately prevail. Further, his mind was so 
 deeply absorbed at this time by the pressing need of educating 
 and evangelising the people ; the spectacle of dense masses sunk 
 in barbarous ignorance and abandoned to degrading vice was to 
 him so frightful, that most other questions seemed insignificant 
 compared with the question how the Church should grapple 
 with these tremendous evils. 
 
 To W. P. Wood, Esq. 
 
 March 12, 1850. 
 
 I am glad that you take the same view as I have done of the 
 iGorham decision. I should have been entirely on their side if they 
 liad not theohgtsed ; this it is that makes a remonstrance necessary. 
 
 The case is this : A patron presents a clerk to a bishop for in- 
 stitution. The bishop wrongs the patron by refusing. The patron 
 seeks redress. The bishop defends himself by stating that the 
 clerk does not understand the Baptismal Offices in his sense. 
 
 The judgment might fairly be, the clerk understands the offices 
 'in that sense in which they have been understood for the last three 
 hundred years, by a large body of clergymen. It is too late now 
 to fix a definite meaning and so to narrow the Church. Therefore 
 let the clerk be instituted. But the judgment argues the point and 
 assumes that there is quite as much to be said on one side as on 
 the other, or even more. Now the very appearance of this is a 
 wrong to the orthodox. 
 
 I feel these things less than I did : perhaps it is the effect of 
 old age. I sometimes think to myself that it is a sign (oh that it 
 may be !) of what the old writers call ' graciousness ' — that my soul 
 is more gracious. . . . 
 
 But look at facts, you have no idea of the barbarism and 
 brutality of the manufacturing poor. I cannot put on paper, but I 
 -will tell you when I meet, some of the atrocious instances of im-
 
 -i8s9 Letters on Gorham Case. 445 
 
 morality which are common in the mills. If we do not purify the- 
 mill system, if we do not civilise the people, I know not what is to- 
 become of us. 
 
 The Church cannot get at the people in sufficient force under. 
 the existing system. 
 
 Let the Church fairly compete with the sects, while the Govern- 
 ment gives a secular education, and we shall soon have all our own 
 way. Do not for a mere notion oppose a great good. The Church- 
 is actually giving now an irreligious education. People send 
 children to our schools for the sake of the secular education we 
 give. In order to keep the schools up to the mark, the chief force 
 is brought to bear on the secular department ; the dogmas of 
 religion are enforced by many who do not realise their truth ; and 
 of the majority of our masters and mistresses, who only take the- 
 office for a livelihood, all we can say is that they are semi-religious.. 
 And depend upon it a semi-religious person does more harm than, 
 good. 
 
 Pitseyisni — The Gofhaj/i Case. 
 
 Leeds : April 22, 1850. 
 
 My dear Lady Harewood, — I am extremely obliged to you for 
 your kindness in writing to me, and your communication has given 
 me real pleasure. One wishes to love the Queen, and everything, 
 that proves her to be worthy of our love is of value. I am a regular 
 John Bull, and I sing ' God save the Queen' and ' Rule Britannia' 
 with my whole heart, though it is part of my privilege as an- 
 Englishman to grumble sometimes at Her Majesty's proceedings, 
 and, while I permit no one else to find fault with old England, to 
 indulge myself in an occasional growl. 
 
 I suppose that you have by this time received a copy of my 
 letter upon the Gorham case. It is my full conviction that certain 
 parties in hatred of the Church of England purposely exaggerate 
 the difficulties of our position, in order to make men more ready 
 to go over with them to Rome. 
 
 It has long been my object to show that, without defending the 
 decision of the Privy Council, our position as a Church is not 
 damaged. 
 
 I shall be abused on all sides. The Evangelicals will abuse me 
 for holding Baptismal Regeneration ; the Puseyites because I 
 defend the Church of England ; and the Ministerialists because \ 
 attack the conduct of the Privy Council.
 
 44^ Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 But the great majority of the Churchmen of England think as 
 I do. Tlie Puseyites are a very small body. The field of battle is 
 changed, but the battle is the same as was fought some years ago, 
 and I fear the result will be the same. 
 
 A few years ago the Puseyites pushed things to an extreme at 
 Oxford. They were supported by many young men of learning 
 and genius. But what has been the result ? They have so dis- 
 gusted the minds of sensible men that there is a reaction in favour 
 of Rationalism and infidelity. 
 
 What took place in Oxford is now taking place in Belgravia, 
 and Puseyite theology has become one of the amusements of a 
 portion of the aristocracy. The result will be the same. The 
 absurdities which disgust you and some others will disgust many 
 more, and among those who are now observed for their Romanising 
 we shall soon see not a few infidels and freethinkers. 
 
 When the movement was taking place at Oxford, some honest 
 Church of England men in the provinces abetted it ; myself among 
 the number. We were told that the leaders of the movement were 
 zealous Church of England men, and we fought for them. But now 
 the agitators do not profess Church of England principles, and 
 whatever they may regard themselves, I regard them as very low 
 Churchmen. You may be low on the Romish side as well as on 
 the Puritan side : the valley on one side of a mountain may be as 
 low as the valley on the other side. 
 
 And with these agitators, now that I know them, I, for one, 
 will have nothing to do. 
 
 The position which the Vicar had taken upon the education 
 question, and upon the Gorham controversy, his antagonism to 
 the proceedings at St. Saviour's, and some severe remarks upon 
 the system of teaching pursued at that church which he made 
 in two sermons published at the beginning of 1850,^ exposed 
 him to the taunt of having withdrawn from the ranks of the 
 High Church party. Statements to this effect began to go the 
 round of the newspapers, until at last he felt compelled to 
 vindicate himself from the accusation by a preface to the third 
 edition of the two sermons just mentioned. The substance of 
 this preface was reproduced in a letter printed in the ' Guardian ' 
 
 ' The Nonentity of Romish Saints and The Ina?tity of Romish Ordinances.
 
 -1 859 A Letter in Self-defence. 447 
 
 newspaper, from which a few extracts are here presented to the 
 reader. 
 
 I am not conscious of having changed a single principle during 
 the last thirty years ; but, on the contrary, I am only more con- 
 firmed in my admiration of the principles of the English Reforma- 
 tion, and more persuaded that the Church of England ' is the 
 purest and best reformed Church in Christendom.' For asserting 
 this I have been called a High Churchman, and I assert it still. 
 As far as the Church of England goes, I will go, but not a step 
 farther. Neither will I intentionally come short of her requirements. 
 
 I have not left any old party, and certainly I have not united 
 myself to any new party. I am where I was found by many of 
 those who are now severe in their censures of me, and where I 
 intend by God's grace to remain. It is very true, as the writer of 
 the paragraph states, that I have for some time expressed my dis- 
 satisfaction with the proceedings of the Romanisers whom the 
 writer calls Tractarians ; but I take leave to make a wide distinc- 
 tion between a Romaniser and a High Churchman. 
 
 When some of those who now are leaders among the Romanisers 
 — whom the writer of the paragraph designates as Tractarians — 
 were in the depths of ultra-Protestantism, and were discontented 
 with the Church of England for not being sufficiently Protestant ; 
 when some of them were ^•indicating the Rationalists of Germany, 
 and others were treading in the steps of the Puritans, though I re- 
 spected them for their virtues, I did not agree with them in their 
 principles, and by some of them I was regarded as a bigot. 
 
 When they changed these principles, and accepted the English 
 Reformation, defending it, as they did, in the earlier volumes of the 
 * Tracts for the Times ;' when they walked in the middle way, and 
 in escaping from ultra-Protestantism protested against the heresies 
 of Romanism, I rejoiced in their alliance, and did not shrink from 
 my share of the obloquy they incurred. 
 
 But when I now find them calumniators of the Church of 
 England, and vindicators of the Church of Rome ; palliating the 
 vices of the Romish system, and magnifying the deficiencies of the 
 Church of England ; sneering at everything Anglican, and admiring 
 everything Romish ; students of the breviary and missal, disciples 
 of the schoolmen, converts to mediasvalism, insinuating Romish 
 sentiments, circulating and republishing Romish works ; intro- 
 ducing Romish practices in their private, and infusing a Romish
 
 44^ Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1850- 
 
 tone into their public devotions ; intoducing the Romish con- 
 fessional, enjoining Romish penances, adopting Romish prostra- 
 tions, recommending Romish litanies ; muttering the Romish 
 Shibboleth, and rejoicing in the cant of Romish fanaticism, assuming 
 sometimes the garb of the Romish priesthood, and venerating 
 without imitating their celibacy ; defending Romish miracles, and 
 receiving as true the lying legends of Rome ; almost adoring 
 Romish saints, and complaining that we have had no saints in 
 England since we purified our Church ; explaining away the 
 idolatry, and pining for the Mariolatry of the Church of Rome ; 
 vituperating the English Reformation, and receiving for the truth 
 the false doctrines of the Council of Trent ; when I find them 
 whispering in the ears of credulous ignorance, in high places as 
 well as in low, that the two Churches are in principle the same ; 
 when they who were once in the pit on the one side of the wall, 
 have now tumbled over on the other side, and have fallen into ' a 
 lower deep still gaping to devour them ; ' I conceive that I am 
 bound as a High Churchman to remain stationary, and not to 
 follow them in their downfalling. I believe it to be incumbent 
 upon every High Churchman to declare plainly that it is not merely 
 in detail, that it is not merely in the application of our principles, 
 but in our principles themselves, that we differ from the Church of 
 Rome ; and that no man can secede to Rome, the system of 
 which is opposed to the truth as it is in Jesus, without placing his 
 soul in peril, and risking his salvation. . . . 
 
 Long as this letter is, I must intrude upon your kindness in 
 affording it space in your columns a little further, that I may observe 
 that the title of my pamphlet, the ' Nonentity of Romish Saints,' 
 has led to some misapprehension on the part of those who have 
 read the title only. What I undertake to show, is, that there can 
 be no saints in the Romish sense of the word. I do not deny that 
 there can be any good men, in spite of its heresy, schism, and 
 idolatiy, in the Church of Rome. There are many who are only 
 deserving of the greater admiration from the very circumstance of 
 their having led good lives under so corrupt a system. 
 
 In this respect what I complain of is one-sidedness. Charles 
 Borromeo was, we believe, a good man ; so was Charles Wesley. 
 Both of them are considered by H'gh Churchmen to have been 
 partially in error. If you call Charles Borromeo a saint, why not 
 call Charles Wesley a saint ? Both were holy men. Canonise 
 both or neither.
 
 -1 859 The Middle Path. 449 
 
 The excellent remark made by Bishop Wilberforce that 
 Hook was like a ship at anchor, which, though stationary, 
 swings round to present its breast to the tide, naturally recurs 
 to the mind at this point of his history. The two currents 
 which the Church had to stem were Romanism and infidelity. 
 The Vicar of Leeds steadfastly and bravely set his face against 
 both. Romanism, indeed, was brought to his very doors, so to 
 say, by the church of St. Saviour's, and it was against this that 
 his efforts were primarily directed. He considered Romanism 
 to be the handmaid of infidelity, and foresaw a coming prevalence 
 Oi scepticism, as a recoil from the extravagant teaching and 
 practice of the Romanising party in the Church. But the 
 infidehty with which he was actually brought into contact was 
 not that of cultivated and reflective men, whose minds have 
 become bewildered and unhinged by the logical problems, but 
 rather that coarse heathenish form of it which is the result either 
 of gross ignorance, or of profligate living. 
 
 Hence at this time the two strings, so to say, on which his 
 mind most continually harped, were the Protestant and the 
 educational. 
 
 The deep suspicion which he now entertained of the extreme 
 High Church party deterred him from co-operating with them, 
 even for the promotion of objects which in themselves he con- 
 sidered desirable. He distrusted their loyalty, and still more 
 their discretion ; he was disposed to regard them as a kind of 
 clique who tampered with the pure doctrine and practice of the 
 Church of England, and impeded the progress of both. 
 
 These feelings are very clearly manifested in a long letter 
 which he addressed, in October 1850, to the Secretaries of the 
 Yorkshire Church Union, declining to become a member oi it. 
 The letter is too voluminous to be transcribed in full, but a 
 Ijrief extract from the latter part will suffice to indicate its tone. 
 
 ... I do not see how members of the Church of England can 
 be called upon to form a Union, except on the principles and in 
 vindication of the principles of the English Reformation. These 
 principles are both Catholic and Protestant ; Catholic as opposed 
 to the peculiarities of rationalism, and Protestant as opposed to the 
 
 GG
 
 450 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1850- 
 
 mediievalism of the Romanist. I do not see how a consistent 
 High Churchman can, after what has transpired, join your Union 
 unless you state one of your objects to be ' To maintain and pro- 
 pagate the principles of the English Reformation ; to uphold 
 Scriptural and primitive truth, in opposition to mediaeval heresies, 
 and to presen-e the middle position of the Church of England 
 in opposition equally to rationalistic scepticism and Romish 
 superstition.' If this were to be one of the avowed objects of your 
 institution, it would exclude Romanisers as well as all rationalists, 
 and would bring together High Churchmen, or those who are 
 determined to maintain the principles of the reformed Catholic 
 Church of England. . . . 
 
 Let those unite who glory in the principles of the Church of 
 England, and let them seek to adorn their principles by leading 
 lives more devoted, more pure, more holy. Then will the number 
 of those be increased who regard England and the Church of 
 England as destined to answer a high purpose in the providence of 
 God. 
 
 This letter brought down upon liim a storm of reproaches 
 from most of the extreme sections in the Church, but subsequent 
 events in Leeds and elsewhere only served to confirm him in the 
 sentiments and opinions which he had expressed. 
 
 What we may call the Protestant element in his mind being 
 most dominant at this period, it is not surprising that he was 
 partly carried away by the torrent of popular fear and rage 
 which swept over the country when Pope Pius IX., in the 
 autumn of 1850, announced his intention of organising a com- 
 plete hierarchy in England, by dividing the country into twehe 
 dioceses to be ruled by bishops taking their titles from English 
 towns. He was not indeed seriously alarmed at the ' aggression ' 
 as it was commonly called, but he resented it as a gross affront 
 to the Crow'n and to the Church of England. 
 
 A large meeting of clergy was held in Leeds early in 
 November, at which he made a vigorous and impassioned 
 speech on the subject. The resolution w^hich he moved was, 
 that ' the clergy of this Archdeaconry view wuth the strongest 
 indignation the Papal Bull of September 24, by which the 
 Bishop of Rome has dared in his arrogancy to parcel out this
 
 -1 859 Speech on Papal Aggression. 451 
 
 realm of England into districts, to erect such districts into 
 Romish Sees, to appoint to those Sees ecclesiastics of his own 
 choice, and to confer upon them titles taken from some of the 
 chief towns in the Kingdom, thus dishonouring the Queen's 
 majesty, ignoring the ver)' existence of the Church, and sow- 
 ing the seeds of strife throughout the land.' 
 
 Indignant (he began) as my feelings are at the insult offered to 
 my native land, and to my honoured mother the Church of England, 
 I trust that I shall be so far enabled to restrain them as not to ex- 
 ceed that moderation of language which is becoming when address- 
 ing such an assembly as the present. I think that I may safely 
 say that we do not desire to see violated those principles of tolera- 
 tion which have long been established in this country. I for one 
 believe that the Church of England was never so powerful for 
 good as she has been since the time when persons discontented 
 with her discipline and her doctrine have been at liberty to quit 
 ber communion without being subjected to pains and penalties. I 
 am fully aware that if toleration is to be granted to Romish Dis- 
 senters, toleration must be granted to Romish Bishops. They 
 have long had bishops in England, and we neither interfered with 
 nor cared for their Vicars Apostolic. We murmured not, neither 
 did we complain. But the case is now altered. A foreign Power 
 has assumed authority to confer jurisdiction connected with terri- 
 toiy, which we consider to be a political grievance. . . . Still fur- 
 ther, the Romish sect has dared to declare in the ears of all Europe, 
 that this wise and understanding people, this great English nation, 
 is prepared to fall back into the superstitions of the dark ages, and 
 that we are prepared to accept Popery. Therefore it is that England 
 is convulsed from one end to the other, therefore it is that in one 
 loud national voice, a voice in which the Church of England must 
 unite, we answer in the ears of Europe, and in the words of our 
 great national poet, 
 
 You told a lie, an odious, damned lie, 
 Upon my soul, a lie, a wncked lie. 
 
 But though I think this is our duty, I think at the same time 
 that by this false move of the enemy our hands are strengthened. 
 They will be strengthened if, instead of resorting to crimination 
 and recrimination, we permit the present event to bind us closer 
 in the bonds of brotherly love and Christian fellowship ; if we pcr- 
 
 G G 2
 
 452 Life of Walter Farqnhai' Hook. 1850- 
 
 mit it to dispel the suspicions with which we too often legaid one 
 another, and break down party barriers ; if, while we allow due 
 latitude to opinions, w-e are united in our principles, the principles of 
 the refonned Church of England, both Catholic and Protestant, for ' 
 neither of these will I give up. 
 
 An address to the Bishop of Ripon, conceived in the same 
 spirit of patriotism and of devotion to the National Church, was 
 drawn up by the Vicar as Rural Dean, and signed by the forty- 
 seven clergy of his Deaner)-. 
 
 That union of rival parties in the Church against a common 
 foe, whicli was so earnestly advocated in the conclusion of his 
 speech, might have been more extensively effected but for a 
 letter w^hich the Prime Minister (Lord John Russell) thought 
 proper to publish, addressed to the Bishop of Durham, in which 
 he insinuated that the teaching and practice of the High Church 
 clergy were far more formidable sources of danger to the Church 
 of England than any aggression on the part of Rome. In fact 
 tlie Premier gave the spur to that fierce indiscriminating 
 passion of Protestantism, which, when thoroughly roused in the 
 breast of the English people, makes them cease to become 
 reasonable beings, while the ungodly and profane, in their de- 
 testation of all religion, are careful to foment the strife. All 
 o\er the country a wild cry of ' No Popery ' was raised ; 
 moderate High Churchmen were denounced as Papists, a decent 
 and orderly ceremonial was stigmatised as Popish mummery. 
 The disgraceful riots which have been too common in London 
 churches during the past twenty-five years, date from this period 
 of excitement and confusion. 
 
 It was in the midst of all this national ferment and frenzy 
 that the affairs of St. Saviour's Church in Leeds were brought 
 to a crisis. The Bishop of Ripon was continually receiving 
 information of objectionable teaching on so many points, that 
 he determined to make an investigation into the trutli of the 
 allegations. An enquiry was accordingly held by him on 
 December 14 and 15, in the vestry of the parish church, in the 
 presence of the Vicar, a few other clergy of the town, and a 
 lawyer. The clergy of St. Saviour's, and several witnesses were
 
 -i859 Secession from St. Saviour s. 453 
 
 examined. The principal facts elicited were, that the duty of 
 confessing to a priest before receiving the Holy Eucharist was 
 systematically taught ; that belief in the seven sacraments and 
 in penance as a means of forgiveness of actual deadly sin was 
 inculcated ; that it had been asserted that deadly sin after 
 baptism must end in spiritual death unless penance was resorted 
 to, and unless the sinner confessed his offences to a priest ; and 
 that after consecration the bread in Holy Communion was no 
 more bread, and the wine no more wine. 
 
 The result of this investigation was that tlie Bishop in- 
 hibited one of the clergy from officiating, suspended tlie 
 licence of another, and issued a notice to the Vicar of St. 
 Saviour's, Mr. Minster, that these were only preliminary steps 
 to further proceedings. The necessity of further proceedings, 
 however, was obviated by a wholesale secession of the clerg)- to 
 the Church of Rome in the following sj^ring, accompanied by 
 several members of the congregation. Out of fifteen clergy 
 who had been connected with St. Saviour's since the consecra- 
 tion of the church in 1845, "i'"'^ had now seceded. Only one 
 remained at his post after the great collapse of 185 1. Before 
 the close of that year a new vicar was found after some diffi- 
 culty, and so ends the second chapter in the singular and melan- 
 choly history of that church. From this date the secessions to 
 Rome cease ; the parish relapses into a state oi c^uiescence, at 
 times of insignificance. 
 
 There has been a strange and painful contrast between the 
 work actually achieved at St. Saviour's and the high expecta- 
 tions originally formed concerning it. But it is to be hoped 
 that, under the administration of a vicar combining vigour 
 and discretion, a prosperous future may be in store for the 
 ]jarish. And although the experiment at St. Saviour's was on 
 the whole a failure, partly owing to human infirmity, and 
 partly to untoward circumstances, let it be freely owned t'nat 
 the effort was in itself a noble one. A church planted in the 
 midst of poverty and vice, a band of clergy living together in 
 frugal simjjlicity beneath the shadow of the church, this was a 
 noble design; and among the clergy at different times were
 
 454 Life of Walter Farqii/iar Hook. 1850- 
 
 men unsurpassed in self-denying devotion to the duties of their 
 holy calling. And when the church was in its infancy and all 
 connected with it were full of high hopes and earnest aspira- 
 tions, a spirit of zeal was kindled in the hearts of many, and an 
 ideal standard of work rose before their minds, the effects of 
 which ha\-e never died away. 
 
 But gradually the spirit of controversy, earnestly deprecated 
 as it had been with a kind of prophetic instinct by Dr. Pusey 
 in his preface to the sermons preached at the consecration, fell 
 like a blight upon that happy brotherhood, and with contro- 
 versy came restlessness, discontent with the sober standard of 
 teaching and practice prescribed by the Church of England, 
 morbid and puerile sentimentalism. First the suspicions, then 
 the indignation, of the great champion of the 'middle path,' 
 the Vicar of the parish church, were aroused ; he smote the 
 disaffected fiercely, unsparingly, on the right hand and on the 
 left, by speech, by sermon, by pamphlet, by letter, and then 
 came fallings away, and one by one they went oiit, ' not know- 
 ing whither they went' 
 
 The government of Lord John Russell sought to humour 
 the popular feeling against the Papal aggression, by bringing in 
 a Bill which prohibited the assumption of English territorial 
 titles by Roman Catholic Bishops. It was carried by a large 
 majority, but it w^as an utterly futile measure. It could not 
 prevent other persons from giving them those titles, and osten- 
 tatiously employing them on every possible occasion ; and 
 some of the most powerful advocates of civil and religious 
 liberty, including Sir James Graham, Mr. Gladstone, Mr. 
 Roundell Palmer, JNIr. Cobden, and Mr. Bright, offered a 
 strenuous opposition to the Bill as alike unjust and ineffective. 
 
 The Vicar of Leeds had never suffered from that abject, 
 not to say ridiculous terror to which a large portion of the 
 English public had been reduced by the so-called Papal 
 aggression, but it has been seen to what a degree it provoked 
 his indignation, while the recent events in Leeds had increased 
 his dread and detestation of the Roman Church. He was, 
 therefore, a warm sujjportcr of the Ecclesiastical Titles
 
 -i8s9 Ecclesiastical Titles Bill. 455 
 
 Assumption Bill, which he considered a righteous and whole- 
 some protest, to say the least, against the arrogant pretensions 
 and encroachments of a foreign Power. 
 
 The following letters to Mr. Gladstone will sufficiently 
 illustrate the overheated degree of excitement under which he 
 laboured on the subject. 
 
 12 Great George Street, Westminster : June 23, 1851, 
 My dear IMr. Gladstone, — On my return from Yarmouth on 
 Saturday I found on my table a copy of your speech on the 
 Ecclesiastical Titles Assumption Bill, and I thank you for sending 
 it. I wish that I could dwell exclusively on its literary merits, for 
 your power of expression and command of language have always a 
 charm for me ; but I am prevented from doing this by my strong 
 feelings with reference to the subject of the Papal aggression. I 
 am no politician, but as a patriot, a Churchman, and a Christian I 
 am boiling over with indignation at the attack which has been 
 made upon the institutions of my country', my Church, and my 
 religion, by an avowed, wicked, and unscrupulous enemy. I 
 believe that assailant to be the enemy of God and man, for although 
 the Pope be the antichrist employed against the cause of my Saviour 
 and my God in this country, the real author of the movement is he 
 who is the author of all evil. 
 
 Such being the fact that an attack has been made upon my 
 country and my Church, I deeply lament the other fact, that you 
 are not leading the battle, as I should have expected, against our 
 deadly foe. I can only look to that fact and see that as you are 
 not with us, you are against us ; and in consequence at the next 
 election for the University you will find me, if alive, among the fore- 
 most and most decided of your opponents. 
 
 I did not intend to address you on the subject at present, but 
 after having received a copy of your speech, it would be want of 
 candour on my part if I did not tell you my mind. But nothing 
 will interfere with the respect and esteem with which I have so long 
 regarded you, and I trust you will always permit me to subscribe 
 myself, my dear Mr. Gladstone, 
 
 Yours very truly. 
 
 12 Great George Strett, Westminster : Juno 25, 1851. 
 My dear Mr. Gladstone, ... I cannot think that the present 
 Bill is so defective and dishonest as you seem to think, because you
 
 456 Life of Waltei'' Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 must remember that more than four hundred members have pro- 
 nounced it to be honest and effective, whose number must be in- 
 creased by the Irish members, who would not be so vehement in 
 their opposition if they did not so regard it ; but were this other- 
 wise it would be quite effective enough for me, even if the provisions 
 of it were less stringent. All I wanted was what we have obtained, a 
 proof to the world that this wise and understanding people, the 
 great English nation, who hurled a sovereign from the throne 
 because he was a Papist, are still as resolute. and determined to 
 resist any Papal aggression. From one end of the island to the 
 other our voice has been heard, and yet, plain as our language was, 
 the enemy would have succeeded in persuading Europe that it was 
 only the voice of a few fanatics, unless our representatives had re- 
 sponded to it. I consider our great majority in the House to be a 
 glorious declaration of our detestation of Popery, and still more 
 glorious is the fact that even a Whig ministry has not dared to re- 
 sist the public feeling in this respect. 
 
 ' I am still, as old age is coming upon me, prepared to do battle 
 against all comers from all quarters in behalf of the honoured 
 Church of England, as I was in the days of my youth. 
 
 It is needless to say that these strong expressions of disap- 
 probation were received and answered in the same spirit of 
 friendly candour in which they were uttered. And the wrong 
 which, as the Vicar fancied, had been done by Mr. Gladstone 
 to the Church in this instance, was in his estimation redeemed 
 by the subsequent exertions of that statesman on behalf of the 
 Church, and his indefatigable efforts to promote the moral, 
 social, and material welfare of the people. 
 
 Writing to him in January 1852, to thank him for a copy of 
 his pamphlet on the ' Functions of Laymen in the Church,' he 
 says : ' At the time of the Papal aggression, I felt it to be so 
 important to strengthen our national defences, that I ventured 
 to express my opposition to the line of political conduct pur- 
 sued by you. I feel, therefore, that I am not taking an im- 
 proper liberty when I now express my admiration at the sound 
 practical wisdom, united with correct Church principle, which, 
 both in this pamphlet and in that on the Universities, you have 
 displayed. May Ave all profit by it ! '
 
 -i859 Letter on Coalition Ministry. ^^J 
 
 He had, indeed, completely broken away from all servitude 
 to political party, and was prepared to give his hearty support 
 to anyone who would permit or assist the Church to develop 
 her resources on the one hand, and on the other to carry on 
 the work of national education and social improvement. In a 
 letter to Sir W. Page Wood in the middle of 1852 he writes : 
 ' I cannot help thinking that, as we have always coincided in 
 our religious opinions, we shall end life with being one in our 
 politics. The present incapable Ministry ^ cannot last. It will 
 terminate Toryism, as with the last Ministry ^ the reign of 
 Whiggism came to an end. New parties must be formed, and 
 I shall certainly be attached to the party of progress. Immense 
 social improvements must take place. We are bound as 
 Christians to aim at this.' 
 
 In harmony with the sentiments of this letter, he viewed 
 with satisfaction the coalition of the Whig and Peelite parties 
 under Lord Aberdeen on the downfall of Lord Derby's admin- 
 istration at the close of 1852. Mr. Gladstone accepted the 
 office of Chancellor of the Exchequer in the Coalition Cabinet, 
 and his election for the University of Oxford was by many 
 vehemently opposed, but by no one more heartily supported 
 than by the Vicar of Leeds, as the following letter to a ' Mem- 
 ber of the Oxford Convocation ' will show. 
 
 Dear Sir, — I receive with thanks your remonstrance against 
 my vote for Mr. Gladstone, and I shall be happy if what I say in 
 vindication of that vote shall induce you to extend him your sup- 
 port. It is on the ground of his supporting a Coalition Govern- 
 ment that you refuse him your vote and interest. . . . 
 
 If it were the question whether the country should be governed 
 by the Whig party or the Tory party I should from early prejudice 
 if not from conviction, be in favour of the Tories. But the coun- 
 try has decided, and I think wisely, that by these two rival parties 
 the country shall be no longer governed. The Whig party was in 
 power under Lord John Russell, of whom I will only say that if 1 
 were a Whig I could not desire an abler leader. lUit the Whig 
 
 1 Lord Derby's. It began in Fcbmary 1852, and came to an end in the 
 autumn of the same year. 
 
 2 Lord John Russe]l's.
 
 458 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 party could not govern the country. The Tory party made the 
 attempt under a leader of whom I may say what I have said of 
 Lord John Russell, with this addition, that Lord Derby is perhaps 
 the most eloquent man of the age. But the Tory party was, equally 
 with the Whig party, unable to govern the countr)^ 
 
 Almost all thinking men are anxious to see the social condition 
 of the people impro\-ed, and certain reforms carried into efifect ; and 
 instead of encouraging a contest for power between rival factions^ 
 they require the heads of different parties to unite for the pub- 
 lic good. Having been thrown into very general society, and 
 having personal friends in every party, not excluding the Chartists, 
 my object in life having been not to make men Tories or Whigs, 
 but pious members of the Church of England, 1 am able to make 
 this assertion in very strong terms, and without fear of reasonable 
 contradiction. In other words, the country demands a Coalition Ad- 
 ministration. The leaders of parties have responded to the call. Lord 
 John Russell has made great sacrifices, and so have the adherents 
 of the late Sir Robert Peel ; and we may hope that the leaders of 
 the Tory party will in course of time send in their adhesion, and, 
 admitting that the country is no longer to be governed by either of 
 the ancient parties, unite with their opponents in promoting the 
 countr>''s good. 
 
 Mr, Gladstone is one of the leaders who has pursued this 
 course, and has sacrificed (we may hope only for a time) the good 
 opinion of some of his former friends. Many of his former friends, 
 who vote against him, vote, in fact, against a Coalition Govern- 
 ment, and say, in effect, ' none but a Tory shall reign over us. . . . 
 This is clear and intelligible ground. Such persons I think to be 
 in error, but I honour them for their very prejudices. 
 
 But there is another class of persons whose ground is less intel- 
 ligible, although their prejudices are to be equally respected. 
 There are some who go with us to this point, that a Coalition 
 Ministry' is necessary, but are enraged against Mr. Gladstone 
 
 for joining a Ministr)' which contains and . How can 
 
 he sit in a Cabinet, they ask, which contains such men as 
 these? In other words, they demand an impossibility. If we 
 are to have a Coalition Ministry, it must contain men of various 
 shades of opinion, and some who are opposed to others on 
 very important questions. What the country wants is a Ministry 
 which shall not legislate for the Whig interest or the Tory interest, 
 but for the general good of the country. How is such a Ministr)- to.
 
 -i8s9 ^Z/'- Gladstone. 459. 
 
 be formed, except upon the plan and principle adopted by Lord 
 Aberdeen ? 
 
 If you are opposed to the principle of a Coalition Ministry, you. 
 must, of course, be opposed to Mr. Gladstone. But if you see that 
 old parties are broken up, and that a Coalition Ministry we must 
 have, it is folly, if not madness, to deprive the Ministry of its con- 
 ser\-ative element. 
 
 I do not myself agree with Mr. Gladstone in all his opinions. \ 
 disapproved of the course he took in regard to the Papal aggres- 
 sion, and spoke my mind to him with freedom. But if I could con- 
 vince you, as clearly as I feel convinced myself, that he is a patriot 
 devoted to the best interests of his country, a philanthropist desirous 
 of promoting the welfare of the working classes, a Christian illus- 
 trating the principles of Christianity in an unblemished life, and a 
 Churchman who loves the Church of England and desires to main- 
 tain her in that via medfa in which she has providentially been 
 placed, you will vote, as I have voted, heartily for Mr. Gladstone. 
 
 He transferred, indeed, to Mr. Gladstone, the admiration 
 which he had entertained for Sir Robert Peel during the Ufe- 
 time of that eminent statesman. He believed both to be 
 sincere and enlightened patriots, but the bolder policy and the 
 warmer temperament of Mr. Gladstone enlisted his sympathies 
 in a higher degree. In spite of occasional differences of 
 opinion, he regarded him to the end of his life with undimin- 
 ished esteem, as the foremost statesman of his age, the fearless 
 champion of liberty and justice, the firm defender of the true 
 interests and real honour of his country through evil report and 
 good report. And the admiration was reciprocal. The great 
 statesman was accustomed to speak of the great Vicar as the 
 foremost parish priest of his age ; he lamented the scanty and 
 tardy recognition made by the State of his eminent services to 
 the Church, and as soon as he was able, after he became 
 Premier, he offered him the preferment which then came too 
 late, but which ten years earlier would have been thankfully 
 accepted. 
 
 The influence, indeed, of the \'icar in Leeds amongst all 
 classes of the community, but especially among the working 
 people, was in no small degree due to his thoroughly English.
 
 460 Life of Walter Fargiihar Hook. 1850- 
 
 patriotic spirit. He loved his country, he thought that no 
 other country in the world was equal to it ; and he threw him- 
 self with enthusiasm into all local efforts either to celebrate 
 national events, or to do honour to national heroes. In 
 October 1852 he writes to Sir W. P. Wood after the death of 
 the Duke of Wellington : ' I will not say anything of the loss 
 of our great hero, of him whose prowess and glory we have 
 watched and delighted in from our childish days : alas ! "we 
 shall not look upon his like again." I love old England the 
 more for the intense enthusiasm for that good old English heart 
 of oak. But I must tell you that I, who have eschewed politics, 
 have done a little politics while you have been abroad. I 
 thought it right to attend the inauguration of the Peel statue 
 here, and to make a speech laudatory of that great man. I 
 did so for various reasons. I thought it right to show my 
 sympathy with the townsmen on a ])oint on which we are all 
 agreed, and I wished to take a line which showed me to be no 
 adherent of the present Government.' 
 
 He declined an invitation to take part in the grand proces- 
 sion which followed the Great Duke's remains to their resting- 
 place in St. Paul's, London, in order that he might preach at 
 the great services with which that day was celebrated at his 
 own church. The Mayor and Corporation attended in state, 
 marching in procession with a long line of military, preceded 
 by their band, and many gentlemen of the neighbourhood. A 
 vast concourse of people thronged the building where the 
 service and the sermon were alike worthy of the occasion. 
 None who heard it will easily forget the music sung on that 
 day, sung as few choirs but the choir of Leeds parish church 
 could sing it : 'Ye sons of Israel now lament ; ' Mozart's 
 ' Requiem : ' ' Have mercy. Lord,' from Beethoven ; and 
 an adaptation from Haydn's Passion Music for Revelation 
 xiv. 13. 
 
 Few, too, who heard the sermon can have forgotten how 
 the Vicar, after dwelling upon the high sense of honour, and 
 of duty, the courage and firmness mingled with modesty and 
 humility, which distinguished the Great Duke, concluded with
 
 -i859 The Vicar s Patriotism. 461 
 
 an earnest exhortation to cultivate a spirit of 'enlightened 
 patriotism as a religious duty.' 'Let us each endeavour,' he 
 said, ' in our respective stations, to render the institutions of 
 our country more and more conducive to the welfare of the great 
 masses of the people ; and they in their love to their own, 
 their native land, will be ready to second, if need shall be, the 
 gallant efforts of that patriotic army so often led to victory by 
 the great captain we have lost. . . . Let us glory in the fact 
 that we are Englishmen, and remember that as Englishmen we 
 are to set an example to the world, and not to seek, whether in 
 morals, in religion, or in politics, a model in other nations ; 
 that we have what few nations possess, a constitution worth 
 defending. Let us glory in our insularity, our insularity being 
 one of our means of protection morally and religiously as well 
 as physically.' 
 
 And in like manner on all public occasions of local interest, 
 such as the inauguration of any public building, or institution 
 or charity which was likely to be a benefit to the community at 
 large, the Vicar never failed to be present and to take a leading 
 part. He rejoiced in such opportunities of meeting men who 
 were opposed to him in political or religious opinions, and of 
 sinking differences in the desire, common to them all, as good 
 c;itizens, of promoting the moral good and material prosperity 
 of their great town. It was his aim, too, in his speeches on 
 all such occasions, to infuse a religious spirit into the work 
 whatever it might be, and to prove that the undertaking was not 
 complete unless a divine blessing had been invoked upon it. 
 
 At the ceremony of laying the foundation-stone of the new 
 Town Hall in August 1853, it was reckoned that not less than 
 50,000 persons were present. The Vicar, in his speech, 
 pointed out how the building was intended to extend the 
 benefits to the people of two divine attributes, justice and 
 mercy, for it would be the central place of meeting for the 
 committees of the various charities of the town, as well as for 
 the courts of law, and he therefore called upon the people as 
 their chief pastor to utter a hearty Amen to his prayer that God 
 would vouchsafe His blessing upon the building ; and loud
 
 462 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 1850- 
 
 and deep was the response which rose from that vast assembly. 
 The genuine and warm interest which he took in this event 
 are manifest in the following letter to Vice- Chancellor Wood : 
 
 Yesterday went off gloriously. All shops and mills were closed. 
 It was a complete holiday, and the whole population turned out to 
 take part in the proceedings ; the very roofs of the houses being 
 covered with people anxious to see the procession. As there were 
 no robes or uniforms except those of the military, and we have not 
 many quartered here at present, the crowds were the more remark- 
 able, and, dense as they were, the order and decorum were more 
 remarkable still. 
 
 The procession was headed (after some police and a band to 
 prepare the way) by the Vicar, supported on the one hand by Sir 
 J. Goodman, our Radical M.P., a Baptist, though a staunch advo- 
 cate of mine, and on the other by Mr. Baines, M.P. The many 
 greetings I received from the occupiers of windows as we passed 
 seemed always attended with a smile as if amused at my new and 
 very delightful position. After us followed the corporation, then 
 the military, then the clubs — Odd Fellows, Sons of Apollo, &c. 
 
 On the ground, the speakers were the Mayor (John Hope Shaw), 
 the Vicar, old Mr. Hall, representing the former corporation, and 
 Edward Baines, the editor of the ' Mercuiy.' 
 
 At the dinner, there was much kind feeling shown ; and, what 
 will most interest you, the Vicar was received most enthusiastically 
 as one who had always taken a Avarm interest in all that relates to 
 the welfare of the town of Leeds. The Town Council consists 
 almost exclusively of Radicals and Dissenters, so that all this was 
 very marked. I do not apologise for an egotism which will give 
 you pleasure. I do not place an undue value upon these things, 
 but I have an ambition to be loved. From my earliest days my 
 thoughts have been of the happiness of a beloved pastor. To be 
 loved by my family, to be loved by my friend, to be loved by my 
 parish, and this without compromise of principle ; this is the height 
 of my ambition. 
 
 I had a great mind to tell the people that nothing in the shape 
 of preferment could ever take me away from Leeds, but I thought 
 it better not to commit myself. 
 
 He did, indeed, reach during that final period of his life at 
 Leeds on which we have now entered, the height of his ambi-
 
 -1859 Quiet Times. 463 
 
 tion, as he describes it in this letter. He had Hved down 
 suspicions, obloquy, and opposition ; he had won the ardent 
 love and esteem of all classes of the people committed to his 
 charge ; he had secured for the Church such a dominant 
 position as she enjoyed in scarce any other town in England, 
 and now, to the end of his career as a vicar, he had little more 
 to do than gently to foster the spirit which he had created, and 
 to watch and tend the steady growth of the principles which he 
 had planted. It was a period of intense but, on the whole, of 
 serene activity, unruffled by such painful conflicts and contro- 
 versies as had disturbed the first decade of his ministry at Leeds. 
 In a sermon which he preached on September 2, 185 1, 
 being the tenth anniversary of the consecration of the parish 
 church, he took a review of the progress of work in Leeds 
 since that event : and as usual he assigned the chief credit of 
 it all to his flock and to the clergy by whom he had been 
 assisted, putting out of sight his own inspiring energy which 
 had really been the source and mainspring of it all. 
 
 I rejoice (he said) to think that all men of all sections of the 
 Church, both of the clergy and of the laity, who have any pretensions 
 to be called religious, have been actively engaged ; and what has 
 been done must be regarded as the triumph, not of a party but of 
 the Church. 
 
 And let us see the result. After expending 28,000/. in I'e- 
 building this the parish church, you have in the course of ten years 
 erected ten new churches, some of them at a cost of not less than 
 15,000/. or 20,000/. To the whole of the Church population among 
 us, the expression of our thanks is due ; not only to those who have 
 literally given of their wealth, but to those who with less means 
 have raised money through begging cards, and to the poor by whose 
 pence those cards were filled. 
 
 Assisted by a legacy of 20,000/.^ bequeathed for church purposes 
 in Leeds, you have erected seventeen parsonage-houses, thereby 
 securing to as many districts the advantage and blessing of a re- 
 sident minister. 
 
 The parish of Leeds, one and undivided at the period when this 
 church was consecrated, has already been formed into seventeen 
 
 ' From Mrs. Mathewman.
 
 464 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 parislies, all oi them endow ed, and the clergy have increased from 
 twenty-five to sixty. 
 
 With the aid afforded by the National Society, and by grants 
 from the Committee oi the Privy Council, you have liberally con- 
 tributed to the erection of twenty-one school-rooms, to many of 
 which are attached houses for the masters ; and you have during 
 the last ten years provided school accommodation for 7,500 children, 
 of whose general proficiency a favourable report has been made by 
 the Government Inspector.' 
 
 He then went on to speak of the seasons of commercial 
 distress, and of the deadly pestilences ot Asiatic cholera and 
 Irish fever, by which the town had been visited ; and how 
 bravely they had been met ; with what patient fortitude on the 
 part of the poor, with what generosity on the part of the rich ; 
 with what fearless devotion to their duty on the part of the 
 clergy, one of them (the Rev. Edward Jackson) having been 
 brought to the gates of death by cholera, and another, William 
 Stanley Monck, having died of the Irish fever. 
 
 And then turning to the deeper part ol his subject — the 
 internal work — the growth of grace in individual souls, he 
 asked, ' Has this made equal progress with the external works 
 of which I have been speaking ? ' The hearts and consciences 
 of each must answer for themselves. But this much he could 
 say. ' Some, who ten years ago were among the careless, are 
 now among the most energetic of the brethren ; and many 
 minds, once in doubt, are now devoted to the truth as it is in 
 Jesus. There have been confirmed in this church 4,500 young 
 persons, and of these the greater number have continued to be 
 communicants.' 
 
 Lastly he spoke with thankfulness of the spirit of brotherly 
 love which had lately prevailed between the several classes of 
 the community. 
 
 There was a time when the good cause was likely to be retarded 
 by our divisions ; may the God of truth and peace pardon what is 
 
 1 By confining his retrospect to the last ten years, he did not state the 
 whole of the church-building and school-building accomplished since he had 
 become Vicar, which amounted to thirteen churches, and accommodation for 
 10,000 children.
 
 -i859 T1ie Chiu^ch and the Poor. 465 
 
 past, and continue to us the desire to unite in the great work which 
 presses upon every Christian philanthropist ; namely, to devise the 
 means of extending the comforts of life, and of opening the enjoy- 
 ments of civilised society to the great mass of the working popula- 
 tion, and at the same time of defending the rights of property, and 
 of preserving the principles of social order ; of vindicating the cause 
 of the poor, and of asserting the responsibilities of wealth, and at 
 the same time of binding all, the employer and the employed, in the 
 bonds of brotherly love ; of encouraging freedom of enquiry and 
 independence of mind, and at the same time leavening society with 
 the religious element, leading men to the only Saviour, and educating 
 them for eternity as well as for time.' 
 
 The subject referred to in the last words of this passage 
 was one which pressed very heavily upon the mind of the Vicar 
 and the rest of the clergy in Leeds. In spite of all the work 
 which had been accomplished, so rapid was the growth of the 
 population that there were large masses who were lost to the 
 influence, not only of the Church but of Christianity, and even 
 of civilisation, especially in the suburban manufacturing dis- 
 tricts. Writing to Vice-Chancellor Wood in 185 1, he says, 
 ' you at a distance cannot understand the savage ignorance, 
 the embittered barbarism of our manufacturing villages ; you 
 can have no notion of the ignorance which prevails, and which, 
 being unchecked by superstition, is ready to break out into 
 terrible acts whenever there is an opportunity. This it is which 
 makes me so anxious about education.' A committee of the 
 Ruri-decanal Chapter of Leeds was appointed in September 
 185 1, consisting of the Vicar, as Chairman, and six other clergy,' 
 to consider the best means of reclaiming the lost portion of the 
 population. 
 
 Their report was issued on October 20, and it is remarkable 
 for suggestions which were then regarded as startlingly novel, 
 hut which have since been very cotnmonly put into practice 
 with the most beneficial results. The following were the most 
 important, (i) The multiplication and division of services in 
 the Church ; (2) the establishment of short services specially 
 
 1 Mr. W. Sinclair, Mr. J. D. Dixon, Mr. E. Jackson, Mr. J. H. F. Kendall, 
 Mr. H. W. Short, and Mr. James Fawcett. 
 
 H H
 
 466 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1850- 
 
 adapted to children ; (3) the celebration of Holy Communion 
 at a greater variety of hours ; (4) services and preaching in the 
 open air, or in a movable building or tent ; (5) an authorised 
 hymn-book ; (6) the extension of the diaconate and revival of 
 the subdiaconate ; (7) the promotion of popular education, not 
 only by means of schools for the young, but also by the es- 
 tablishment of scientific institutions, reading-rooms and libraries 
 for adults. 
 
 In harmony with the spirit of the last suggestion a great 
 deal of the Vicar's time and attention were bestowed, during 
 this period, upon improving by every means in his power the 
 moral and intellectual condition of the operatives and lower 
 middle class. If he could not make good Churchmen of them 
 all, he felt that he might prepare the way for the reception of 
 religious truth by helping to cultivate among them a taste for 
 literature and science, and a spirit of rational enquiry. And as 
 a healthy body is an essential condition of a sound mind, he 
 earnestly advocated the provision of opportunities and means 
 for wholesome recreation. He gave a lecture at the Music 
 Hall in 1853 in favour of the early-closing movement, opposed 
 the encampment of the militia on Woodhouse Moor, a piece of 
 high and heathy ground adjacent to the town, and prompted 
 the Town Council to secure it as a public park for the benefit 
 of the inhabitants. He would not support in 1856 a scheme 
 for providing bands of music to play on the moor on Sundays, 
 but neither would he sign a protest against it drawn up by 
 thirty-eight clergy in Leeds and the suburbs, because he con- 
 sidered that it was based upon a false conception of the nature 
 of that holy day. He therefore preached a sermon in the 
 parish church upon the subject of the ' Lord's Day,' exposing 
 the common confusion introduced by the Puritans between the 
 Sabbath and the Sunday, and pointing out that while the Sab- 
 bath was a Divine institution, for the observance of which direct 
 and particular commands had been given by God Himself, the 
 Sunday was of ecclesiastical origin. It had, indeed, been set 
 apart by the Church for worship, mental repose, and bodily 
 rest ; but with these objects innocent recreation was not in-
 
 -1859 Lectures and Addresses. 467 
 
 compatible, and could not reasonably be prohibited if it did not 
 involve severe labour on the part of those who provided it, or 
 interfere with religious duties. 
 
 The addresses and lectures which he delivered in Leeds 
 and other places between 1850 and 1S59 would fill a volume, 
 and it would be impossible within the limits of this memoir to 
 give a particular account of them. Considering that they were 
 all prepared in such intervals of leisure as he could snatch from 
 his daily labour of carrying on a voluminous correspondence, 
 writing sermons, visiting the sick, and the innumerable other 
 calls which split up the time of a parish priest in a large town, 
 they testify to extraordinary fertility of thought, industry in 
 research, rapidity in composition, and physical strength. For 
 they were by no means the light and flimsy productions which 
 might be expected and pardoned in one distracted by the 
 manifold avocations of a vast pastoral charge. The lectures on 
 Queen Elizabeth, on Marlborough, and on the Crusades, were 
 in matter and in style such as no scholar who had made the 
 study of history his constant employment would have been 
 ashamed to own. And like the biographies of the Primates 
 which he wrote in his old age, they are lighted up with gleams 
 of original humour, and studded with wise and weighty prac- 
 tical observations which could not have come from anyone but 
 himself ; from his large-hearted human sympathy, and his 
 great experience of human character. Hence he was equally 
 happy in his addresses to artisans in their Mechanics' Insti- 
 tutes, and in his lectures as President of the Church Institute, 
 or of the Philosophical and Literary Societies, when he spoke 
 to a cultivated audience. Judging from the reports of these 
 addresses, I think it would be true to say that he never failed 
 on the one hand to put his hearers in good humour by exciting 
 their mirth, and on the other, by giving them sound, wise, 
 practical advice, to teach them to be contented with their lot, 
 yet animated by a spirit of honourable ambition ; and above 
 all, to impress upon them the deep, the paramount importance 
 of acquiring a knowledge of religious truth, and of discharging 
 all the duties of life upon religious principles.
 
 468 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 Passages detached from their context necessarily lose a 
 great deal of their force, and it is very difficult, out of so large a 
 choice, to select the best specimens. A very few, culled from 
 a large number of lectures and addresses, are all which can, 
 within my limits, be presented to the reader. 
 
 In his address at the opening of the Mechanics' Institute at 
 Holbeck (a suburb of Leeds), he observed that what men dis- 
 liked was not labour, but only that labour in which they took 
 no interest, or which they were compelled to do against their 
 inclination. 'What tremendous hard work,' he said, 'one 
 class of persons perform — the fox-hunters; they are most 
 laborious men but the secret of the matter is that they call 
 their business pleasure.' 
 
 Speaking as President of the Philosophical Society, he 
 remarked that it could not be complained that there was no 
 demand for serious reading, but he said, 
 
 We do complain that such writers as Robert Montgomery and 
 Martin Tupper should be the representatives of the public taste. 
 The blame lies, not with the manufacturers, but with the consumers. 
 Too frequently a truism adorned with pomp of language, and illus- 
 trated by metaphors evoked from earth, sea, and heaven, is urged 
 as a discovery ; and it is notorious that, while writings of deep 
 thought, however clearly expressed, are not only not circulated, but 
 sometimes actually regarded with suspicion, works filled with 
 pompous truisms are circulated by thousands among whole classes, 
 who have recourse to them because they consider serious reading a 
 duty. 
 
 At the opening of the East Ward Mechanics' Institute, of 
 which he was president, in the course of a long and very able 
 address, he observed : 
 
 When we look at the animal creation we see that God has 
 created large classes of animals gregarious ; they are wretched and 
 miserable if they are left in solitude. It is difficult to say ivhy this 
 is the case, ?.nd I believe that the only reason which can be given 
 is that our benevolent Creator has so ordained it to increase the 
 sum of happiness. Amongst these creatures of our God who are 
 thus constituted, man is one ; man is a social creature, man in
 
 -1859 • LecttLres and Addresses. 469 
 
 solitude pines, becomes miserable and dies. We are social in every- 
 thing we do ; associated to carry on business ; associated for pur- 
 poses of religion ; and indeed without association it is impossible 
 that civilisation can be advanced. We associate also for the pur- 
 poses of amusement and recreation, and so strong is this feeling in 
 human nature that men will associate for evil if they are not asso- 
 ciated for good. If we look to the alehouse, we shall see that it is 
 filled not in the first instance by men who have acquired an appetite 
 for drink, but that generally it has been resorted to for the purposes 
 ol social enjoyment. . . . This being so, the very best thing we can 
 do to counteract these habits of vice is to establish such institutions 
 as the present. . . . But when persons come here they have only 
 taken one step ; there are few who will not be led to seek a higher 
 and a better knowledge than that which is here provided. I see 
 around your walls many mottoes, all of them requiring some know- 
 ledge on the part of those who read them, because while they assert 
 a truth, they do not assert the whole truth. For instance, I see 
 here ' Wisdom is wealth.' There is a sense, no doubt, in which this 
 is true, but we know that all wise men do not become wealthy, for 
 besides wisdom there must be energy and exertion ; neither does 
 wealth, properly speaking, signify riches, but 'well-being' in all 
 that concerns body, soul, and spirit. On the other wall I see the 
 motto ' Knowledge is power, light and happiness ; ' so it is ; but 
 what kind of knowledge ? The knowledge of our duty to ourselves, 
 to our neighbour, and to our God We have subscribed to- 
 gether to afford the means to all classes in this ward to benefit 
 themselves. There is one other object, a most important one ; to 
 promote a cordial understanding, brotherly love, and kindly feeling 
 between these various classes. 
 
 Small though our strength, let each do what he can ; 
 
 Whate'er conduces to the march of mind, 
 Whate'er binds man in closer ties to man. 
 
 Should in each generous heart a patron find. 
 
 These glances, brief and imperfect though they are, at the 
 untiring efforts of the Vicar to improve the moral and the 
 intellectual condition of the working people, and to increase 
 the sum of their happiness and comfort, will enable the reader 
 readily to understand the enthusiasm of their devotion to him, 
 and the extraordinary amount of influence which he could 
 exercise over them. One wlio carefully watched his career
 
 4/0 Life of Walter Farqti-har Hook. 1850- 
 
 froni the beginning, remarks : * His real strength was in the 
 working classes. He was from his first coming to Leeds the 
 working man's Vicar ; he wished to be this, and they recognised 
 the justice of the claim. Popular was he, and few ever more 
 deserved it ; for whatever the special object or occasion, he was 
 always found advocating the interests of the operatives, and was 
 ready with his purse (often far beyond his means), as well as 
 with his pen and his voice, to serve their cause.' 
 
 Their gratitude to him, and their confidence in him were 
 continually being testified in a variety of ways, sometimes 
 pathetic, sometimes amusing, but always striking. On the 
 occasion of the Queen's visit to Leeds to open the new Town 
 Hall in 1858, twenty thousand members of the Friendly 
 Societies who had permission to line the streets during her 
 progress through the town, requested the Vicar to sign an 
 address and present it on their behalf to her Majesty. In his 
 reply to their application the Vicar said : ' That the Friendly 
 Societies of Leeds should have selected me, not only to present 
 the address, but to sign it on their behalf, thereby constituting 
 me as their representative, is esteemed by me as the highest 
 honour I have ever received during the thirty-three years of my 
 residence as a clerg}'man in the manufacturing districts.' But 
 the crowning token of the confidence which the operatives 
 reposed in him was given shortly after this event. There was 
 a strike among the colliers in the neighbourhood of Leeds. 
 They proposed that their claim should be referred to three 
 arbitrators : the first arbitrator to be chosen by the masters, the 
 second by the men, and the third by the Vicar. ' It is a blessed 
 thing,' he writes in a letter to Sir W. P. Wood, ' to have the 
 working people looking to the parson as their friend, and never 
 did anything occur which has given me more pleasure than this 
 transaction.' 
 
 The secret of their attachment to him and confidence in 
 him was to be found primarily in the transparent reality and 
 honesty of his sympathy with them, and the purely disinterested 
 nature of his desire for their welfare. His exertions never 
 savoured of a perfunctory, professional character. They were
 
 -i859 Sympathy with the Poor. ^.yi 
 
 the outgoings of his whole heart to and for the people, and he 
 won their hearts in return. ' I find that wherever I go,' he says 
 in one of his letters, ' for instance to the cheap concerts, when 
 I enter the room there is immediately a cheer of welcome from 
 the gallery, and this reminds me that to get at the working 
 classes we must enter into their amusements. One of my 
 curates found the most unlikely man in his district going to 
 church, to the astonishment of his neighbours. When asked 
 why, he said, " Oh ! I heard Vicar speak at Recreation Society 
 and he seemed a good old chap, and so I thought I'd hear what 
 he had got to say in church." To-morrow I am going to dine 
 with my lodge of Odd Fellows, the Jolly Sailors. I shall be the 
 only gentleman present. I have dined with my brethren in 
 this way for many years, and what they like is to see that I 
 enjoy the thing, which I do ; and do not come in condescension. 
 They are so considerate, by the way, that I have just been 
 writing a note to the secretary to insist upon his not sending a 
 cab for me as they proposed, at the expense of the lodge.' 
 
 And, of course, on these occasions his playful genial mirth, 
 which was so large an element of his nature, found free vent, 
 and contributed in no small degree to charm and captivate the 
 company. It came out also in his intercourse with individuals, 
 as well as whole assemblies of the humbler rank, and was 
 often happily blended with serious advice. The story has 
 often been told of his persuading a drunkard to become a total 
 abstainer without taking the pledge. To show that it was no 
 impossibility he said that he would become an abstainer him- 
 self ' Let us try the plan together for six months,' he said, ' and 
 see how we get on.' 'Ah !' said the man, 'but how is each 
 to know whether the other is keeping his resolution ? ' ' It is 
 easily done,' said the Vicar, 'you come and ask my missus once 
 a month, and I will go and ask yours.' 
 
 On returning from his autumn holiday in 1857, he writes: 
 * The rough Yorkshire greeting is very pleasant. One labour- 
 ing man who met me said, "Joost take this to oblige me," 
 offering me a bunch of flowers he had gathered on a walk into 
 the country. When I demurred he said, " Now do ; for I like
 
 472 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 yer teaching." Another said that he wished I would have a 
 cheap photographic Hkcness taken of myself, and he would 
 hang it up at home. He laughed heartily when I told him I 
 was so ugly that my granddaughter cried at the sight of me. 
 These were strangers to me.' 
 
 If by sacerdotalism be understood the assumption of too 
 much power by the clergy, and a consequent loss of sympathy 
 with the people whom it is their business to influence, from any 
 such error the Vicar of Leeds was utterly free. His power over 
 the people mainly consisted in his being thoroughly one with 
 them. No man ever held the doctrine of the priesthood more 
 firmly than, he did. No man ever more continually bore in 
 mind that he was a parish priest, answerable before God for the 
 souls committed to his care, and that the ultimate aim of all his 
 intercourse with his flock was to bring them nearer to Christ. 
 But this recollection, instead of impairing, only enhanced and 
 sanctified all those strong human sympathies to which he was 
 by nature inclined. If the friend was never forgotten in the 
 priest, the priest was never forgotten in the friend. 
 
 Hence it was that frequently to the end of his life he heard 
 from persons whom he had quite forgotten, or whom he had 
 never known, that something which he had said — it might be in 
 a chance conversation in the street, or in an address at some 
 Mechanics' Institute, or a few words in a sick room — had 
 touched their hearts, led them to reflect, and become the turn- 
 ing-point in their lives. The effect, however, would probably 
 have been transient in a great number of cases had not such 
 persons been very commonly moved, by what they had seen 
 and heard of the Vicar, to become members of one of his classes, 
 or to follow him to the parish church, where by the means of 
 grace, coupled with his teaching, feelings could be trained into 
 principles. 
 
 It must not be supposed because the Vicar, during the last 
 ten years of his residence in Leeds, was frequently engaged in 
 addressing mechanics' institutes, attending meetings of benefit 
 societies, or giving lectures on historical and literary subjects, 
 that the more directly pastoral work was in any degree
 
 -1 859 Early Rising. 473 
 
 diminished. Partly owing to the cessation of controversy after 
 the collapse of St. Saviour's, partly owing to the able assistance 
 of a large staff of curates, he had more leisure to vary the field 
 of his labours ; he endeavoured to ' become all things to all 
 men, that he might by all means save some ; ' and he did 
 not hesitate to resort to any legitimate and innocent means of 
 bringing people within the scope of his influence. But such 
 work as I have been describing was done out of the superfluity 
 of his energy ; it was not suffered to displace or supersede in the 
 smallest degree the round of pastoral labours, which went 
 steadily on, month by month, year by year. All through his 
 journals during this period, week after week may be read the 
 unfailing entry on Monday, ' class at 4, class at 8 ; ' on Thursday, 
 * class at 8 ; ' and during the season of Lent, with very rare 
 exceptions, everyday, 'preached in the parish church.'. The 
 ordinary entry on Sundays is ' preached in the morning and 
 evening at the parish church,' and this is frequently prefaced by 
 the entry 'rose at 4 to write sermon.' 
 
 His habit of early rising was pertinaciously maintained, and, 
 from the entries in his diaries, he seems to have considered his 
 morning very short if he did not get to work before half- past five 
 o'clock. Many who heard him preach a course of sermons at 
 Oxford in 1858 'on the duties of a young pastor,' will remember 
 how earnestly he recommended this practice, and described the 
 advantages of securing those quiet hours, before the practical 
 work of the day began, for reading and meditation, and how the 
 student ' as he listened to the cheerful crackling of the fire lit 
 by his own hands,' would sit down to his books with a clear 
 head refreshed and invigorated by sleep. The reminiscence of 
 one who, during a visit to the Vicarage, peeped into the study 
 at six o'clock in the morning, supplies a characteristic anecdote 
 of the student. It was at a time when he was beginning to be 
 much dissatisfied with the proceedings at St. Saviour's. It was 
 a saint's day, and his guest, a young clergyman, had got up early 
 with the intention of going to Communion there. It was a 
 winter's morning ; 'seeing a light in his study, I looked in and 
 found him hard at work over his books. "Where are you
 
 474 Z^/^ of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 going?" asked the Vicar. "To St. Saviour's," I replied, "ta 
 the early celebration." "You'll see nothing but their backs," 
 he said, and buried himself again in his books.' 
 
 So much has been said about his zeal and his efforts on be- 
 half of the education and social elevation of the humbler ranks^ 
 that it must be borne in mind that he was no less active also in 
 promoting, within the sphere of his influence, the education of 
 the middle classes. His lectures at the Church Institute were 
 given with a view not only to inculcating sound Church princi- 
 ples, but also to infusing a taste for literature and general culture. 
 He earnestly advocated the Oxford middle-class examination 
 scheme, and it was largely through his efforts that steps were 
 taken to remodel the old Grammar School at Leeds in 1854 on 
 a sound basis, and that the practical success of the scheme 
 was secured by the appointment of Dr. Barry (now Principal of 
 King's College, London) to the office of Head Master. 
 
 In April 1858, the foundation-stone of new buildings for the 
 Grammar School was laid by the Bishop of Ripon. A letter in 
 which the Vicar describes the proceedings of that day contains 
 also an account of his own work, and of the position which he 
 then occupied relative to all classes and all parties in the town, 
 and it will form, therefore, a fitting conclusion to this general 
 survey of his life during the last nine years of his ministry. 
 
 To Sir IV. P. Wood. 
 
 April 8, 1858. 
 
 Our Easter passed off in a manner which made me very happy. 
 We had nearly 600 communicants, and the largest congregation in 
 the evening that I had ever seen, and gloriously was the Easter 
 Hymn sung. I preached from the heart, and felt that my words 
 were telling, which is always a happiness, and a kind of happiness 
 which I seldom enjoy out of my own pulpit. 
 
 Easter Tuesday was a busy day. The Bishop laid the founda- 
 tion-stone of the Grammar School, with a beautiful service and an 
 admirable address. We then gave the boys a dinner, to the high 
 table of which subscribers were admitted. I was, of course, in the 
 chair. Barry spoke admirably, and of me personally with such 
 affection, that if I had not been in the chair I should have cried.
 
 -i859 Attachment of the People. 475 
 
 but I gulped down my maudlin with a glass of wine. Then we 
 went to Church, where the Bishop gave us a beautiful sermon, one 
 of those sermons which remain upon my mind. He offered to go 
 in his robes to open the schools, and to say grace for the children. 
 He spoke of me as ' his valued friend the Vicar,' which made my 
 heart, as darling Jim would say, go 'pit-a-pat.' And then, when we 
 were breaking up, my wife was taken by surprise by the presentation 
 to her of a splendid Prayer Book. That wonderful woman has been 
 doing the work of a giantess. 
 
 I have now had seven months of more incessant labour than at 
 any other period of my life. I have, besides all my parochial work, 
 preached, lectured, or made speeches on the average eight times a 
 week, exclusive of cottage lectures ; and I have done this with 
 more ease and satisfaction to myself than at any other time. Pretty 
 well for an old gentleman of sixty. Have I not good ground for 
 thankfulness to our Heavenly Father? I have thrown myself 
 heartily into town work, and have taken an active part in prepara- 
 tion for the British Association. 
 
 The kindness and consideration I have received from all parties 
 and persons have been very cheering. Never was dear old Leeds 
 so united — Dissenters and Radicals have been really on many occa- 
 sions scrupulous in their desire that nothing should occur to annoy 
 me. I like all this, it is one of the enjoyments of old age. All 
 seem to sympathise with a working old man, and such I must 
 appear to most of those who are now active in parish work. When 
 I came here, old men, thinking that by my position I was placed 
 above them, were inclined to snub me, and I am a bad man to be 
 snubbed ; now they show deference to my age. 
 
 That willingness to work for him, that deference paid to him, 
 which arc alluded to at the end of his letter, were among the 
 most practical proofs of the magnetic attraction whereby he 
 drew the hearts of those with whom he had to deal. Active 
 indeed and laborious as he was himself, the success of the work 
 which he accomplished in Leeds could not have been by a 
 hundredth part so complete, had he not been generously and 
 nobly supported in it by his fellow-workers, clerical and lay. 
 The curates looked up to him with a kind of filial and reveren- 
 tial affection. He did not minutely define their work. One of 
 his maxims was that if you wanted anyone to serve you well you
 
 47^ Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 must trust him, and give him free scope to work out his own 
 plans in his own way. Hence he was very careful in selecting 
 men whom he believed to be sound in principle, and then he 
 handed over to them the charge ol certain districts, and did not 
 interfere with them in any of the details of their work. The 
 curate could rely upon the sympathy and advice ot his Vicar in 
 all cases of difficulty and upon his hearty support and encourage- 
 ment in all undertakings, provided they were consistent with 
 the principles of the Church ; but he knew very well that if he 
 was not loyal to those principles the wrath of the Vicar would 
 ■come down upon him with the force of a sledge hammer. 
 'When I engaged a curate,' he once said to me, 'I used to 
 bargain with him : " I do not care for what you think^ and you 
 may discuss with me in private matters of opinion ; but we must 
 tuork upon a common principle, and if you think it your duty 
 not to do what I require, or take part against me, I shall consider 
 you bound, without any violation of our friendship, to resign. 
 There must be unity of action. And as the top sawyer is 
 immovable, when the time for separation comes, the under 
 sawyer must retire. " ' 
 
 In early days, before the division of the parish, the districts 
 assigned to each curate were necessarily very large. One, who 
 was curate from 1840 to 1842, writes to me: 'The day after 
 I arrived, the Vicar said, " Come with me and I will show you 
 your district." It was the York Road. An upper room for a 
 school was the only stronghold of the Church. He said, 
 "There's your district ; there are 12,000 people in it. Do your 
 best, and when you are in difficulty come to me. Open the 
 front door and knock at the study door." I soon had to find 
 my way to the Vicarage. " Oh ! Mr. Vicar, it is all over, I 
 have got into such a scrape." He laughed and rubbed his hands 
 and said, "That's capital ; it will do you good ; just the very 
 best thing that could have happened to you."' 
 
 'Incumbents,' he used to say, 'talk about my curate ; the 
 phrase is wrong both in law and idea ; the curate is the curate 
 of the parish.' His relation to the curates was half-brotherly, 
 half-fotherly ; the younger ones turned, and never in vain, to
 
 - 1 859 Lay Helpei^s. 477 
 
 Mrs. Hook for affectionate maternal sympathy and counsel ; 
 they were for the most part as elder brothers to her children ; 
 and the Sunday evenings, when all the curates came to supper, 
 were like the weekly gatherings of a large family ; and on the 
 evening of Christmas Day the Vicarage was a scene of exube- 
 rant and childlike mirth and frolic, in which the Vicar himself 
 was the leading spirit and actor. 
 
 And amongst the laity, in like manner, there was never 
 wanting a large number of men of wealth and influence who 
 were staunch and loyal to him and to the Church, who were 
 ready to back him up by every means in their power and on 
 all possible occasions. Such were pre-eminently the two Mr. 
 Halls, father and son, Mr. Christopher Beckett, Mr. William. 
 Gott, Mr. Horsfall, Mr. James Garth Marshall, Mr. John 
 Hope Shaw, Mr. Wheatley, and many more ; and last must be 
 mentioned — although in some respects foremost of all — Mr, 
 Joseph Mason Tennant, one of the most humble-minded 
 Christians who ever lived ; a man who shrank from notoriety 
 but never shrank from duty, and was always ready to discharge 
 the onerous and troublesome tasks which no one else would 
 do, taking no credit to himself Referring to his indefatigable 
 labours as one of the secretaries of the Building Committee, 
 the Vicar was accustomed to say, ' Joe Tennant really built 
 the parish church.' It might also with truth have been said 
 that he supported it after it had been built, for in the capacity 
 of Vicar's churchwarden he for many years undertook the whole 
 responsibility of raising the necessary annual amount for the 
 repair of the fabric, and other church expenses. 
 
 Although the last nine years of the Vicar's residence in 
 Leeds were years of great happiness and prosperity, yet the 
 long strain of toil was beginning to tell upon him, in spite of 
 his robust constitution and elasticity of spirits. He was accus- 
 tomed to say that it is not work which wears life, but worry : 
 and that in'the last decade of his ministry at Leeds he felt the 
 effects of all the worry, the turmoil, and the strife by which the 
 first decade had been marked. There was little, if any, visible 
 diminution of strength, and the round of work was manfully
 
 478 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. i8i;o- 
 
 kept up with unabating zeal and perseverance ; but all through 
 this period, more especially as he approaches the age of three- 
 score, in the entries in his journals and letters to friends he 
 frequently complains of extreme fatigue, depression of spirits, 
 and intense longings for retirement. He deprecated all pre- 
 ferment involving hard labour, such as popular rumour was 
 constantly assigning to him, when bishopric after bishopric fell 
 vacant and he was passed over. There were only two things 
 which he wanted, rest and money. He was weary and poor. 
 His private means were small, and the annual income of the 
 living, which for some time had been reduced by the division 
 of the parish, was often more than consumed in family ex- 
 penses, in paying a large staff of curates, and contributing with 
 reckless generosity to works of charity and Church extension. 
 
 Rest came at length in a form most congenial to him. But 
 money came not. The Deanery of Chichester, which was 
 offered to him by Lord Derby in February 1859, is one of the 
 poorest deaneries in England, and he consequently remained a 
 poor man to the end of his life. 
 
 The account of his departure from Leeds and settlement at 
 Chichester must be reserved for another chapter. To fill in 
 and colour the foregoing sketch of his work, besides the group 
 of letters which will form the appendage to this chapter like all 
 the rest, I have introduced some extracts from his journal, 
 which was regularly kept from 1850 to 1859, and some short 
 scraps gleaned from a variety of letters which are not of suffi- 
 cient importance to be inserted whole. 
 
 To his JVi/e, diirmg the dajigerous Illness of their Daughter^ 
 
 Mrs. Alison. 
 
 February 1850. 
 
 My heart is constantly with you ; devote yourself to our darling 
 child. Be sure that I will for your sake take care of myself. I will 
 be so good, I will indeed. I broke down yesterday in the ' prayer 
 for all conditions of men.' I rallied directly, but still when once I 
 have broken down, I am tearful for a long time. I have therefore 
 stayed in and kept quiet to-day, writing Ecclesiastical Biography, 
 which greatly employs me. I have placed all in the hands of our
 
 -i8s9 Extracts from yoiirnal. 479 
 
 Heavenly Father, who has been so merciful to us, and then what- 
 ever happens will be right. 
 
 February 25. — Slept till six. Then wrote sermon. A most 
 busy morning — incessantly interrupted. My head beyond measure 
 distracted. These callers ought to spare me in Lent. Class at 
 three, and lectured for an hour. So poorly I could not go to 
 afternoon service, preached in the evening and then had another 
 class. 
 
 March 8. — This has been a brilliant day. I wrote serrnons from 
 six till four, and so have got on well with my work. Three sermons 
 written this day ; preached in the evening. 
 
 Good Friday, March 29. — Rose at 5. Morning spent in reading 
 and meditation. A sermon by Alban Butler, full of fancies and not 
 edifying ; then Baxter's ' Saint's Rest.' A little put out by an in- 
 solent letter from B , another from Walter Farquhar objecting 
 
 to my letter,^ and another from Richard Cavendish urging me not 
 to publish. But by the grace of God got my mind calm, though 
 not so fervent in my devotion as I expected to be. N.B. Never 
 open a letter again on Good Friday. Preached with fervour in the 
 evening. Then read St. Augustine on St. John to get my mind 
 ready for Easter sermons. 
 
 Friday, May 10. — Up at 5, heavy and stupid. Reading almost 
 the whole day, Bull, Sherlock, Stillingfleet, Waterland, Newman, 
 Athanasius, to get my mind filled with thoughts of the Holy Trinity 
 to prepare my Trinity sermons. Preached in the evening. 
 
 Wedftesday, May 1 5. — Writing sermon ; anxious to get my 
 charity sermons finished this week. Visited the sick. During the 
 anthem at church this afternoon fervour of devotion returned. God 
 grant that it may last ! 
 
 Saturday, October 5. — Wrote Ecclesiastical Biography. Read 
 conclusion of Lord Mansfield's life of Campbell, and Lord Redes- 
 dale's life by Townsend. Visited sick. Nervous about my letter,^ 
 which appeared to-day in the papers. I am very bold in loading a 
 gun, bold enough in firing it, but when I hear the report, then I am 
 like a child, who runs away in terror. 
 
 Saturaay, October 12. — Wrote my sermon for to-morrow morning 
 with much fervour, obliged to write some copy of Ecclesiastical 
 
 ' On the Gorham Judgment. 
 
 2 To the Secretaries of the Church Union.
 
 480 Life of Walter Farqithar Hook. 1850- 
 
 Biography, the printer's devil waiting. This put me out. After 
 dinner felt discontented with tlie sermon I wrote for to-morrow 
 evening and wrote another. My literary labour this day, two ser- 
 mons and Ecclesiastical Biography, is too much. 
 
 Sunday, November 24. — Preached morning and evening. Some 
 fervour in the morning. Oh ! how my soul longeth after God ! Oh 
 that I might go away to some peaceful place, and prepare for my 
 change ! 
 
 yaniiary I, 185 1. — As soon as clock had struck twelve, we sang 
 ' Praise God, from whom all blessings flow,' and then we ad- 
 ministered the Holy Communion to 300 communicants, ten clergy- 
 men assisting. Employed morning in writing life of Ridley. I 
 begin this year under the deepest depression of spirits ; very 
 miserable indeed. The public affairs of the Church, and especially 
 the wretched business at St. Saviour's, make me very melancholy, 
 O God ! my God, be with me ! Forgive me the sins of the year 
 past for the sake of Jesus Christ, and oh ! give me happiness under 
 a sense of pardon, peace, and reconciliation with thee. Bless, oh 1 
 bless the Church of England. 
 
 February 16, Septuagesiina Sunday. — Preached morning and 
 evening. I beg most thankfully to record that the fervour of de- 
 votion, which I had lost for some months, has returned within the 
 last ten days. O my God, never, never let me depart from Thee ! 
 
 February 20. — Writing Church Dictionary for 12 hours, with a 
 slight interruption by a call from Lady Harewood and Lady Louisa 
 Lascelles. At work again in evening. 
 
 February 24, Monday. — Cold very bad ; up at 5, to write Church 
 Dictionarjr; preached at 11, class at 4. Visited sick; class at 8. 
 Knocked up at night. 
 
 Easier Day. — A blessed and glorious day, — I was much excited 
 this morning ; an immense communion. Preached morning and 
 evening ; much fatigued. The church crammed morning and 
 evening. May the Lord God bless us ! 
 
 July 14. — Wrote Ecclesiastical Biography all the morning till 
 12, when I went to Committee. Then home to Ecclesiastical 
 Biography. Mr. Knott, the new vicar of St. Saviour's, called. He 
 would not talk, and I was determined to be silent, so that for the 
 better part of twenty minutes we sat and looked at each other. Class 
 at 4 and again at 8. 
 
 December 29, Mo7iday. — Writing semion ; visited sick. Class at 
 4, tea party to my evening class at 5, when, to my great astonish-
 
 -1 859 Extracts from yoiirnal. 481 
 
 ment, they gave me a Prayer Book splendidly bound. May God 
 requite them for their kindness to me ! 
 
 Jamiary 3, 1852. — A quiet day, spent in writing from 5 in the 
 morning till 4 in the afternoon— Sermon, Ecclesiastical Biography, 
 and articles for Dictionary. Time pleasantly passed ; at 4 visited 
 sick. In the evening with my dear family, all my darling children 
 with me. 
 
 January 6. — Read life of Waterland. To church at 10 for 
 wedding, the full service. I preached, it having been arranged 
 that this should be the concluding service of the Jubilee.^ We shall 
 send the Society upwards of 1,000/. I came home tired and feel 
 altogether unwell. Took a walk with Anna, and finished Van 
 Mildert's ' Waterland.' In the evening I danced a quadrille with 
 my six children — no fool like an old one. 
 
 Good Friday. — Wrote sermon, preached morning and evening. 
 Fell asleep between the services, fasting not suiting me. The 
 labours of Lent are over. I have been able to preach every day 
 but two. Am I a more advanced Christian this Lent than I was 
 last .'' My conscience will not permit me to answer in the affirm- 
 ative. But O Thou Searcher of hearts, Thou knowest how earnestly 
 1 desire to be sanctified. O Jesus, my crucified Saviour, make me 
 love Thee more ! 
 
 March 2, 1853. — All morning consumed in writing letters, 
 dreadful nuisance; preached in evening. A letter from Robert, 
 very angry that I am not Bishop of Lincoln. Wood knows that I 
 have determined to refuse a bishopric if offered. A man of fifty-five 
 must not increase his responsibility. 
 
 March 26, Easter Eve. — Wrote two sermons this day, preached 
 in the morning, but stayed at home in the evening to write my 
 second sermon for to-morrow. Very, very tired. During the whole 
 of this Lent, we have had bad weather. 
 
 Easter Day. — Preached morning and evening. Upwards of 500 
 communicants. An immense congregation in the evening. Alto- 
 gether it has been a happy Easter Day, though my soul has not 
 been so much elevated as it has sometimes been. I am indeed 
 very much knocked up by my Lent work. O my God and Saviour, 
 have mercy upon me ! May the love of God be shed abroad in my 
 heart. 
 
 June 6, Winchester. — This morning passed happily with James. 
 
 ' Of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. 
 I I
 
 482 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 Thence to the Isle of Wight. Roamed mournfully over my old 
 parish — like talking through a graveyard ; every house a monument. 
 But oh ! how beautiful is this place ! Oh for a cottage in the dear 
 Island ! 
 
 Decembcj' 2. — Dr. is dangerously ill. He has been an in- 
 cessant enemy of mine. Oh ! how I should like to receive a kind 
 message from him ! 
 
 December 26. — Dr. 's son called on me and asked me to go 
 
 to his father. Found him very thin and ill. Told me he was con- 
 scious that his feelings and conduct had not been towards me what 
 they ought to have been for many years : and he wished to ask my 
 forgiveness. I told him that whenever there was a quarrel there were 
 sure to be faults on both sides, and that there must be no question 
 as to the more or less, but that the forgiveness must be mutual. 
 I kissed his hand, and we wept and prayed together. O God, 
 have mercy on him and me for Jesus' sake ! I have had a 
 taste of Heaven, where part of our joy will surely consist in our 
 reconciliations. 
 
 1854. February 5, Sunday. — Preached morning and evening. 
 The churchwardens refused to permit the organ to be enlarged, and 
 I have been obliged to defy them. I told them that I had had 
 Dissenter churchwardens and got on well with them, and Chartists 
 and got on well with them, and that I am not going to be bullied 
 by Evangelicals. Told them that I meant to enlarge viy organ in 
 my church, and that they have nothing to do with my freehold. If 
 I interfere with the convenience of the parishioners they may pro- 
 ceed against me in the Ecclesiastical Court. They seemed alarmed 
 and ashamed. 
 
 Scpteviber 5. — The visit of the Bishop of New Zealand has 
 been eminently successful. But the news of my grand-daughter's 
 arrival into the world having come in the morning so much added 
 to my pleasurable excitement that I had a difficulty all day to 
 keep from crying. Indeed, during the services I had many a quiet 
 little cry. God make me mindful of my latter end ! I have lived 
 to see my children's children. God grant that I may also see 
 peace upon Israel ! Rather aristocratic at our services. Lord 
 Carlisle, the Harewoods, (S:c., present and lunched with me after- 
 wards. 
 
 September 6. — Had nearly 200 shopkeepers to tea to meet the 
 Bishop, together with the clergy. Sent the Bishop away with 224/. 
 collected at meeting.
 
 -iS59 Extracts from J on ma l. 483 
 
 1855. February 28. — Soup-kitchen has been opened to-day. 
 Eleven hundred loaves have been given. ^ 
 
 September- 16, Sioiday. — Preached morning and evening on the 
 victor)\ Large congregations : excited and nervous. Tried to 
 show that the blessing of peace is always attended with evil, and 
 that the evil of war is often accompanied by blessings. The first is 
 not unalloyed good, nor the second unmitigated evil. As a stoiTn 
 is necessary to clear the air, so a war is sometimes necessary to 
 ■clear the moral atmosphere and to prevent luxury from dege- 
 nerating into effeminacy. 
 
 Monday 17. — Very tired. Did not rise till half-past five. Read 
 all day the ' Words of the Lord Jesus,' by Stier. In the afternoon 
 prepared for the illumination. My transparency was ' Old England 
 for ever ! ' with a V. R. beneath, which some of the people took 
 for Vicar (R)ook. Walked out with wife and Charlotte to see the 
 illuminations; generally saluted as ' Old^ Vicar or '• OW Doctor. 
 A band came with a mob to the \'icarage, and cheered me and 
 played a psalm tune. 
 
 The tune alluded to was the ' Old Hundredth ; ' the Vicar, 
 in his ignorance of music, mistook this for ' God save the 
 Queen,' and, appearing at a window, cheered lustily, to the 
 inexpressible amusement of the assembly. 
 
 1856. February 15. — Wrote sermon: preached in the evening. 
 1 declined signing the petition against opening the Ciystal Palace 
 on Sundays. I am convinced that it is a hypocritical movement 
 on the part of the instigators, influencing the passions of the pious. 
 
 March 22, Easter Eve. — Up at half-past three to write my 
 two sermons for to-morrow. I could not during the former part 
 ■of this melancholy week raise my spirits to write an Easter 
 sermon. 
 
 Easter /Ay.— Up at fi\e, as a new idea struck me in the night, 
 and so I wrote a new sermon. A blessed festival ; very large 
 communion ; immense crowd in the evening. 
 
 Easter Monday. — Dreadfully knocked up ; did not rise till 
 eight. Brain being excited 1 kept myself quiet all day and read 
 light books. Presided at great tea-party at Grannnar School of 
 Sunday School teachers in the evening. 
 
 ' There was great distress in Leeds this year on account of the depression 
 n trade caused by the Crimean war. 
 
 I I 2
 
 484 Life of Walter Fmujiihar Hook. 1850- 
 
 Jiinc 15, Sunday. — Preached twice at Chapel Royal. Tlien 
 went to Hampstead. On reaching liome found a note from the 
 Duke of Newcastle telling me he and the Duke of Cambridge had 
 heard with admiration my ' Lord's Day ' sermon in the morning, 
 and asking me to meet his Royal Highness and the Crimean 
 heroes at dinner to-morrow. 
 
 Monday., i6. — Dined with Duke of Newcastle. The Duke of 
 Cambridge thanked me for yesterday's sermon, and talked of his 
 attendance at the parish church when he was quartered at Leeds. 
 I was introduced to Lord Aberdeen, and Sir Edmund Lyons asked 
 the Duke to introduce me. I sat at dinner next to Sir H. Rawlinson, 
 the traveller. Never saw so many stars and ribands before. 
 
 October \. — Studied 119th Psalm in Augustine, Hengstenberg, 
 Calvin, Jebb, &c. People have sent me a ' Morning Post ' in which 
 there is a kind article upon me — more than I desen-e. 1 have 
 examined my heart. I have no ambition left. I do not want to go 
 up — but to go down. I should like a country living. I thank God 
 for His wonderful mercies to me. How wicked 1 should be if I 
 were not contented in a place which hundreds would delight to 
 have ! 
 
 Saturday., October 18. — While I was at Church tlie Bishop 
 called to bid us farewell.' He left me his blessing. May thc- 
 blessing of a good God go with him 1 I have been but an un- 
 dutiful son to the good Bishop sometimes, but I have loved him 
 and honoured him as he must be loved and honoured by all who 
 know him. God send us a successor who may tread in his steps ! 
 
 November 5. . . . Called at Mr. Stone's, the artist, who wanted 
 to see me to colour the photograph. Terrible ugly fellow I am. 
 Can't help it. Would be other than 1 am in many things if 1 
 could. 
 
 To a Friend. — December. — Although I am quite contented here 
 I think that it would be better for the Church if a younger man were 
 in my place, and I cannot help thinking that a stall in a Cathedral 
 would be well bestowed upon me ; a stall at Westminster or St. 
 Paul's would be the thing I should like. 1 should prefer that to a 
 deaner)', because a deanery to a conscientious man would be a very 
 difficult post ; and a man of three-score is not a tit man to begin as 
 a reformer. 
 
 1 Bishop Longley had just been translated to Durham, and it was very 
 generally supposed that the Bishopric of Ripon would have been offered to 
 Dr. Hook.
 
 -1 859 Extracts from yoiLrnal. 485 
 
 On the appointment of Dr. Bickcrsteth to Bishopric of Ripon. — 
 This is the first time that I have been placed under a Bishop 
 younger than myself. He is almost young enough to be my son. It 
 is difficult, therefore, at tirst to produce yf//^?/ feelings towards him, 
 but they will come. 
 
 1857. — In the ?klanchester Exhibition a man came up to me and 
 asked, ' Am I speaking to Dr. Raffles of Liverpool .'' ' ' No,' said 
 I indignantly, ' but I presume that you are Cardinal Wiseman.' 
 
 November 3. — They sent me last night the subject for my 
 speech (at soiree of Mechanics' Institute). Soon after breakfast 
 Brougham called. He was quite affectionate. I dined with the 
 Mayor at 3.30. Brougham is old and did not talk much. Dean of 
 Ripon, Monckton Milnes, the two Baines's, Forster, Kitson, and 
 the ordinary' run of mechanics men at dinner. Then to the Music 
 Hall ; Brougham well received, but certainly did not speak with 
 power. The beginning of his speech was not merely twaddle, but 
 delivered in perfect ignorance of what has occurred during the last 
 ten years. But all of a sudden he said, ' I suppose you would like 
 to hear my opinion of Indian aftairs,' and then he did burst forth with 
 some of his old eloquence. I was very well recei\ed, which, as it 
 was not my own dunghill, gratified me. I seem to have spoken 
 ■\\ ell, which I certainly did not think myself 
 
 Wednesday., 4. — Breakfasted with Kitson to meet Lord 
 Brougham. The moment he entered the room he rushed up to me 
 as if he were going to embrace, and exclaimed ' Oh ! let me again 
 and again and again thank you for your speech last night. It was 
 the cleverest, the wisest, the most practical, the drollest speech I 
 ever heard in my life. Seeing me perplexed as to the drollery, he 
 added, 'the admirable mixture of the seria cum jocis.^ I am too 
 old to be spoilt by flattery, and I have no inclination to become an 
 orator, and so I am glad to have this encouragement given me. I 
 hope it will save me from the extreme nervousness which makes 
 me ill for two or three days before the delivery of a speech, and 
 leaves me weary and weak after its birth. 
 
 To a Friend. — Brougham told me old stories at lireakfast, but 
 sometimes missed the point, evidently forgetting himself I was 
 amused with one remark. He said, ' Wherever I go I am called 
 the veteran statesman, the 7'ctcran orator, the veteran eveiything.' 
 I don't see much point in the epithet, and it is not in very good 
 taste to remind a man every moment that his day has ])assed. 
 But 1 was touched soon after, when a wish was expressed by
 
 486 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1850- 
 
 soineone that he would come next year, to the meeting of the 
 British Association, as he muttered to himself, ' 1 never dare look 
 forward a year.' 
 
 Septemderj, 1858. — Writing to a friend on the Queen's visit to 
 Leeds to open the new Town Hall : ' Amidst it all I lacked my 
 old enthusiasm, and suffered somewhat from rheumatism. I must 
 own to a little mortification at first at being entirely superseded on 
 niy own dungliill. The Bishop said the Prayer and spoke at the 
 Banquet. But this nasty feeling soon gave way when I found him 
 doing everything so much better than I could have done it myself.' 
 
 After mceiiiig of British Association in the same month at 
 Leeds. — Have greatly enjoyed the respect paid to me by the 
 scientific men, and the pleasure of their society ; but while ' jolly 
 in society,' I have been dreadfully depressed when left to myself, 
 my mind morbid, excitable- and irritable. I cannot help thinking, 
 though it may be morbid, that I am too old for the constant excite- 
 ments to which I am exposed here. The moment that one thing is 
 o\er, another comes on. My parochial and Sunday duties are a 
 great drag upon the mind, for the congregations are larger than 
 ever, and other things, when this is the case, tell upon mc. 
 
 After an inaugural address given in the Philosophical In.sti- 
 tute at Edinburgh on November 5, on the comparative advan- 
 tages of a professional and liberal education, he writes : 
 
 The committee found it necessary to leave their own lecture- 
 room and to engage the Music Hall, which was filled with 1,300 
 people. I entered the room between two M.P.'s, and was sur- 
 rounded by innumerable Scotch Professors .... they were most 
 cordial to me in their thanks. This is cheering to me, as I took 
 some pains with the subject and read through all the controversies 
 on Universities from the beginning of the century. The only 
 thing I regretted was not being able to stay longer in Edinburgh. 
 But I had to come back for two sermons yesterday and to pre- 
 side this evening at our annual tea-party of the Sunday-school 
 Teachers' Association, 1,200 in number. To-morrow I have to 
 preside at the Philosophical Hall, to attend lecture at the Church 
 Institute, and to look in with a speech at the end of the evening at 
 the West End Mechanics' Institute, as they are short of speakers. 
 Next day I have to lay the first stone of a new school, with a speech. 
 This is rather too much for a sexagenarian, and I can assure you I
 
 -1 859 Extracts from yotinial. 487 
 
 long intensely for a country living with a garden and a poultry-yard. 
 As six days are appointed for labour and a seventh for rest, so there 
 are six decades in life for work ; the last should be a sabbath, 
 admitting of works of charity and necessity. 
 
 In fact he was getting worn out. In December he writes : 
 
 I have applied to Lord Carnarvon for a living in Hampshire 
 without success ; it was already promised. I would not ask for any- 
 thing better than Leeds ; but I think a man may wish to come 
 down in the world. We both of us long to be relieved, not from 
 li'ork^ but from the weight of responsibility which rests upon us in 
 this place. 
 
 But when the offer of the Deanery came, he was heart 
 broken at the thought of leaving his beloved parish, as the 
 following extracts from his journal show. 
 
 February 15, 1859. — Preached at Goldsbrough. Lord and Lady 
 Harewood there, George Lascelles and Lady Louisa, Egremont 
 Lascelles and wife, &c. A pleasant reunion. Then home to Leeds, 
 where found letter from Lord Derby offering me Deanery of 
 Chichester. Cannot bear the thought of leaving dear old Leeds. 
 What am I to do .'' God guide me ! 
 
 February 16. — Sleepless night. Determined to accept Deanery 
 — wrote to Lord Derby. Then to Halifax, where I gave lecture to 
 Church Institute, and returned much knocked up. 
 
 February 18. — Very poorly all day; veiy ungrateful; instead 
 of rejoicing at Deaner)', miserable at the thought of leaving Leeds. 
 Drank tea with Mr. Reynolds, Dissenting minister. Edward 
 Baines there. 
 
 Februaty 19. — Told Mr. Hall about the Deanery, which is not 
 yet in the papers. Pretty well known. People cry when they 
 meet me. Dear, dear Leeds ! 
 
 February 20, Swiday. — Preached morning and evening. Nearly 
 broke down in giving the final benediction. 
 
 While the foregoing fragments of his journal and letters 
 fairly illustrate the nature and quantity of his practical work 
 month by month, I ought to add that they give no idea of the 
 variety of books which he read. Besides his favourite standard 
 theologians of the Anglican school, and the Fathers, chiefly St.
 
 488 Life of Walier Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 Augustine and Chrysostom, whom he was constantly consulting 
 with a view to his sermons, he read at spare times, especially 
 in his holidays, and in railway journeys, a great deal of philo- 
 sophy, chiefly Sir William Hamilton, Dugald Stewart, and 
 Kant ; English history, chiefly Hallam (of whom, however, he 
 had a poor opinion) and Macaulay ; also biographies, novels, 
 and poetry in great abundance. Moreover, the compilation of 
 his * Church Dictionary ' and ' Dictionary of Ecclesiastical 
 Biography ' entailed a large quantity of multifarious reading. 
 
 LETTERS, 1 850- 1859. 
 
 To IV. P. lV(wd, Esq. — Adniissioii of flic ycivs to Parlia)nciit 
 — Appointment to Ecclesiastical Offices. 
 
 October 19, 1850. 
 
 The evil you alluded to refers to tlie appointment to the highest 
 ecclesiastical offices. 
 
 I hope and believe that ere long the Jews will be admitted into 
 Parliament. After the repeal of the Test Act there is no theory of 
 the Constitution violated by their admission, and there can be no 
 practical evil ; therefore they ought, in my opinion, to be admitted. 
 But if a Jew may be in Parliament, a Jew may be Minister. I put 
 this as an extreme case, but still a possible case. 
 
 Ought a Jew to have, uncontrolled, the appointment to ecclesi- 
 astical offices ? 
 
 When the Sovereign disposed of the ecclesiastical offices there 
 was the guarantee arising from the fact that the Sovereign must be 
 a professed member of the Church. 
 
 Even this, slight protection as it is, would not be the case when 
 the office of Prime Minister is open to the Jew, and the Prime 
 Minister, very properly, has in his power the patrbnage of the 
 Crown. 
 
 The question is how can you preserve this power to the Prime 
 Minister and yet guard against its abuse ? How give to him a 
 sufficient power and yet satisfy reasonable men in the Church .' 
 Suppose, when a Minister takes office, he were to select two out of 
 the Bench of Bishops, and make them respectively Clerk of the
 
 -i859 Letters, 1 850-1 859. 489 
 
 ■Closet, and Deputy Clerk of the Closet. (I mention these as titles 
 existing and as having little meaning in themselves.) Let these be 
 Privy Councillors, and let it be understood that the Minister would 
 never appoint to ecclesiastical offices without first consulting them. 
 Should we not then satisfy all parties, except the blockheads ? 
 The Minister would still have the patronage and power, but he 
 would have professional advice. 1 would not propose that he 
 should consult the Archbishop and the Bishop of London, because 
 they might not be of his party. Let the Minister choose his two 
 advisers, let them come into office and go out with him. You will 
 say what should we gain thereby, as they would wish to prefer the 
 same sort of persons as the Ministers. This must of course be the 
 case, or you take the power from the Minister. 
 
 But the real check on all parties in this country is pulilic 
 opinion. But the public opinion which influences a politician is 
 different from the public opinion which influences an ecclesiastic. 
 The Minister may sometimes like to do what is offensive to the 
 Church because it will please his part)'. But an ecclesiastic, 
 kjioiun to be the ach'iser of the Afwister in such matters^ though 
 willing to aid his political party, would not like to be a proscribed 
 man in his profession. I say, known to be the adviser of the 
 Minister, for the advice given in private, without a sense of re- 
 sponsibility, is very different from that given by those who will be 
 brought to the bar of public opinion. 
 
 7> 11'. J'. ]\'()od Esq. — TJic Ediication of the People. 
 
 December 3, 1850. 
 
 I wish to consult you on a subject to which I think you have 
 not yet opened your eyes sufficiently wide : I mean education. 
 
 When I was in Alanchester a fortnight ago one of Mr. Ansons 
 "best friends and advisers, a good Churchman and a man of import- 
 ance, told me that from his position he had to converse with all sorts 
 of men, and that he found that the Lancashire .School Scheme with 
 Cobden at its head is almost universally in favour with the people 
 in that part of the country. He remarked to me that if the Church 
 gave a ' cold back ' unreasoningly and perversely to all educational 
 movements, the education of the people would be taken virtually out 
 *.A the hands of the Church, and he wished me to lliink of some 
 mode of meeting this evil. 
 
 Since my return home I find that this Lancasliiic system has
 
 490 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 gaincd ground in Yorkshire. We iiave a Yorkshire Education 
 Society, which has as yet done nothing, though it is professedly 
 estabHshed to carry out the Government scheme. The real men, 
 the men in earnest in this Society, such as James Marshall and 
 others, are desirous of a conference with Cobdcn, and wish the 
 conference to be attended by all sorts of men, including myself 
 .... Now, I want to know whether you think as I think — that 
 Cobden is honest in this matter. I mean whether he has, as I have, 
 really at heart an efficient education for the people, giving to the 
 teachers of religion free access to the people, or whether it is a 
 mere political movement on his part. If he is an honest man, 
 willing to concede where concession is reasonable, I see no reason 
 why I should not meet him if James Marshall asks us to a private 
 dinner party to talk the subject over. 
 
 In discussing the matter at Manchester, Mr. Durnfoid, who is 
 the leading High Churchman in the neighbourhood, told me that 
 my fault had been that I was in advance of the age ; and, curiously 
 enough, the secretary of the Yorkshire Society said to Mr. Jackson,. 
 ' Dr. Hook was in advance of the age, but the age is now getting in 
 advance of him, though the friends of education feel that deference 
 is due to his opinion.' This was a sop of flattery, but the fact is 
 observable. And what do you think is the great objection to, the 
 plan I proposed, omitting the details .'' The promoters of the 
 Lancashire plan say to me, ' Your plan is a very good one ; but 
 then you insist on everyone receiving a religious education ; but 
 why might not the infidel, the man who thinks it wrong to preju- 
 dice the mind of his child to any religion, send that chi4d to a 
 Government school ? ' 
 
 Now you will observe here that infidelity has taken a new 
 shape. It is a sect, demanding to be tolerated. I say a sect, for 
 it has its regular preachers, teaching morality, especially prudence, 
 temperance, and domestic virtue, apart from and in bitter hostility 
 to religion. 
 
 In the next place the evil which I wished to avert is coming tO' 
 pass. And if we do not look about us, depend upon it, we shall 
 have secular schools established by Government and controlled by 
 the ratepayers, to which we shall be denied access. If we had 
 moved first, our offer might have been liberal, but we should have 
 gained the control of the schnr)ls. Our fight will now be to escape 
 being excluded. 
 
 Dissenters have misenil)ly failed in edurating. They see that
 
 -i859 Letters, 1 850- 1 859. 491 
 
 the Church beats them. They will join the rising movement — all 
 but the really religious among them. The Church has done much, 
 but that much is little compared with the real wants of the people. 
 
 After the Bishop of Ripon's investigation into the teaching 
 and practice of the Clergy at St. Saviour's in December 1850,. 
 as related above, a former vicar of St. Saviour's wrote to the 
 Bishop asserting that Dr. Hook had held in 1845 the same 
 opinions touching Confession which were now condemned at 
 St. Saviour's. The aim of the assertion was to insinuate that 
 either he was inconsistent, or that if consistent, he ought to fall 
 under the same condemnation as that which had just been 
 pronounced upon the clergy of St. Saviour's. 
 
 This charge drew forth three letters of indignant vindication 
 from the Vicar to the Bishop : from which the following pas- 
 sages are extracted. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : January 30, 1851. 
 
 ... In this large and extensive parish many persons have, 
 from time to time, ' opened their griefs to me ' and sought from me 
 'ghostly counsel and advice.' Persons have come to consult me 
 from distant places. The duty is a most unpleasant one, from 
 which, while always ready to discharge it when called upon, I 
 shrink, from an unaffected feeling of my own incompetency to dis- 
 charge it properly. I frequently have directed people to seek other 
 advice, and sometimes that of laymen, as in the case of children 
 whom I have referred to their parents, husbands to wives and wives 
 to husbands. 
 
 From my own experience of this portion of the ministerial 
 office I should arrange those who come to a clergyman for advice 
 under the following heads : — 
 
 1. Persons who have their consciences burdened with great 
 sins. 
 
 2. Persons of unsound mind, morbid feelings, or heated imagi- 
 nation. 
 
 J. Persons of scrupulous conscience, and not of strong intellect. 
 
 4. Persons who, from the circumstances of the times, have a 
 vague idea that they ought to confess. 
 
 Now, with respect to the first class of persons, theirs is a case, 
 sometimes, of difficulty, because great distress of mind does not 
 always piKjvc the existence of true repentance ; and where there is
 
 492 Life of Walter FarqiiJiar Hook. 1850- 
 
 faith to be justified, true repentance must exist. And here, kh), 
 when habits of sin have been formed, it is necessary to sec tlic 
 penitents often. 
 
 My way of dealing" with llie second class of persons is to keep 
 them under rather strict discipline for some time, during which 
 time I endeavour to employ their minds by making them study 
 books which will require attention and task their intellectual 
 powers. . . . 
 
 The system I adopt is simply that of the Church ot England, 
 which would discountenance the jiabit of confession. Many per- 
 sons liave opened their griefs to me : I have sometimes had six or 
 eight cases of conscience before me, and then, on the other hand, 
 for many months not one. I doubtless had some other cases in 1845, 
 
 when Mr. came to me, and not one of them remains with me at 
 
 the present time ; and for this plain reason, that when I have given 
 them advice or comfort, and have put them in the way of regulating 
 their own minds, I dismiss them. I tell them to come to me no 
 jTiore, or to come to me only when new doubts, difficulties, or per- 
 plexities occur to them. But the Romish system adopted by Mr. 
 
 and his friends being the reverse in principle is also the reverse in its 
 effects. JTt' assist people in their difficulties and sorrows, but when 
 we liave assisted them, tell them to confess to God alone, and no 
 longer to come to us. But tliey^ regarding confession as a means of 
 grace, must m-ge men to have recourse to it, and must be hypocrites 
 themselves, unless they themselves confess. . . . 
 
 How comes it to have passed that while Mr. was my curate 
 
 he never thought of coming to me for confession .'' that he never 
 thought of it till six years after he had left my church, when he had 
 become the incumbent of another, and after he had been con- 
 science-stricken under the sermon of a clergyman not connected 
 
 with me and strongly opposed to Mr. 's school of divinity .'^ 
 
 How is it that no curate of my church — and I have had many — no 
 officer, lay or clerical, of my church, has ever made a confession ? 
 How is it that not a single member of my own family, not one of 
 my own dear children, for whose spiritual welfare I am bound 
 before all things to watch, ever come to me or go to anyone else 
 for confession ? 
 
 It is because I hold that while confession may be occasionally 
 necessary as medicine to a mind diseased, it is an exception, not 
 the rule ; and I teach them to regulate their own minds, and to go 
 for confession to God alone.
 
 -i859 Leftci's, 1 850-1 859. 493 
 
 How is it that I never go to confession myself? Often, very 
 often in my life, God knows, I have required and sought ghostly 
 counsel and advice, but in my early yeai'S I sought and opened my 
 griefs to a friend who was, and is, a layman ; and for the last two 
 and twenty years I have obtained it from one who is bound to me 
 by the closest ties that can bind together two human beings, and 
 without whose tender care and affectionate support I should not 
 ha\e been able to endure the hard warfare I have had to sustain 
 during the last fourteen years, when I have had to defend the 
 Church of England first from one extreme and then from the other. 
 
 While Mr.' was yet a child, and before some of the clergy of 
 
 St. Saviour's were born, I was labouring as a minister in the via 
 vicdia of the Church of England ; and there I hope, through evil 
 report and good report, by the grace of God, to pursue the even 
 tenor of my way to the end of my days. 
 
 To a Lady. 
 
 Leeds : May 26, 1851. 
 
 I do most heartily congratulate you on the approaching 
 marriage of your son. 1 am a great advocate for marriage, and for 
 early marriage. It is one of the misfortunes of modern society 
 that young persons cannot marry early in life, and when they first 
 fall in love. We are told that it is not good for man to be alone, 
 and what we are told we find by experience to be true. The 
 Scriptures permit exception to this as to other rules, but a Church 
 which represents celibacy as a higher state than the 'holy estate of 
 matrimony,' so ' forbidding to marr)',' has on it the brand of Anti- 
 christ — see I Tim. iv. 3. . . . I hope that to gentleness of nature the 
 lady adds sufficient strength of will to keep her husband in good 
 order. The wisdom of the heart is wiser than the wisdom of the 
 head, and in heart-wisdom woman is superior to man. A happy 
 home is, therefore, in my humble judgment, one in which the lady has 
 at least her proper influence. ... As to Church matters, the Romish 
 movement is an infidel movement, and it is predicted that in these 
 last days there will be a great falling away. Wherever Romanism 
 prevails, infidelity has sway ; and it is through Romanism that many 
 will pass into atheism. Among the lower classes even now the infidel 
 and the Romanist parties are forming an alliance. If you wish to 
 see how closely Romanism and infidelity are connected I would 
 strongly urge you to read Mcyrick on the Church in Spain. . . .
 
 494 L^f*^ ^/ TValter Favqiihar Hook. 1850- 
 
 We must be \ery careful not to send men over to Rome by 
 decrying our own Church. Although England is the first and most 
 glorious nation in the world, and the Church of England the best 
 and purest Church that has ever existed from the Apostolical times> 
 we of course have our faults ; I have no objection to their being 
 pointed out, but whenever you find a fault, look out at the same 
 time for an excellence and a virtue ; or at least show that a greater 
 fault exists in the apostate Church of Rome. If we do nothing but 
 abuse our mother we shall soon depart from her. . . . She is not 
 faultless, but she is the bulwark of Christendom. 
 
 To Sir ir. P. IWuuL 
 
 June 3, 1851. 
 
 My dearest Solicitor,— I am bilious, low-spirited, cross and 
 disagreeable, and therefore I intend (D.v.) to be with you on 
 
 vSaturday. 
 
 To Sir JV. P. JJ'ood — Social Rcfo7'in. 
 
 December 1851. 
 
 I am 7iot a socialist, as you not long since insinuated. I fully 
 agree with the articles in the 'Edinburgh' (Greig's) on that point, 
 but I wish to see facilities afforded to the working classes to form 
 joint-stock companies, and means devised to give them a greater 
 interest in the success of the speculations made by their em- 
 ployers. 
 
 There is an e\ ident feeling among the working classes that 
 there is to be a scramble, and that is what the unprincipled 
 desire. 
 
 I wish we could break down the barrier which separates the 
 middle and the working classes, or rather the professional and the 
 working classes. The latter are too easily managed, but they must 
 be managed by their own men. Their leaders are receiving high 
 wages, and live with all the comforts of life ; but they speak offen- 
 sively (it is like cant) of their being only poor woxViwg men. . . . 
 
 You statesmen must look about you, for there must be social 
 reform. The people are calmly but with detennination devising 
 steps to effect this. Brutal as are the masses, and worse than 
 savages for want of education, their leaders, the honourable, sober, 
 wise, and philanthropic portion of the working classes, are now 
 taking proper measures to redress their grievances. They no 
 longer think of brute force ; they understand that the middle classes
 
 -i859 Letters, 1 850-1 859. 495 
 
 vill defend w hat they have ; but they see that there is truth in 
 sociahsm and communism. They are, perhaps, from all I hear, 
 taking too exclusive a view of that truth, but certainly you political 
 economists take too exclusive a view of the opposite side. At all 
 events, I hear people, religious people and Churchmen, argue thus. 
 By overstocking the market, and over-speculation, the working 
 classes have been brought by their masters, during the last twenty 
 years, three times to the very verge of starvation ; they say that 
 a similar crisis is at hand, and that we shall have a terrible winter. 
 This, they say, ought to be guarded against, and may be guarded 
 against, and shall be guarded against. They think that some modi- 
 fication of socialism will be the means ; and certainly one does not 
 see why a firm, having made a large sum of money by speculation, 
 should not give the workmen u share in the spoil, just as in some 
 insurance companies the directors give to the insured parties a share 
 in the profits. 
 
 You will laugh, probably, at my politics, but living as I do 
 among the working people, I cannot but share in their feelings to 
 a certain extent, and this, not political reforms, this social reform 
 is the grand point which must occupy the mind of the philanthropic 
 politician for the next half-centuiy. I am rather inclined to side 
 with you as to Parliamentaiy reform ; nothing can be worse than 
 the present Parliament. I rejoice to see the commercial interest 
 represented by Cobden and his friends ; but Cobden and Co. are 
 much mistaken if they think that they are not as unpopular among 
 the working classes as the aristocrats. We must have some 
 working men in the House. And 1 confess I should like to see 
 some persons there who shall enquire how Joey Hume's fortune 
 was made, and what was the number of his pluralities in India. 
 
 To Sir ir. P. Wood — Position of the Churcii in Leeds. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : February 1852. 
 I am like a man when he has put on a silk gown and is relieved 
 from that horrible work of drawing ! I am relieved from my 
 Ecclesiastical Biography, which, as far as the MS. is concerned, is 
 finished : and so, as you have time to read, you will hereafter be 
 honoured with more frequent epistles. This said Ecclesiastical 
 Biography has occupied my leisure moments for several years : the 
 work is not one which brings credit to the author, but I hope that 
 it will be useful.
 
 49^ Life of Walter FarqnJiar Hook. 1850- 
 
 The Bishop travelled the other day with a lay gentleman who 
 did not know that he was the Bishop, but entered into conversation 
 with him, and informed him that he often visited Leeds, and was 
 full of admiration of the quiet progress the Church is making here. 
 He said 'there was a consecration of a church last week, the four- 
 teenth erected since Dr. Hook was Vicar. In any other place there 
 would have been placards all over the town : but they do things so 
 quietly in Leeds : it was treated as an ordinaiy occurrence. I 
 should have liked to be there had I known of it. Were you there, 
 sir?' he said, addressing the Bishop. After a time he said,' I su])- 
 pose you are a minister of the Church of England .'' ' and on 
 receiving a reply in the affirmative, he continued, ' I was dining 
 yesterday with a leading Dissenting minister in Leeds, and I said 
 to him, " I suppose it is all up with you here?" He said, " No, not 
 quite that, but we feel as if we were bound with a strong cord, and 
 not permitted to go an inch farther than Dr. Hook pleases."' . . . 
 
 The leading Chartist and Socialist in this town said the other 
 day to a friend of mine that when the Dissenters declaimed 
 against the Church that it possessed an income of seven millions, 
 his reply always was, ' If the Church docs possess seven millions, 
 there are no millions which get back so quickly into the pockets of 
 the people : and if there is to be property, it is the best property, 
 for any working man's son may obtain a share in it.' 
 
 To a Lady — ScIfisJmess. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : 1852. 
 Selfishness is the sin more particularly difficult for those who 
 move in high life to overcome, as they are accustomed from early 
 youth to see all persons conspiring to make them think self the 
 first consideration. I have of late seen something of high life, I 
 have long been familiar with the lower classes of society, and I 
 belong myself to the middle class, and I am much impressed with 
 the extreme difficulty which parents encounter in the two extremes 
 to bring up their children in a really Christian manner. The diffi- 
 culties are widely different, between the highest and the lowest 
 classes of society, but each of those classes has difficulties from 
 which the children of professional men and tradesmen may easily 
 be saved if parents are wise. But we all have this in common, the 
 sin of selfishness — not regard for self, for that is right, but such a 
 regard for self as to disregard the claims of others, and to make the
 
 -1 859 Letters, 1 850-1 859. 497 
 
 interest of self the only concern of life. The mark of a converted 
 heart is that we glow with disinterested benevolence and desires 
 to promote the glory of God and the well-being of human 
 nature. . . . 
 
 I have been much pressed by work lately. Besides an unusual 
 number of sick cases in the parish, I have been engaged in the 
 formation of a Penitentiary for the West Riding, to the establish- 
 ment of which I find more indifference than I expected, and I have 
 had also some letters to answer, and suggestions to offer on subjects 
 not so easily settled as the subject of my correspondence with 
 your ladyship. One letter is from a young lady to ask whether she 
 may marry a German Jew with whom she has fallen in love, in the 
 hope of C07ivertmg hitn ! 
 
 To Sir W. P. Wood — Convocation. 
 Vicarage, Leeds : Crispin's Day, Anniversary of Agincourt. 
 
 My dearest friend, — I have stood on tiptoe this day and drunk 
 to the memory of Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick 
 and Salisbury, as well as my good Lord of Westmoreland, although 
 he was somewhat faint-hearted at first. ... I have sonie thoughts 
 of going next year to America, and I shall pay my expenses, or try 
 to do so, by a ' Visit to the American Church,' which I shall write 
 in the shape of letters to you, but I shall keep them in a book and 
 send them to you in a mass. I always feel so little certain about 
 foreign letters that I cannot bring my pen up to the scratch of 
 writing long letters to friends on their travels, or when I am travel- 
 ling to friends at home. 
 
 I agree with you in what you say about Convocation. It is 
 curious enough that I had this morning, before receiving your 
 letter, talked the matter over with the Bishop of Ripon, and told 
 him that I did not wish any immediate action, but that I thought the 
 present movement a Providential mercy. It will strengthen, I said, 
 the hands of our friends in the House. And it will do so thus. 
 Lord Shaftesbury's faction, and the Plymouth faction, are insisting 
 upon a Parliamentary change in the Liturgy and organisation of 
 the Church. Now, you can hold up Convocation as the bugbear 
 to prevent this from proceeding farther. You will not permit Con- 
 vocation to legislate without Parliament, but you must protest 
 against Parliament legislating for the Church without Convocation. 
 
 KK
 
 49^ Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 This is according to your Radical principle : to perfect the system 
 we have received, not, as the Chartists, to act on an abstract 
 theory. 
 
 The Low Church are in alarm lest, if Convocation meet, some 
 strong measure should be taken in favour of the orthodox view ot 
 Baptism, and they evidently do not wish to have a Convocation 
 until they see whether they have a majority. They have encouraged 
 an address against Convocation. The moderate men on the other 
 side wish to meet this address. I told them that I thought it un- 
 dignified to get up a counter address ; but suggested a letter to 
 Bell and myself, the Proctors : in fact, I have drawn up the letter 
 to myself. A talk about Convocation will do good ; but we are 
 not prepared to act. And yet there are some practical points 
 which will require synodal action soon : to wit, the offering of epis- 
 copacy to foreign Protestants ; the assistance to be rendered to 
 Romish countries wishing to reform. I merely indicate the kind 
 of questions which might profitably arise. 
 
 I agree with you also in what you say of the Church. We both 
 were too sectarian in former times : a snug little sect would be 
 comfortable. But once set a little church in action and you want 
 the restraint of an external power. See our Church in Scotland and 
 even in America. 
 
 To Sir IV. P. Wood — Rianours of appointment to the Bishopric of 
 
 Lincoln. 
 
 Leeds : March 1853. 
 
 I have never for a moment dreamed of being a Bishop, and 
 have therefore been amused by the manner in which it has 
 been assumed that my appointment was certain. I have 
 actually received an application for the appointment of my pri- 
 vate secretary ! ! People in Leeds regarded the appointment 
 as already made, and only concealed by myself from feelings of 
 delicacy. 
 
 At fifty-five years of age — and such I shall be if I live to the 
 13th of this month — a wise man will not seek to increase his 
 responsibilities and labours. Every year I must become less effi- 
 cient. A few years ago I should have liked as a Bishop to set an 
 example of episcopal simphcity as well as labour — not, I trust, 
 from any ambitious motives. But this has now been done by the 
 Bishop of Ripon and the Bishop of Oxford, and will be done by
 
 -i859 Letters, 1 850-1 859. 499 
 
 others. And even then, I was conscious that my talent is not that 
 of a ruler. It is under this conviction that I would seek a quieter 
 sphere than this of Leeds, if I could. I think I could even now 
 write a history of the Church of England from the Conquest to the 
 present day if I had leisure, and to engage in such a work has been 
 my wish through life. If I had my choice of life, I would have an 
 independence sufficient to enable me to educate my children, have 
 a house in Hertfordshire, where I could pursue my studies ; and a 
 Lectureship in London, for I think that with my experience I 
 could do good by preaching to educated people — a house in Herts 
 and the Preachership at Lincoln's Inn or the Temple — that's what 
 I should like. I have perhaps preached more sermons than any 
 man in England, but it has chiefly been to the uneducated. I should 
 like to try my hand upon the educated. There is a castle in the 
 air for you. 
 
 But really these things are very much beneath one's thoughts, 
 when one is within fifteen years of the limit of human life. My 
 thoughts of preferment are higher : yet I have no ambition for 
 the highest places in the Kingdom of Glory. God knows they 
 are out of my reach : but there is the dread of being shut out ; 
 not so much from the fear of Hell as from horror of seeing 
 that dear countenance of the Divine Saviour averted from 
 me. 
 
 Lord, have mercy upon us ! 
 Christ, have mercy upon us ! 
 Lord, have mercy upon us ! 
 
 To Sir IV. P. Wood — On appointment of Dr. yackson to the See of 
 Lincoln. 
 
 April 1853. 
 For myself, you know that I consider myself as one of the 
 least-fitted persons for a bishopric in the present position of the 
 Church. I can scarcely conceive a person less fit ; and I should 
 not like to give up my long-enjoyed liberty of plain-speaking of 
 things and persons. I have been for thirty-two years the mastiff 
 of the Church. I have barked at her enemies, growled at the 
 nasty little children who go out of her courts to play in Conventicle 
 Alley, and then come back with their pinafores torn, and their faces 
 begrimed with dirt ; and 1 have loved the good children of the 
 
 K K 2
 
 5CO Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 house, and I like to be patted on the head by them ; but what a 
 mad dog would that mastiff be who should expect to be made 
 a butler or house-steward ! And what a hard master would he be 
 who should think of thus rewarding his dog ! No ! give him a 
 comfortable kennel. 
 
 He was urged, in May 1853, to go to America as a deputy 
 for the S. P. G. He wrote to decline, on the score of expense ; 
 then, finding that parishioners would help him and were pleased 
 at the offer, he wavered for a short time. He writes to Sir 
 W. P. Wood : 
 
 I am very much inclined to think that I ought to go. I doubt 
 whether anyone, except the Bishop of Oxford who cannot go, 
 would so well understand the American Church feeling as myself, 
 and would be able to unite with genuine John BuUism so much 
 admiration and love for brother Jonathan. I have already in my 
 mind my sermons, both before the Convention and when I first 
 preach in Trinity Church. 
 
 On the other hand, I am getting old. I do not fancy the 
 voyage in the midst of the equinoctial gales ; and, in fact, ' non 
 sum qualis eram.' 
 
 I have been in high good humour with my flock. My people 
 met me at the Holy Communion in greater number than on any 
 preceding Whitsun Day. And in the evening we had an immense 
 congregation, and my operatives responded to my call in a charity 
 sermon to the amount of 58/. There, ye Westmonasterians — shame 
 to you ! You will see that I am not at all in a modest humour to- 
 day, but don't be alarmed. I have plenty to humble my pride and 
 to keep me lowly in my own eyes as well as in those of other 
 people. 
 
 His family and friends, especially doctors, were all averse 
 to his going to America, and he yielded, not reluctantly, for in 
 a letter written soon after this decision, he says : 'You can 
 have no idea how much older I have become in mind and 
 constitution during the last two or three years. A few years 
 ago I should have felt very unhappy to decline such an offer as 
 the present. But now I feel a great desire for retirement and 
 repose, and a shrinking from all duty except that which comes 
 in routine.'
 
 -i859 Letters, 1 850-1 859. 50 1 
 
 To the Rev. — Sudden and Gradual Conversions. 
 
 Leeds : July 30, 1854. 
 I suppose that we should all of us be agreed in thinking sudden 
 and conscious conversions are possible, and that they are sometimes 
 to be urged. But are there not diversities of gifts ? Are we not 
 to judge of the indwelling of the Spirit in ourselves, not by our 
 feelings, but by its effect upon our lives ? The holiest man I know, 
 whose secret soul I have known from childhood, has always been, as 
 he is, improving, growing in grace. Another dear friend of mine was 
 converted as suddenly as ever you could wish, if by conversion you 
 mean an acceptance of the Lord Jesus as the only Saviour? 
 Surely both of these are equally under grace and the object of 
 Divine favour ; though one can and the other cannot tell me when 
 the operations of grace became first perceptible to his soul. 
 
 To Sir W. P. Wood — CJiurch Extension. 
 
 November 14, 1854. 
 Last week two churches were consecrated, making the number 
 of churches built during my incumbency amount to twenty. We 
 laid the foundation of the twenty-first church the week before, and 
 then we shall have done with church building for a time. We 
 shall have one church for every 6,000 of the population, and con- 
 sidering the number of Dissenters in each district this is sufficient 
 for the present. We must now turn our thoughts to multiply the 
 clergy for each church. I shall endeavour to prevail upon men of 
 fortune to support for a certain period additional curates in each 
 district. We have one instance already : the munificent manager 
 of Price's Candle Manufactoiy supports a curate in one of our dis- 
 tricts for three years. And I think of getting the mill-owners, 
 wherever I can, to pay one curate who may superintend their mills 
 as well as work among the people. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 November 18, 1854. 
 
 Please to present my humble respects to my lady, and ask her 
 to purchase a quart bottle of Japan ink, and to place it on your 
 study table. It may be put to my account in the bill of endless 
 gratitude. Really, with failing eyes to have to read such writing 
 as yours, in ink almost invisible, is no joke.
 
 502 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 To the satne — A fish for an Invitatioit. 
 
 Leeds : May 26, 1855. 
 
 Will you kindly ascertain for me whether my lady is aware that 
 I preach in the Chapel Royal on the second Sunday in June. If 
 she be, perhaps she would invite me to pay you a visit. Please 
 tell my lady I will try to be a better boy than I was last time. 
 
 On the 6th I go to Hertingfordbury. Last time I slept in that 
 house I was a schoolboy ; I now return as a grandfather. 
 
 I hope you observe my craft in changing the title of our school.' 
 It is a deep design to frustrate the counsels of the Vice-Chancellor. 
 I heard from Barry that your honour thought you must insist upon 
 Greek in the lower school. ' Oh ho ! ' says the Vicar, ' is that the 
 case ? Then we won't have two schools, but divide the Grammar 
 School of Leeds into two departments ; the upper and lower 
 departments.' Isn't that clever? 
 
 My wife has gone to the parish church schools with a carriage 
 full of tea-urns and buns, and I am now going to address 4,000 
 children, so no more from 
 
 Fishing Hook. 
 
 To the same — Difficulties in educating the High-born. 
 
 Leeds : September 1855. 
 
 . . . The young men to whom you allude are, you must bear in 
 mind, under the most unfavourable circumstances possible for good 
 education — if we except the lowest grade of society. 
 
 They belong to what are in fact aristocratic families, extending 
 the word aristocracy to others besides people of title. 
 
 They have this in common, that, do what they will, unless the 
 parents are very wise, the circumstances by which they are edu- 
 cated (not less than by professed instructors) are against them. 
 From early life they have been accustomed to comforts, and have 
 had few difficulties to contend with. They have generally obtained 
 what they want on easy terms ; they have seen their parents ever 
 ready to help them out of scrapes ; they have known nothing of 
 money difficulties. 
 
 Except when they are singularly thoughtful and good, such 
 youths come to the conclusion that whatever scrapes they get into, 
 the ' governor ' somehow or other, after a little ' rowing,' will get 
 ' Leeds Grammar School,
 
 -1859 Letters, 1 850-1 859. 503 
 
 them out ; that there is, at all events while their parents live, a 
 home to go to. 
 
 It seems generally to happen that persons so educated cannot 
 be brought to their proper senses until they have got into some 
 serious scrape, suffered some affliction, or fallen in love with some 
 worthy object. 
 
 A very religious youth escapes — one young person in a family 
 escapes, but another doesn't, because parents are almost obhged 
 to have the same discipHne and indulgence for all, and what does 
 for A may not do for B. 
 
 I write from observation, and I have been able to obsen^e from 
 being much consulted. 
 
 To Sir W. P. Wood — Te7nptations of the Soldier and the 
 Clergyman compared. 
 
 Leeds : December 31, 1855. 
 
 . . . The temptations of the army, as you say, are great ; but 
 are they greater than those of the clerical profession ? When we 
 think so, are we not taking the worldly rather than the revealed 
 view of sin, thinking one class of sin more venial than another ! 
 
 I have seen so much of clerical life that I have a dread of here- 
 ditary clergymen ; of those, I mean, who simply take Orders 
 because they have been bred in a clerg>-man's house. The temp- 
 tations of a young clergyman are to idleness, hypocrisy, and 
 malignity. And they are fearful temptations, creating Pharisaisrr 
 The temptation of idleness is not so great as it was. But hypocrisy 
 is variously disguised. It lies under the question which is so often 
 asked, is this or that clerical ? A young clergyman is tempted to 
 appear better than he is. And the controversies of the day en- 
 courage a malignant spirit, which is mistaken for Christian zeal. 
 
 In the army I do not find any great inclination to treat religion 
 with disrespect, though the temptation is to that kind of hypocrisy 
 which induces men to appear less religious than they really are. 
 The great temptation is to the sins of sensuality ; but is a good 
 regiment in this respect worse than a college ? 
 
 To one about to become his Curate. 
 
 Leeds : March 16, 1857. 
 
 My dear , — The time is now approaching when, by the 
 
 Providence of God, we shall probably be brought into a very close
 
 504 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 relation to each other, and it is proper, therefore, that we should 
 have a clear understanding of our relative positions. The first 
 great question you only can decide, whether you have a call from 
 God to his sacred ministry. The outward call we know you have, 
 in that by his Providence the Lord has so ordered events that you 
 have received a proper education. Whether God the Holy Ghost 
 has spoken to your soul, and your soul has made response, can be 
 known only to yourself ; you only can know whether the new heart 
 is created within you; that principle which originating in love to 
 God, manifests itself in disinterested benevolence, and in zeal for 
 the salvation of souls. If it be so, all glory be to God ! 
 
 As regards your relation to me, an Incumbent engages a curate 
 with one only object, that he may be a help to him in the work of 
 the ministry. The business of the curate, therefore, is to do his 
 work, not in the way which the curate may think best, but in the 
 way which the incumbent may direct. If you feel (knowing my 
 principles) that you cannot help me, you ought not to come: where 
 you are a hindrance rather than a help, you ought not to go ; for 
 God's work must be done decently and in order. If you are willing 
 to work under me, even though you may think yourself wiser than 
 myself, then may the Lord prosper your work among us. 
 
 I mention this after considering the tone of your last letter. 
 You must pardon me for saying that I did not like the manner in 
 which a young layman spoke of his bishop; assuming the supe- 
 riority; nor did I like your reference to the chaplain ; I know 
 
 nothing of Mr. , but you say you regard him as ' a (pattern) 
 
 bigot ; ' he holds his opinions strongly, perhaps he denounces 
 strongly those opposed to him, but is he really more a bigot in fact 
 than the young man who denounces him as a bigot .'' It is better 
 not to, call names. I heard a man, not long ago, condemning 
 another as a bigot because (in my opinion very properly) he spoke 
 of Romanism as a heresy ; and that very person, a short time after, 
 spoke of Presbyterianism as a heresy, and yet he did not at first 
 perceive that if one were a bigot, so was the other. 
 
 I shall send you a little tract by this post, which I request you 
 to read, as it states my views on the present state of things ; and 
 you will then be able to judge how far you will be able to act with 
 me. You will perceive that I am a decided anti-Tractarian as well 
 as an anti-Recordite, and I should not like a curate of mine to 
 adopt the affectations in dress, gait, or cant of that party. Cant is 
 particularly offensive to me ; the cant of Tractarians is, I think, 
 worse than that of the pseudo-Evangelicals.
 
 -i859 Letters, 1850-^859. 505 
 
 I request you to turn these matters over in your mind, and then 
 come here to bring men to Christ, acting in accordance with the 
 disciphne of the Church of England, and on the principles of the 
 Reformation, resolute to oppose Romanism, the form through which 
 infidelity is working in the present day ; equally opposed to all 
 forms of error, but dealing charitably with all men, however erro- 
 neous they may be, and glowing with zeal for the conversion of 
 souls to Christ our Lord. 
 
 To Vice-Chaiicellor Wood — Deprecates Testimonials and 
 Preferment. 
 
 Leeds : October 29, 1857. 
 
 ... At Radley, Sewell informed me of his extreme kindness, for 
 which I shall be for ever grateful, in agitating in favour of a testi- 
 monial for me. I was overwhelmed by a feeling of gra- 
 titude, though my mind revolted against the idea, and the 
 more I have thought of the subject the more convinced I am 
 that the course he proposes is not desirable and would be an utter 
 failure. 
 
 If I were to die, I have little doubt that my parishioners would 
 like to show their affection to one who has served them affec- 
 tionately for twenty years and more, and few things I should like 
 more than that their affection should take the shape of a vicar's 
 scholarship attached to the Grammar School, so that, being dead, 
 I might still benefit my people. But before my work is done such 
 a movement is premature : it will give offence, it will provoke 
 attacks, and all for nothing. For what I have done has been 
 simply my duty, and — I speak seriously — what a person with a 
 better temper would have done far better. I say nothing of 
 talents, for I believe talents, beyond a certain point, are rather in a 
 parson's way than otherwise. 
 
 But this I set aside ; my friends may be partial, and I love 
 them for their partiality, but my whole soul revolts from the ex- 
 aggeration of my inerits, whatever they are, which this movement 
 would imply. 
 
 When one dies, then such things seem to come naturally. The 
 heart is softened, one likes to raise a monument to a friend, and I 
 should prefer this sort of monument. But, my dearest friend, put 
 a stop to this at once, I beseech you. 
 
 Another thing annoys me very much, and Scwcll, like many 
 others, has alluded to it — my not having been noticed by Govern- 
 ment.
 
 5o6 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 1850- 
 
 I thmk this most unfair. If I had made high preferment my 
 object, I have that mediocrity of talent which might have enabled 
 me to obtain my end. 
 
 I deliberately preferred another course : I determined from my 
 youth to support my own opinions, and without restraint, I, with 
 my eyes open, made myself what all Governments would regard as 
 an ' unsafe man.' It revolts me, therefore, to hear myself made 
 a subject of remark, because I have not been preferred. A 
 man has no right to take his own course, and then to com- 
 plain that he has not the rewards which are designed for another 
 course. 
 
 I would therefore entreat you never to ask for preferment for 
 me. I grow more and more attached to Leeds ; and any little 
 difficulties I have in money matters are occasioned by my in- 
 dulging too expensively in the luxury of curates — a luxury which 
 has almost become a necessary of life. 
 
 To Lady Elizabeth Grey. 
 
 Leeds : August 24, 1858. 
 
 I write to express, on the part of Mrs. Hook and myself, our 
 deep sympathy with you under your present great affliction. You 
 have numberless sources of consolation which will, no doubt, be 
 brought to your heart by the Divine Comforter, in whose inspira- 
 tions alone real comfort is to be found. He heareth prayer, prayer 
 being appointed as one of the means by which our ends are to be 
 obtained, and exertion the other. While _y(7z^ are exerting yourself, 
 by the study of Scripture, to realise to your soul the true grounds 
 of comfort, lue can join with you in prayer, and we may be certain 
 that, so far as consolation and even spiritual joy will be conducive 
 to your soul's health, they will be imparted. Whenever the time 
 comes to bid farewell to one ' not lost but gone before,' the parting 
 pang must be acutely felt, but perhaps we feel it less when the 
 parent precedes the child ; and in your case, you can dwell upon 
 the blessed thought that she who has passed on from the militant 
 to the triumphant Church had won, by her Christian virtues, the 
 respect — I may say the affection — of those who only saw her from 
 a distance, but who revered one who, in a generation very different 
 from our own, exhibited in the highest rank an example which went 
 far towards effecting that reformation in the moral tone of society 
 which we have lived to witness.
 
 -i859 Letters, 1850-1859. 507 
 
 Sphitiial advice to an Invalid. 
 
 Leeds : August 25, 1858. 
 
 Till yesterday, I had no idea of your having suffered so much 
 and being still so weak. Your letter shows that you are able to 
 exert yourself, and self-exertion in regard to your mind is what you 
 require. 
 
 Your mind, as is generally the case; sympathises with your body 
 and is morbid. And as such you must treat it. 
 
 And in dealing with your mind, first of all, try to master the 
 idea that you are not responsible for what you cannot help. 
 
 You complain of the coldness of your heart. 
 
 You have not purposelj- and deliberately made your heart cold. 
 
 Your coldness of heart is therefore at the present time simply a 
 disease. 
 
 If you had a cold fit in an ague, you would not be reproaching 
 yourself ; you would send for a physician. 
 
 If you were cast away on the coast of Lapland, you would not 
 JDe blaming yourself for feeling cold, but if you saw a fire lighted 
 you would approach it, if you saw fresh clothing at hand you would 
 put it on. 
 
 So now, look out from yourself to Jesus, the great Physician of 
 the soul, look out from yourself to the Spirit of God, and array 
 yourself in the righteousness of Christ. And then you will see 
 where the fault lies. We are all too apt at all times to become 
 idolaters, and when we think that we are worshipping God to erect 
 Self in God's place. 
 
 Instead of thinking only how you can serve your God and 
 Saviour, you are now thinking of your own salvation, your own 
 spiritual condition. 
 
 Have no thought about yourself. Whether you believe it or 
 not, you are safe in Christ's hands. But think of your God. How 
 can you serve Him ? One way, and one way only, is appointed. 
 You sei-ve Him by submission to His will. His will it is that you 
 should now serve Him without any pleasure in His service, with 
 coldness, almost deadness of heart. Was not our dear Lord and 
 Master tried in like manner? Shut your eyes, clasp your hands, 
 and say deliberately, ' If it be possible, O Father, let this cup pass 
 from me ; nevertheless not my will but Thine be done.' 
 
 The comforting influences of the Holy Spirit may be withdrawn
 
 5o8 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1850- 
 
 from you, as they were from our gracious Master, when He ex- 
 claimed, ' My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me ? ' 
 
 But nothing can take you out of your Heavenly Father's hands, 
 and the Lord Jesus assures you, ' He that cometh to Me I will in 
 no wise cast out.' 
 
 Offer yourself to God to suffer the worst, under the humble 
 conviction that He doth not willingly afflict the children of men, 
 and that He afflicts you therefore because it is through affliction 
 that you will be prepared for that particular mansion in the king- 
 dom of glory to which you are predestinated. 
 
 Faith, faith — trust in God — this is what is required. 
 
 I repeat it — You should resolve to resist as a temptation your 
 desire to examine yourself. Go out of yourself, and think of your 
 Heavenly Father. Nothing will aid you in doing this more than a 
 reception of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, if in preparing you 
 will not have recourse to the usual self-examination which is recom- 
 mended to those who are living in the world, but confine yourself 
 to meditation on our Lord's sufferings. 
 
 At baptism, God adopted you in Christ as His child. His 
 child you still are. You have been, as we all have been, an erring 
 child, and you have received and are receiving chastisement from 
 your loving Father ; but you have never done what would lead to 
 your disinheritance. We must pray for your restoration to bodily 
 health and mental health, but as for your spiritual health, of that 
 we have no doubt. 
 
 The best thing to read when the mind is morbid is the only 
 book which is without a fault — the Bible ; the four Gospels 
 without note or comment. I would read the text in what is 
 called the Paragraph Bible, without the divisions into verses and 
 chapters. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 Leeds : September 13, 1858. 
 
 Of all calamities that relate merely to oneself, I think that de- 
 pression of spirits is the worst. I have suffered from it acutely at 
 times, as most people who have high spirits usually do ; and I 
 know, therefore, how to sympathise with you. I know also that 
 while the expression of sympathy is always soothing to the sufferer, 
 yet it is impossible to talk the evil down. We must pray for its 
 removal, and seek employment such as circumstances will allow.
 
 -i859 Letters, 1 850-1 859. 509 
 
 In reading, I doubt the effect of light reading : I should say that 
 the best is to read what is tragic and affecting. . . . 
 
 On these occasions it is a comfort to open one's heart to one 
 who can understand us ; . . . although, in point of fact, there is 
 nothing to say but only this, ' I am depressed in spirit, the com- 
 forting influences of the Holy Spirit are withdrawn from me ; 
 nothing you can say will comfort me. I can hardly pray for my- 
 self ; therefore, pray for me and with me.' And this reminds me to 
 observe that in these cases, as in others, it is sometimes ver^^ salutaiy 
 to pray aloud. The sound of one's own voice is cheering and rousing. 
 When, in health and strength, we are walking in a solitary place,, 
 on the mountain or on the sea-shore, it is astonishing what force it 
 gives to prayer when we venture to converse with our God audibly 
 — sometimes even with a shout of praise. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 Leeds : December 8, 1858. 
 
 I much rejoice to have under your own hand a confirmation of 
 the good report of your progress towards health, which has given 
 us much joy. 
 
 I still think that you do not understand the nature of your 
 spiritual complaint ; instead of worrj'ing yourself about your feel- 
 ings, you should direct your attention more entirely to your faith. 
 ' Do you deliberately accept the Lord Jesus Christ as your only, 
 your complete, Saviour? If you do, then you ought to be assured of 
 }Our salvation, for our gracious Lord saith, ' Him that cometh to 
 me I will in no wise cast out.' Do you really believe this ? Then 
 your desponding feelings, except so far as they are connected with 
 your physical weakness, will disappear. If they do not, then you 
 do not really and fully believe that the Lord Jesus Christ is a 
 Saviour omnipotent to save ; and to that point, not to your feelings, 
 you should direct the whole force of your mind. Give yourself a 
 task. Do not read the works formed on the Methodistic system, or 
 the Pusey school ; but go to the Bible at once, and there seek em- 
 ployment. For example, you might harmonise the life of our 
 blessed Lord, seeking to bring his whole history from the four 
 Evangelists under one head ; or else you might collect the passages 
 from the Prophets which relate to our Lord's humiliation and glor}-, 
 or you might collect from the Epistles all the references there made 
 to His sufferings and their sacrificial character.
 
 5IO Life of Walter Far qiihar Hook. 1850- 
 
 You see what I mean. It is desirable to take your mind off 
 from yourself. By employing yourself in investigations relating to 
 our dear Lord and Master, you will have more and more faith in 
 Him, and by reading at other times such books as I have men- 
 tioned, you will be learning how to employ your mind, and in what 
 way to pursue your investigations. 
 
 I wish further to remark that when our gracious Master saith, 
 ' Come unto Me,' He does not say that you are first to love Him, 
 and then to come. No ! Come to Him that you may be made to 
 love Him. He does not say. Come, because you arc melted into 
 contrition, but come that you 7nay be melted into contrition. Come, 
 not because you have a deep conviction of sin, but come that your 
 conviction may be made deep. Come to Him for everything, 
 for help when weak, for hope when desponding, for comfort in 
 sorrow. 
 
 All that you have to do at the present time is deliberately to 
 say : ' I place my soul in the hands of the Lord Jesus Christ ; ' 
 and then, as far as this world is concerned, to obey your doctor's 
 orders. 
 
 To Sir W. P. Wood, on his Bi7'thday. 
 
 November 29, 1858. 
 May the Lord God Almighty bless you, and all who are dear to 
 you ! Is there not a heavenly melancholy, as the years pass on, 
 which are leading us to eternity.'' Oh ! if I, poor sinner, may be 
 but a doorkeeper in my Heavenly Father's house ! How solemnly 
 real these thoughts become as we grow old ! Well, I will not go 
 on, for on these occasions I get pleasantly maudlin. I feel now as 
 if I should like to lie down on a sofa, and let the tears quietly flow, 
 and my thoughts unconsciously rise to heavenly communion. But 
 it must not be, for I have a class, and a cottage-lecture to give 
 when I have finished this letter ; and they will be gentle teachings 
 which I shall utter, for the thought of you, my friend, leads me to 
 the past, and the past is gentle. 
 
 The following letter, from Mrs. Hook to her husband, is 
 undated, but is seemingly in reply to one of rather a despond- 
 ing character from him, late in his career at Leeds, when both 
 were beginning to feel that the work was too much for them 
 and had better pass into younger hands :
 
 -i859 Z^//^r^, 1850-1859. 511 
 
 I have been sorr>'of late to see you shrinking from being mixed 
 up in pubhc matters, and a pubHc man who does so, soon gets out 
 of the current of existing events, and is thrown high and dry upon 
 the shelf. 
 
 Those who know you, do not measure you by the standard by 
 which you judge yourself. You have been appointed by God's 
 providence to do a very great and important work, and gallantly 
 you have done it. But the qualities required for carrying fortvard 
 the work are more to be found in younger men, whose intellects 
 have been refined and sharpened, and led to look more into the 
 details of things ; but who would not have had the warmth and 
 largeness of heart, and courage, to have begun the work. Your 
 great success has been owing to your great powers of sympathy 
 and spiritual knowledge of the workings of men's hearts, and (if I 
 may say so) where you have failed, has been where you have lost 
 your sympathy, and have thought of yourself more than of others. 
 You have had a life of great trial, but when I recollect what the 
 Church was thirty years ago, and what it is now, and remember 
 how you then seemed alone to hold the principles to which she 
 owes her revival, I cannot allow that your work has been in any 
 degree thrown away. I have been ever ready to accept your 
 apparent want of worldly success as a token of God's approbation 
 of your work ; though I fancy sometimes, when I go among 
 strangers, that you carry more weight, and command more respect, 
 than most of those who sit in the high places in the Church. 
 
 I feel, therefore, that we can go on doing good here still, 
 though, perhaps, not so much as younger and fresher people could 
 do. 
 
 Your letter has brought out this, and as 1 am so awful a per- 
 sonage, perhaps you may read it with allowances for my stiff, 
 austere mind, which can presume to see that those I love are not 
 * absolute perfection.' 
 
 I do not further speak of myself, because I don't want to think 
 of myself. I find self-contemplation very weakening ; and if one 
 could separate one's sins from one's trials and sorrows, remember 
 the former and forget the latter, it would go far towards making 
 me more able to stand against the difficulties which arise in the 
 narrow path.
 
 512 Life of Walter Fargiikar Hook. 1859- 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 DEPARTURE FROM LEEDS. — LIFE AT CHICHESTER FROM 
 1859 TO 1867. 
 
 Of the body of twenty-five Trustees who had elected Dn 
 Hook to the Vicarage of Leeds in 1837, many had now been 
 summoned from this world. Mr. Robert Hall, who had been 
 so especially active in forwarding the election, died in May 
 1857, soon after he had reached the height of his ambition by 
 becoming M.P. for the Borough of Leeds. He had begun his 
 education at the Leeds Grammar School, and shortly after his 
 death, the Vicar, presiding at the distribution of prizes to the 
 boys, bade them revere his memory ' as a model of patient 
 industry, as the bright example of a good and upright man, 
 who from his earliest years had earnestly devoted himself in a 
 religious spirit to the cultivation of those talents which God 
 had given him.' 
 
 Mr. Henry Hall survived his son several years. As senior 
 Trustee in 1837 he had announced to Dr. Hook his election 
 to the Vicarage, and as senior Trustee he now, at the age of 
 eighty-six, received from the Vicar the announcement of his 
 resignation, which was formally made in the following letter. 
 
 To Henry Hall, Esq. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds : February 19, 1859. 
 It is my duty to announce to you, and through you to the 
 Trustees of the Vicarage of Leeds, to the Churchwardens of the 
 parish, and to my parishioners generally, that Her Majesty the 
 Queen has been graciously pleased to confer upon me the Deanery 
 of Chichester.
 
 -1 86 7 Resigns Vicarage of Leeds. 5 1 3 
 
 By the acceptance of the Deaner}', I shall not be a gainer in 
 point of income, and I wish you clearly to understand that I do 
 not consider any office in the Church of England to be more 
 important or more honourable than that which as Vicar of Leeds 
 I have had the happiness to occupy for twenty-two years, 
 
 Neither am I anxious to retire from work. Wherever I maybe 
 I shall, by God's blessing, do with my might what my hand findeth 
 to do, and if I do not find work I shall make it. 
 
 But when a man has passed the age of sixty he must anticipate 
 ere long a diminution of his powers, physical if not mental ; and it 
 is easy to retire from duties voluntarily undertaken, while it would 
 be painful to find oneself unable to discharge with vigour the duties 
 which pertain to one's station in life. There are, in addition to my 
 pastoral duties, responsibilities attached to my present office, which, 
 from the altered state of ecclesiastical affairs, have involved me in 
 difficulties likely to increase and to be a source of anxiety and 
 care. 
 
 These circumstances have weighed so heavily on my mind that 
 I had fully determined in the course of a few years to have retired 
 from my present post. 
 
 I have felt also that the Act of Parliament which, with the 
 sanction of the Trustees, I obtained for the division of the 
 parish, although it has long been in gradual operation, could not 
 be completely carried into effect so long as I remain Vicar of 
 Leeds. 
 
 I believe it, therefore, to be for the good of Leeds as well as for 
 my own advantage that I should make way for a younger man — a 
 wiser and a better man, I sincerely hope — but certainly not one 
 who can be more devoted than I have been to the service of 
 Leeds. 
 
 The pang of leaving a place where we have found a happy home, 
 devoted friends and generous parishioners for more than twenty 
 years, will be felt acutely by my wife and children as well as by 
 myself 
 
 I have taken a lively interest in the various improvements, 
 secular as well as ecclesiastical, which have taken place in town 
 and neighbourhood during the period of my being a denizen of 
 Leeds. I have rejoiced in the increased and increasing good 
 understanding between the employers and the employed ; in the 
 success of the educational movement ; in the social progress which 
 is visible among the working classes ; and particularly happy have 
 
 LL
 
 514 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1859- 
 
 I been in sharing in the kindly feehng and Christian charity which 
 has of late years prevailed among us. 
 
 I shall leave Leeds with the happy conviction that while I have 
 fearlessly asserted and maintained my own opinions, I leave behind 
 me many dear friends, not only among the members of my own 
 communion but also among Nonconformists of almost all denomi- 
 nations, and among men of every shade of political opinion. Let 
 me hope, too, that I leave without an enemy. 
 
 If any man has done me wrong, I have forgotten it. If I have 
 done wrong to any man, I hope he will forgive me. My frequent 
 prayer will be that the blessing of God may rest on this town of 
 Leeds, and on the various parishes into which my old parish will 
 be divided, and that, through the mercy of the blessed Redeemer 
 Whom I have humbly wished to serve, I may meet the friends from 
 whom I part on earth, tho'e where those who meet will part no 
 more. 
 
 To yourself, my dear sir, besides the respect which I have, in 
 common with every inhabitant of Leeds, for your high character 
 and faithful services as a magistrate and an efficient supporter of 
 the charitable institutions of the town, I am bound personally by 
 ties of gratitude for a course of unvarying support, sympathy, and 
 friendship, from the day when you first greeted me as Vicar of 
 Leeds to the present hour. 
 
 This letter, although dated from Leeds, was in fact com- 
 posed at Eydon in Northamptonshire, of which his son-in-law, 
 the Rev. Arthur Empson, was rector. To this quiet and 
 beautiful village he loved to retreat at times from the turmoil 
 and bustle of Leeds, and to enjoy the society of his daughter 
 and her family amidst rural seclusion and repose. And when 
 his appointment to Chichester had become known in Leeds, 
 and his tender and sensitive heart was torn to pieces by the 
 mingled congratulations and lamentations of his beloved people, 
 he fled to Eydon to escape distressing meetings, and to recover 
 the tone of his health and spirits. The tumult of conflicting 
 feelings by which he was agitated is beautifully described in 
 the following letter to the Bishop of Oxford : 
 
 Leed? : February 20, 1859. 
 My dear Bishop of Oxford, — The overflowing of your sym-
 
 -1 867 First Visit to Chichester. 515 
 
 pathetic heart is indeed a comfort to me. My heart is strangely 
 perverse, and I may say the same of my wife. 
 
 Lord Derby has in the kindest manner given to me the piece 
 of preferment which, of all others, I should have selected if I had 
 my choice ; but we cannot raise our hearts to be joyful : thankful 
 we are, most thankful and grateful, to Lord Derby and the Oueen, 
 and we can express our thanks to the King of Kings ; but the 
 thought of leaving dear old Leeds — Leeds, of which I have 
 thought and dreamed, for which I have laboured, and which I have 
 loved for two-and-twenty years — this is painful, and ought to be 
 painful. All my children write to me grieving over our separation 
 from dear old smoky Leeds. I am going to my daughter's in 
 Northamptonshire to-morrow ; for I really cannot stand the meet- 
 ing dear old friends, many of whom come up to me and shake 
 hands, and then burst into tears. I have been ill, nearly confined 
 to bed, for the last two days. But I have done right, and I do 
 rejoice and shall soon be very glad ; only, just now I am like a 
 man dying, anxious to enter into glory, but still weeping to part 
 from friends. 
 
 On March 17, in company with his wife, he paid his first 
 visit to the quiet old city which was to be to him as a tranquil 
 haven in his old age, after the long, laborious, and at times 
 tempestuous voyage of the years which were past. 
 
 On Saturday, March 19, he writes in his journal: 'This 
 day I was installed Dean of Chichester. It seems very strange 
 that I should be here, as I had no idea of preferment from the 
 Crown. I think that I shall like the retreat. It is what I have 
 longed for. I had some prayer in the Robing-room when I 
 was left there by myself. When I went into my stall, I saw 
 dear old Wood's white head, and I then wept heartily, which 
 Avas a comfort.' 
 
 On the following day he preached in the Cathedral, taking 
 for his text Ecclesiastes ix. 10: ' Whatsoever thy hand findeth 
 to do, do it with thy might.' 
 
 The main lesson of the sermon was, that the first enquiry 
 of a humble-minded Christian ought to be, not, How can I be 
 most useful ? but, What is my duty ? What are the commands 
 of my heavenly King ? and faith in the special Providence of 
 
 L L 2
 
 5 16 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1859- 
 
 God would enable him to answer the question. ' If,' said he, 
 ' circumstances be assigned to us, not by chance but by God, 
 then the Christian man will hear, in the circumstances under 
 which he is placed, the voice of the Lord saying, "In per- 
 forming the duties of thy station, thou art performing the 
 duties to which I call thee." This it is which gives dignity to 
 the humblest office.' 
 
 To act on this principle was to follow the example of our 
 Lord and Master, Jesus Christ. 
 
 Although He came to be our Prophet, Priest, and King, yet He 
 did not take that honour upon Himself, He did not begin His 
 ministry until He was called to it. For nine-and-twenty years he 
 was labouring, a poor man, earning his daily bread in a carpenter's 
 shop. . . . He did not say the hammer, the chisel, and the saw are 
 beneath the consideration of one conscious of miraculous powers ; 
 He did not enquire whether He could not be more useful in debat- 
 ing with the Pharisees, or in seeking to conduct the councils of the 
 Sanhedrin. He obeyed ; His was a life of obedience during those 
 nine-and-twenty years, when, with a heart bleeding in pity for 
 mankind. He stirred not from his obscure abode, but did with his 
 might what in Joseph's shop His hand found to do. 
 
 After preaching this sermon he did not again appear in 
 Chichester, except for one or two chapter meetings, until he 
 came to reside, at the end of July. The interval was chiefly 
 occupied in paying visits, answering letters of congratulation, 
 and preparing for the inevitable and much-dreaded time of 
 departure from the dear old home at Leeds. Meanwhile, the 
 inhabitants of Leeds were busily preparing to testify their sense 
 of obligation to one who had laboured so long and so stre- 
 nuously to promote the highest interest of all classes in that 
 great town. A large meeting was held in April, in the Town 
 Hall, to consider what form the testimonial should take. It 
 was attended by persons of all shades of opinion, political and 
 religious; the chief speakers were the Mayor, Sir Peter Fair- 
 bairn, Mr. Beecroft, M.P. for Leeds, Mr. John Hope Shaw, 
 Mr. Denison, Mr. Forster, Mr. Lupton, and Mr. E. Baines. 
 Several of the speakers were Nonconformists, and some of
 
 -1 86; Farewell to Leeds. 5 1 7 
 
 them had once been very vehement opponents of the Vicar, 
 but all now united in one common desire to do him honour. 
 
 The resolution passed at this meeting was : ' That a sub- 
 scription be raised as a testimony of gratitude for the vast 
 benefits conferred by the Rev. Dr. Hook on the town and 
 neighbourhood of Leeds during the twenty-two years he has 
 filled the important office of Vicar.' 
 
 As the time fixed for departure drew near, the entries in 
 his journal become very mournful. 'Very low in spirits,' 
 ^much depressed,' 'sorely depressed,' occur again and again 
 all through the month of June. His health, too, was disordered. 
 On June 26, he writes in his journal, 'Too unwell to go to 
 church this morning, but preached my last sermon in the 
 evening to my dear, dear congregation, with much pain of body 
 and mind.' 
 
 By the last sermon must here be understood the last 
 preached on Sunday to the ordinary Sunday congregation, for 
 his farewell discourse was delivered on the evening of St. 
 Peter's Day, Wednesday, June 29. In the afternoon of that 
 day the new Dean and his wife had been entertained at a great 
 banquet in the Victoria Hall, when they received such a variety 
 of presents and addresses that the bare enumeration of them is 
 all which can be attempted in these pages. 
 
 The great testimonial from the whole town consisted of a 
 casket containing 2,000 guineas, and an address, which was 
 read by Dr. Barry. The address was written and illuminated 
 on vellum and richly bound in crimson velvet. 
 
 Another casket containing 270/. was presented to Mrs 
 Hook as an offering from the ladies of Leeds. 
 
 A silver centre-piece and an address were presented by the 
 Leeds Society of Odd Fellows. 
 
 A clock and candelabra were given by the choir of the 
 jjarish church, with an address from which I cannot forbear 
 quoting a few words : ' For the proud position which we hold 
 as one of the first choirs in England, we have you to thank, 
 nor would we monopolise the sympathies which choirs in all 
 parts of the kingdom share towards one who has helped to
 
 5i8 Life of Walter Farqttkar Hook. 1859- 
 
 placc the music of the Church on that footing which it ought 
 to occupy in the worship of God. We have been taught by 
 you what is the meaning of the words, " Neither will I offer 
 burnt sacrifices unto the Lord my God of that which doth cost 
 me nothing." Our congratulations are most sincere; our 
 regrets most deep; our prayers, we trust, no less fervent, that 
 God's reward for doing God's work may be most richly yours.' 
 
 There was an address also from the Central Short Time 
 Committee of the West Riding, thanking him for his sedulous 
 efforts on behalf of the Ten Hours Factory Bill; an address 
 from the Leeds Church Sunday-school Association; one from 
 the teachers, and another from the scholars of the parish church 
 Sunday-schools, from the communicants' class, from the church • 
 wardens, and from the Trustees of the living. 
 
 Amidst all this mass of testimony to his work from the 
 people of Leeds, it is due to Coventry to mention that he had 
 not been forgotten there. The vestrymen of Holy Trinity 
 parish had sent him a congratulatory address in which they 
 declared that ' none can better appreciate than ourselves that 
 devoted zeal and energy which have received a well-deserved, 
 if somewhat tardy, recognition at the hands of those who have 
 the disposal of the highest patronage in the Church. We 
 retain, after a lapse of more than twenty years, a grateful sense 
 of your services; we feel their influence for good still working 
 among us, and we pray that God may continue to bestow a like 
 blessing upon your labours in His cause in that new field of 
 labour upon which you are about to enter.' 
 
 The Mayor of Leeds, Sir Peter Fairbairn, presented the 
 testimonials, and spoke as befitted the municipal head of that 
 great town. 'And now, my dear sir ' he said, at the conclusion 
 of his speech, ' in the name of the subscribers, in the name of 
 this goodly. company, and, I will venture to say, in the name 
 of the inhabitants- of Leeds, I bid you heartily and reluctantly 
 farewell, but we pray that great and wise Providence which 
 rules over the destinies of all, to bless and preserve you and 
 yours through all time.' 
 
 It was a hard task for the Dean to reply to all these
 
 -1 867 Farewell to Leeds. 519 
 
 addresses after his health had been drunk with ringing cheers by 
 the great assembly, but it was harder still to say his farewell 
 words to the enormous crowd which thronged the parish church 
 in the evening. Every foot of standing-ground was occupied, 
 and hundreds were unable to gain an entrance. Never, surely, 
 from any pastor's lips did the passage with which that sermon 
 was ended fall more appropriately than from his: 'Watch ye; 
 stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong,' for never 
 had any pastor more manfully, sturdily, yet lovingly, upheld 
 that faith himself in which he then exhorted his flock to remain 
 steadfast. And when the service was ended, and he appeared 
 outside the church, the cheers of the crowd were overwhelming. 
 In a letter to Vice- Chancellor Wood, he writes: 'The thing 
 that did really upset me most that day was the shout of the 
 populace in all the streets from the church to the Vicarage, 
 and their rush to shake hands with me. If I had not thought 
 it better to avail myself of a cab after a time, I verily think 
 I should have been carried home on the people's shoulders.' 
 
 But perhaps the little farewell presents which he received 
 from individuals among the poorer classes of his flock, 
 touched his heart more deeply even than the cheers of the 
 multitude. 
 
 On the original of the following letter, there is written in 
 his own hand, ' This, which is to us an affecting letter, comes 
 from a poor shoemaker, with a beautiful pair of boots. ' 
 
 Rev. Sir, — Sometimes we are at a loss how to express what we 
 feel — one thought displacing another, until all is confusion in the 
 mind. I am just in that position at this moment. 
 
 Do me the favour to accept these boots — a poor gift, I own, 
 but cheerfully offered. I lament your loss, but you go with the 
 best wishes and earnest prayers of 
 
 Yours most respectfully, 
 
 Henry Greenwood. 
 
 In a letter, written about the same time, in which he had 
 occasion to enlarge on the paramount duty of winning souls to 
 Christ, he observes, ' How, even in temporal things, His work
 
 520 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1859- 
 
 may bring down a blessing, I can show by what affected me 
 deeply yesterday. The people of Leeds are raising a fund to 
 present me with a parting testimonial, and a poor woman, a 
 pauper, went to the master of our house and gave him a four- 
 penny-piece, asking him to add it to the fund, because, she 
 said, that twenty years ago I was an instrument in God's hand 
 for the conversion of her daughter. The poor woman gave 
 her all, and the transaction to which she alluded has long 
 since passed from my memory. So wonderful are the things of 
 God!' 
 
 The true Christian, who lives in the habit of self-examina- 
 tion, and whose practice always falls so far short of the stan- 
 dard at which he aims, is wont to feel humiliated, rather than 
 elated, when honour and applause are bestowed upon him with 
 a lavish hand. And such is the feeling which seems to have 
 been uppermost, when the brief record of his last day in Leeds 
 was penned by the late Vicar in his journal. 
 
 ' This day I bade farewell to dear, dear Leeds. Oh ! my 
 God, when I look back to the past, how many, how wonderful 
 are thy mercies ! and what a poor weak sinner am I ! ' 
 
 And next day, with many a tear, and many a 'longing, 
 lingering look behind,' he tore himself away from the smoky 
 town, with its forest of chimneys, and its great grim piles of 
 warehouses and mills ; not an endearing place to the stranger's 
 eye, but full to him of tender memories, dear to him as the scene 
 of many hard-earned victories in the cause of the Church and 
 of education and social reform ; dear to him as the abode 
 of loving and grateful hearts. 
 
 And what a contrast between the Leeds as he entered it in 
 1837, and the Leeds as he left it in 1859 ! He found it a 
 stronghold of Dissent, he left it a stronghold of the Church ; 
 he found it one parish, he left it many parishes ; he found it 
 with fifteen churches, he left it with thirty-six ; he found it with 
 three schools, he left it with thirty ; he found it with six par- 
 sonage-houses, he left it with twenty-nine. 
 
 'The picture of your work,' wrote the Bishop of Lichfield 
 (Lonsdale), in congratulating him on his preferment to 
 Chichester, ' is, I fully believe, without a parallel, or anything
 
 -1 867 Settling at Chichester. 521 
 
 like a parallel in the ministry of our Church. You must indeed 
 feel uneas}' in your present ease.' 
 
 And so he did, until he had made for himself work of a 
 new kind. He came to Chichester at the end of July. The 
 Deanery was under repair, and the family resided for several 
 months in a house in South Street. The sudden cessation of 
 work, the complete relaxation of body and mind from the state 
 of tension to which both had been daily subjected for so many 
 years, and the softer climate of the south, experienced for the 
 first time in the heat of autumn, all combined to throw him for 
 a time into a condition of physical languor and even depression 
 of spirits. The forming acquaintance with persons who did 
 not stand to him in the interesting relation of a flock to their 
 pastor was at first strange and tedious to him, and the petty de- 
 tails of chapter business were irksome to one w^ho had long been 
 accustomed to deal with matters on a larger scale, to indicate 
 like the general in command, or the chief engineer, the main line 
 or principle of operation and leave the details to subordinates. 
 
 It was some time before he could take a lively interest in 
 the plans which were under discussion when he came into office 
 for remodelling the interior of the Cathedral. His predecessor, 
 Dean Chandler, besides spending 3,000/. upon the building 
 during his life, had bequeathed 2,000/. to be expended wholly 
 or in part upon rendering it more available for the purposes of 
 public worship. This sum w-as increased by public subscriptions, 
 and it was proposed that the whole should be devoted to the 
 execution of various improvements as a memorial to the late 
 Dean. Foremost amongst the alterations was to be the 
 opening of the nave to the choir, from which it had been parted 
 off by a massive screen, or rather vaulted passage of stone called 
 the Arundel shrine, upon' the top of which stood the organ, 
 and the pews and galleries by which the choir was encumbered 
 and disfigured were to be swept away. 
 
 The following letter from the new Dean, just before he 
 came to reside, to the Rev. C. A. Swainson,' has reference to 
 these designs. 
 
 ' Now Canon Residentiary of ihe Cathedral, and Lady Margaret Professor 
 at Cambridge.
 
 522 Life of Walter Farqiihm^ Hook. 1859- 
 
 To the Rev. C. A. Swaifison, Prebe7idary of Chichester — Pj-oposed 
 alterations in the arrangements of t]ie Cathedral., Chichester. 
 
 Leeds : June 1859. 
 
 I confess that I do not take much interest in the present move- 
 ment to alter the Cathedral, and I think if it could have been 
 delayed a year or two, the thing would have been done better ; but 
 the step was taken before my appointment, and I can only go on 
 with it. 
 
 You should create a demand before you think of a supply ; as 
 far as I can see, the present choir is sufficiently large for the con- 
 gregation, and the present movement will give offence to certain 
 respectable persons who have long slumbered in their pews, and do 
 not like the idea of being ousted from their aristocratic position. 
 Why enlarge the choir before the enlargement is demanded ? 
 Why not look first to the spiritual fabric and see w-hether tliat can 
 be enlarged ? If it cannot, we may as well remain as we are. 
 
 The course I should have supposed to have been best would 
 have been to secure a series of first-rate preachers for the afternoon^ 
 and so to fill the choir as to make it unpleasant and inconvenient 
 to all parties, who would then clamour for a favour at our hands, 
 which we could grant on our own terms ; instead of now going, 
 cap in hand, to ask for a patronage which will be grudgingly be- 
 stowed. Our first object should be to win souls to the Lord Jesus 
 Christ : when souls are caught, then there will be both peace and 
 zeal. 
 
 The Dean, however, himself soon created the demand which 
 he recommended in this letter. Hitherto it had been the custom 
 for one sermon only to be preached in the Cathedral on Sundays. 
 This was in the morning. The Dean only preached in his turn 
 with the Canons, resident and non-resident, and the Arch- 
 deacons. 
 
 On the first tAvo Sundays after Dr. Hook came into residence 
 the Archdeacon of Chichester preached ; and in his diary for 
 the second Sunday, the new Dean writes, ' Feel quite guilty at 
 having passed another " silent Sabbath. " ' He resolved that 
 no longer silent they should be. An act was passed in chapter 
 that henceforth there should be a sermon in the afternoon as 
 well as in the morning, and for the afternoon sermon the Dean.
 
 -1867 Begins Lives of ' Archbishops^ 523 
 
 made himself responsible. On Sunday, August 14, he writes in 
 his journal : ' I preached in the afternoon ; a large congregation ; 
 the Bishop was present. May our Heavenly Master, the great 
 Bishop of souls, bless the work now commenced ! ' The work 
 of alteration was soon afterwards begun in the choir and the 
 service was performed in the nave. 
 
 Having been placed on the Cathedral Commission in 1852 
 he had already acquired a good general knowledge of the con- 
 stitution of cathedral establishments in England, but on the 
 principle proclaimed in his first sermon at Chichester, of ' doing 
 with his might that which his hand found to do,' he lost no 
 time in making a careful study of the statutes of his own 
 Cathedral, that he might understand the exact limits of his 
 authority. Day after day, all through the month of August, may 
 be read in his journal, 'Busy in studying the Statutes,' 'Busy 
 with Acts of Chapter.' ' Translated the form of installing a 
 dignitary,' and the like. 
 
 But his energies were soon to be exercised on that far greater 
 work which was to be the chief employment of the remaining 
 years of his life. Mr. Bentley, the publisher, had asked Bishop 
 Wilberforce to write a series of lives of the Archbishops of 
 Canterbury, which the Bishop from lack of leisure, declined to 
 undertake. He suggested the new Dean of Chichester as 
 eminently qualified for the work ; and before the end of 
 September 1859, the scheme was floated, and in the following 
 letter to Mr. Bentley the author's first conception of the nature 
 of the work is sketched out. 
 
 The Deanery, Chichester : September 26, 1859. 
 My dear Sir, ... I think it may be expedient that I should 
 state the character of the work I contemplate. I design to write a 
 series of biographies, on philosophical principles, showing the in- 
 fluence of the age upon the individual, and, as the case may be, the 
 impress of the individual mind upon the age. I shall introduce 
 each life, or each group of lives, with a general review of the state 
 of affairs, political and ecclesiastical; I shall also trace the spirit of 
 the Reformation, gradually rising from an early period. In no case 
 will I slur over a fact or defend a character at the expense of truth :
 
 524 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1859- 
 
 but although I shall be as impartial as I can be, it will be with the 
 candid avowal that I write in the spirit of a Protestant of the Church 
 of England, in which spirit any comments that may be necessary 
 will be made. 
 
 The title I give as below : — 
 
 Title. 
 
 ' The Lives of the Archbishops of Canterbury : from the Mission 
 of Augustine till the Death of Howley. By Walter Farquhar Hook, 
 D.D., Dean of Chichester.' 
 
 This resolution to embark upon a large literary work may 
 be said to mark the beginning of a new epoch in his life. He 
 became a different being. The literary vein or element in his 
 character, always strong and active, but always from a sense of 
 duty, kept subordinate to the demands of his pastoral vocation, 
 had now free scope and became dominant once more, as it had 
 been in the days of his boyhood. The practical side of his 
 character receded, and at times almost vanished out of sight, 
 so that those who only knew him during this period could 
 scarcely believe that they saw in him one who had been the 
 most active and able parish priest of his generation. 
 
 But the change is easily accounted for. In the first place 
 the historical work in which he engaged was of a very laborious 
 and engrossing nature. People are apt to talk of ' literary ease ' 
 as if an author were always sitting in an arm-chair, and could 
 lazily scribble down any thoughts which float into his mind. 
 But it may be affirmed wdthout hesitation that all literary work 
 of high merit is the fruit of severe and very fatiguing toil. In 
 the composition, indeed, of poetry, and works of fiction, it may 
 be said that the only materials to be used are the products of 
 the \vriter's imagination ; — his ideas ; but these ideas have to 
 be sifted, marshalled into order and clothed in the best language 
 Avhich he can command ; and this is a very laborious process. 
 But the labour of the historian is perhaps still more exhausting. 
 He has to search for his materials, to select the most trust- 
 worthy sources of information, to balance conflicting evidence ; 
 sometimes he is perplexed by paucity of matter, sometimes by an
 
 -1 86; Fall of Calhedi^al Spire. 525 
 
 overwhelming and bewildering abundance ; sometimes a single 
 page is the expansion of facts painfully picked out from a great 
 variety of books or documents, sometimes it is the condensation 
 of whole volumes after careful perusal and reflection. Even the 
 physical exertion of taking down books from their shelves, hunt- 
 ing after those which have perversely gone astray just when they 
 are most wanted, turning over first one and then another, and 
 lastly sitting down at a table and driving the quill for hours, is 
 not small, and to an aged man becomes exceedingly fatiguing. 
 ' I cannot wield a folio,' was the complaint of Dean Milman in 
 his old age, 'as I used to do.' 
 
 The Dean of Chichester resolved to execute his task with 
 thoroughness. He consulted as far as possible original author- 
 ities, and was not content to take secondhand statements. The 
 work grew as he advanced far beyond the dimensions which he 
 had anticipated ; his own conception of it enlarged, and his 
 power of execution increased in proportion, until from a compiler 
 of the lives of primates he rose to be the historian of the Church 
 of England. The consequence, however, was that while his 
 literary ability and vigour for a time increased with experience 
 in his work, his practical powers diminished. There was little 
 scope for them in Chichester, and as the infirmities of old age 
 inevitably crept on, he had less and less strength and spirit to 
 spare from his literary labours for any other work. The wonder 
 is that he had so much. 
 
 The fall of the Cathedral spire in 1861 involved him for a 
 time in all that irksome work of begging, attending committees, 
 and making speeches, which he had looked forward to escaping 
 when he retired from Leeds. He did it and did it energetically, 
 but it was inexpressibly wearisome to him, and he often laments 
 in letters to Vice- Chancellor Wood and others, that he could 
 not call up any of his old Leeds enthusiasm for work of that 
 kind. The fall of the spire also entailed heavy expense upon 
 him when he could ill afford it ; for it occurred before he had 
 recovered from the expenses of removing from Leeds and re- 
 pairing the Deanery, and he thought it right to contribute one 
 year's incopie, 1,000/., to the restoration of the ruined faljric.
 
 526 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1859- 
 
 Hence, also, the literary work which he had begun rather as an 
 occupation for his leisure became a business at which he toiled 
 for the purpose of making money. 
 
 As soon as he had fairly set out upon his historical enter- 
 prise he resumed his early rising, which he had dropped for a 
 time on first coming to Chichester, and he maintained it un- 
 broken up to the last year or two of his life. 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, the absorbing interest of his work 
 and the pecuniary motives for speeding it which often pressed 
 upon him, he complied but too readily with the numerous 
 requests to preach or lecture which were continually being 
 made to him from all parts of the country. Sometimes, indeed, 
 these excursions were a refreshment and recreation to him ; 
 but as his bodily strength declined with the advance of age, he 
 returned enfeebled from his journeys, and disabled for the 
 labours of authorship. Yet he had so long been accustomed 
 to place his services with reckless self-forgetfulness at the dis- 
 posal of his friends, and to consider their applications for help 
 as calls of duty to be obeyed if it were possible, that he was 
 continually committing himself to engagements which over- 
 tasked his powers, and of which he bitterly repented when the 
 time came for fulfilling them. 
 
 At length, partly in jest, partly in earnest, he was made to 
 sign the following declaration, which was drawn up by one of 
 his sons : — 
 
 I hereby confess that I have done very foolishly of late in 
 undertaking too much preaching, contrary to the advice of my 
 wife and family, and I hereby promise from henceforth to attend to 
 all their admonitions in that respect. 
 
 Signed, W. F. HoOK, D.D., F.R.S. 
 
 [K. Cooke, 
 In the presence of - R. Hook, 
 [c. Hook. 
 
 But the ill-health of his wife after 1867, and her death in 
 187 1, from which the break-up of his own health may be said 
 to begin, checked the inclination to move far from home for
 
 -i867 Letters^ 1859-1867. 527 
 
 any purpose, and such remaining strength as he had was hence- 
 forth increasingly devoted to his history and his weekly preaching 
 in the Cathedral. 
 
 The period of his greatest vigour after he became Dean, 
 extended from i860 to 1867, in which year the state of his 
 wife's health first began to excite alarm. His energies during 
 this period were occupied primarily with his history, the first 
 five volumes having been published before the close of 1867 ; 
 secondarily, with the restoration of the Cathedral after the fall 
 of the spire ; thirdly, with writing lectures and sermons for 
 special occasions. His correspondence also was very voluminous, 
 for, besides old friends, former parishioners, and others, often 
 strangers, who applied to him for religious advice, he was now 
 constantly in communication with literary friends, more espe- 
 cially Professor Stubbs and Mr. E. A. Freeman, being under 
 great obligations to both for most valuable criticisms and sugges- 
 tions throughout the composition of his history. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 November 1859x0 December 1867. 
 
 To Vice-ChanccUor Wood. 
 
 Chichester : November i, 1859. 
 I am going to take a ten days' holiday in the north, and how 
 think ye the Northerners mean to entertain me ? Six sermons, 
 three meetings (which I hate), a large tea-party, and a lecture at 
 the Philosophical Hall. Now, your honour will please to observe 
 that this seems much to a southern Dean comfortably shelved ; and 
 till I had all my work well prepared, I could not find that pleasure 
 in writing to you which I now do. Do not be afraid, dear monitor, 
 of my incurring liabilities in the south. I do not feel called upon 
 to do so. I did so boldly in Leeds at one time, because unless I 
 had, nothing would have been done ; but here I consider all that 
 kind of work as finished. Our heavenly Father has placed me here 
 at the end of life to prepare my own soul for eternity, and those 
 whom I bring around me by my preaching. I am taking no active 
 part in the cathedral restoration, and have not asked for any sub-
 
 528 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1^59- 
 
 scriptions : I wish it to be clearly understood that it is not my 
 work. The alterations are made as a testimonial to my predecessor, 
 and all I have to do is to see that the work is well done. ... In 
 Leeds, on the contrary, everything depended upon me ; others 
 worked details, but the weight was on my shoulders. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 April so, i860. 
 
 This is the first letter written from the Deanery : we slept here 
 for the first time last night. At five o'clock this morning, I opened 
 my study window and walked upon my turf. The birds were sing- 
 ing delightfully. ... I lifted up my heart on high and prayed for 
 you and yours, and glorified Him who giveth a diversity of gifts, to 
 every man severally as He will. 
 
 The same hatred of injustice which prompted him to 
 stand up for Newman almost to the last, and to vote against 
 withholding the salary of the Greek professorship from Mr. 
 Jowett, fired up at the narrow-minded opposition offered to the 
 appointment of the Rev. F. Maurice to the Incumbency of 
 Oxford Chapel, St. Marylebone. He wrote the following letter 
 of sympathy to Mr. Maurice, and signed an address to the 
 Bishop of London in favour of the appointment. 
 
 Chichester : July 20, i860. 
 My dear Mr. Maurice, — If any steps are to be taken to pro- 
 tect you from this abominable puritan Persecution, I for one shall 
 be most happy to stand by you. I am not one of your disciples, 
 though I read you with edification, and because I differ from you 
 in some things, I may be the better friend in this infamous narrow- 
 mindedness. All parties should unite, or we shall be, many of us, 
 burned at the stake. Yours most truly. 
 
 To the Rev. W. Stubbs. 
 
 August 14, 1B60. 
 
 ... I ought now to tell you the nature of my work, or rather 
 its object and design. When you write, you write for the learned 
 few : I am writing for the million. I wish to produce a readable 
 history of the Church of England. I am not going to publish dis- 
 sertations or enter into discussions with the learned ; but where 
 facts are disputable I give in the text my own conclusions, and I 
 wish to refer the reader in the notes to the various authorities, that
 
 -i867 Letters, 1 859-1 867. 529 
 
 he may be at liberty to draw other conclusions if he will. I write 
 as a thorough Protestant John Bull, disliking everything foreign 
 and cordially hating Rome ; but, I trust, as an honest Christian 
 man, prepared to tell the truth even when it is against us, and so to 
 shame the devil. 
 
 Our Church begins with the commencement of the Middle 
 Ages, and is a history of the corruption of doctrine, until, the cor- 
 ruption becoming intolerable, the Reformation became a necessity. 
 A\'e then have the development of the Reformation till the Revolu- 
 tion of 1688 ; then the history of that Latitudinarianism which is to 
 develop itself into — what ? Shall we fear into infidelity ? That is 
 a subject for some future historian. 
 
 I am desirous at the same time, in every possible manner, to 
 sliow that Christianity was all the while doing its great work on the 
 souls of holy and humble men of heart ; that faith, though not 
 wholly independent of doctrine, can still justify amidst much 
 doctrinal corruption. It was not till the publication of the creed of 
 Pius that ihc faith was attacked. 
 
 To Sir IV. P. IVood — The Religious World. 
 
 Chichester : October i860. 
 . . . Do not take my allusion to the 'religious world'' as a 
 joke : it is part of my whole theory. I arrange my people under 
 the following heads : — 
 
 1. Religious men of the world, the highest type of whom is 
 
 among the laity, and among clerics, S. O.xon. 
 
 2. The really laborious and pious in a smaller sphere : unknown 
 saints, doing their work well, and thoroughly happy in their com- 
 munion with God. . . . 
 
 3. The religious world : good men, Imt narrow and exclusive, 
 working well, but without any expansiveness of love, and thoroughly 
 given up to party, with more of worldliness than they are conscious 
 of . . . They have in all ages assumed a name implying that 
 they and they only are the religious people. The monkish party 
 in the Middle Ages stood out from the Church, defied Episcopacy, 
 did what they pleased in parishes and dioceses, and called them- 
 selves ' the religious.' The same party now has added to the word 
 ' religious ' the word ' world ' — I hardly know why. 
 
 This party you will always find at the top of religious society 
 • See Inirotluction to vol. i. of Lives of the .Archbisltops, p. 8. 
 
 M M
 
 530 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1859- 
 
 doing much good, but perhaps more mischief. My object is to 
 show the good and the mischief done by them in every age : active 
 in good works, but adopting the fashionable formulas of error, in- 
 troduced the devil only knows how. 
 
 To tlie same. 
 
 November 15. 
 
 I have just received a note from Bentley to say that 1,500 copies 
 ■of my ' Archbishops ' were sold on the first day to the London 
 booksellers, and 1,000 copies ordered to be printed immediately for 
 country orders. 
 
 To R. Bentley, Esq. — Contemplates writing Lives 0/ the 
 Archbisiiops of York and of Armagh. 
 
 The Deanery, Chichester : December 2, i860. 
 My dear Sir, — I received a letter yesterday from Archdeacon 
 Churton, telling me that he had received a proposal from a respect- 
 able publisher for the publication of ' The Lives of the Archbishops 
 of York,' a kind of opposition to me. My answer has been, that 
 if ' The Lives of the Archbishops of Canterbury ' remunerate me for 
 my trouble, I shall forthwith commence ' The Lives of the Arch- 
 bishops of York,' to be followed by ' The Archbishops of Armagh.' 
 I mention this because it may be expedient for you to give a hint 
 to the trade that such a work is in contemplation ; it will never do 
 to have two works of this sort in the market at the same time. 
 
 To the Bishop of Oxford. 
 
 Chichester : January 28, 1861. 
 
 My dear Bishop, — In Elizabethan language ' I entreat you to 
 Ije good Lord to me ' and let me off from preaching this Lent. 
 
 I am in the middle of my second volume. I have to preach a 
 Lent course here, and to provide for certain sermons and lectures 
 at Leeds, and my medical friend warns me against undertaking more 
 mental work. So, I say it again, do let me off. 
 
 I am getting old — sixty-three next March. I am not, like you 
 and Origen, otnnifaiam doctus : my abilities are only moderate, 
 and cannot grasp many subjects at the same time. I am indeed 
 always absorbed in what I am about, imd I find it very difficult to 
 write upon a given subject. My sermons are the pourings-out of 
 sudden thoughts. I cannot beat my brains. I have not seen the
 
 -i867 Letters, 1 859-1 867. 531 
 
 ' Saturday Review,' but I will get it this day and will take it in. I 
 care little for reviews, except so far as they increase the sale of the 
 book. I always endeavour to do my best, and if my best is bad I 
 cannot help it. ... I do hope I may get back some people to a 
 wholesome ' Church of Englandism.' 
 
 To Sir W. P. Wood^Fall of Catlicdral Spire iiin>nncnt. 
 
 Chichester : February i8, 1861. 
 
 Before this reaches you, you will perhaps have heard that 
 Chichester steeple has fallen, and that our cathedral is a heap of 
 ruins. 
 
 Up to the time of my writing, the tower is standing ; what may 
 liappen in the course of the night I cannot say, but every hour 
 gives us strength. 
 
 Yesterday after service the builder informed us that he could 
 not answer for the security of the fabric for an hour. The men 
 worked all night ; a hundred workmen arrived this morning 
 Immense beams have been sent, and we are propping the tower 
 with timber ; and if we succeed in doing this, we shall then be able 
 to build up the four centre piers. Great progress has been made 
 but still, if a storm comes on to-night, it will, I fear, be all up witli 
 
 iUS. 
 
 We have made ourselves responsible for the amount of our in- 
 come, in trust that the public will be generous, and we have given 
 orders that no expense be spared. On that point we have no fears, 
 if it shall please God to crown with success our endeavours to save 
 this house. 
 
 Bulletin. 
 
 February 21. 
 
 Our patient survived the fearful storm of last night. We had 
 fifty men at work all night. There was some fearful oscillation of 
 the tower, and the main pier sank. If we could only have a few 
 days' calm weather it would be a comfort. We hope to have a 
 jacket round the main pier. I walk al)out like a guilty man, for 
 people will lay the blame on me, though I have done nothing : the 
 whole work began before I came here. 
 
 vSoon after one o'clock the same day the spire fell. Mrs. 
 Hook, from tlie front of the Deanery, saw it reel and then go 
 
 M M 2
 
 D32 
 
 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1859- 
 
 down. She then went into the study at the back of the house 
 and told the Dean, who had retired there knowing what must 
 happen. He was leaning over his table sobbing, his face 
 buried in his hands. 
 
 To Vicc-CJiancclIoj- Wood. 
 
 February 22, 1861. 
 My beautiful spire, my dear cathedral ! I was certainly too 
 happy ; and so far as this is concerned, I thank our heavenly 
 Father for His chastisement ; but the poor Chichester people have 
 lost the one distinction of their city. . . . [He then discusses 
 various schemes — some of them rather wild ones — for raising money 
 to pay his share towards the rebuilding.] One thing, however, I have 
 determined : I ivill rebuild the spire, if I beg my bread, if God 
 will but preserve my life for the seven years which remain till I an^ 
 threescore and ten. 
 
 To f/w same. 
 
 Sunday, February 24, 1861. 
 I do not like to show my face in Chichester, so I am going to 
 preach in the country. You know me as I know myself : I am soon 
 knocked down, and then I squeak, but I soon get up again, and I 
 hope to regain my energy ; but something, I am sure, is bodily 
 in all this : the will must overcome the body, but the great fat body 
 first of all paralyses the will. 
 
 To R. Bc/iihy, Esq. — Fall oj Chicliestcr Cathedral Spire — Delay 
 to Literaty Work. 
 
 The Deanery, Chichester : February 24, i86i. 
 My dear Sir, — I will send the volume early next week, God 
 willing. I had fully hoped to have the second volume ready by the 
 spring, but that is now impossible. You have heard of our dread- 
 ful calamity : my beautiful cathedral is in ruins, and I must devote 
 my mind and time to raise funds for its restoration. I have little 
 doubt, however, that I shall, God permitting, be ready with the 
 second volume in October, and with the third in the following 
 spring. What 1 have now to do will only interfere with my literary 
 labour for a month or si.x weeks. On Tuesday next we have a 
 public meeting, when I mean to contribute towards the restoration 
 of ihft cathedral my gains from the ' Archbishops ' : if you can
 
 -1 867 Letters, 1859- 1867. 533 
 
 make a rough guess of what my gains from the first volume will 
 be, I should hope to be able to state it ; I presume, of course, that 
 the statement will only be an approximation to the truth. 
 
 Yours, in great sadness. 
 
 To the Hon. and Rev. Francis Grey — Fall of Cathedral Spire. 
 The Deanery, Chichester : March 8, 1861. 
 
 iVIy dear Mr. Grc}-, . . . You will have seen the calamity whicli 
 has befallen our beautiful cathedral. 1 am thereby involved in the 
 kind of work from which I fled when I sank down into a deanery, 
 and quitted dear old Leeds and Yorkshire. Committees and sub- 
 committees are again the order of the day — begging and speechify- 
 ing — all of which I heartily dislike, and all of which, therefore, is 
 wholesome work for Lent. 
 
 Most truly yours. 
 
 7*1? the same. 
 
 Ventnor, Isle of Wight: March 13, my birthday, i86r. 
 
 I intended to send you a line before starting yesterday, to say 
 that the Queen gives 250/. and the Prince 100/. 
 
 I have come here for two days of absolute seclusion : for the 
 good of my soul. I enter this day my si.xty-fourth year. Having 
 led an active life, I require more time at the end of it for medita- 
 tion and self-examination. Pray for a poor penitent ; but I know 
 you do. 
 
 To Sir U\ P. Wood— ^ Meeting at Brighton to raise Money for 
 rebuilding Spire. 
 
 Chichester : March 22, 1861. 
 
 The meeting at Brighton yesterday was a great success. I 
 could not write to say so yesterday evening, for we were so tired on 
 our return that we took a Lenten repast and went to bed, where we 
 remained for ten hours. I am now beginning to breathe again and 
 to feel comfort. 
 
 The sum of 14,300/. was raised in the room. .Scott's estimate 
 is 50,000/. Lord Chichester, the Lord-Lieutenant, presided. The 
 Duke of Richmond read the report, and made a very sensible 
 speech, containing a quotation from a celebrated work, the ' Lives 
 of the Archbishops.' The J3ishop of Oxford outdid himself. My
 
 534 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook, 1859- 
 
 wife says that your humble sei\ant spoke well. This j^ave me 
 pleasure, for when I sat down I remembered that I had forgotten 
 half I had intended to say, and mangled in the delivery points- 
 which I expected to be telling. This mortification of vanity is all 
 risfht so long as nothing material was omitted. 
 
 To the savie — Tlic W'ritos of ' Essays and Rcvie^us^ 
 
 Chichester : October i86r. 
 
 . . . B does not agree with any one of the Essayists en- 
 tirely, but he seems to do so on the whole, and is all for freedom of 
 enquiry. I have told him that nobody objects to freedom of enquiry 
 and opinion, but all object to dishonesty. If the writers had re- 
 signed their preferments they would at least have proved their 
 sincerity, but what we object to is their obtaining an extensive 
 hearing for their opinions from the circumstance of their being 
 English clergymen — their opinions would otherwise have been 
 comparatively harmless, except to themselves. 
 
 To the same — On the Death of the Prince Consort. 
 
 Chichester : December i6, 1861. 
 
 The present public calamity comes upon us like a private 
 affliction and I know how yoii^ in the dual number, will feel it. 
 We must pray for the Queen. The blow to her must be awful. 
 When we grow old we become habituated to the loss of friends ; 
 not that our feelings are blunted, but they arc calmed by the 
 thought that we shall soon follow. But the separation of two 
 lovers in middle life, after a long career of uninterrupted happi- 
 ness ! Oh ! what can support the poor Queen, but an abundance 
 of grace from the Divine Comforter, for which a nation's prayers 
 will go up to the Throne of Grace. 
 
 I am one of those who are rendered gloomy by the anticipation 
 or fear of evil, which is indicative of insufficient faith, but when an 
 evil has occurred, my faith always rebounds, and I not only believe 
 it to be, but seem to see it, as a blessing in disguise. 
 
 It may be that this calamity in early life was required to make 
 the young princes think. They may require schooling in adversit)', 
 as their mother was bettered by prosperity. For the Prince of 
 Wales we must indeed earnestly pray.
 
 -i867 Letters, 1859-1867. 535 
 
 To the Grand Master of the Order of Odd Felloivs and the Board 
 of Directors — Oji the Death of the Prince Consort. 
 
 Deanery, Chichester: April 28, 1862. 
 
 Dear Sirs and Brothers, — When, in the year 1858, Her Majesty 
 the Queen, and His Royal Highness the Prince Consort, visited 
 Leeds for the purpose of opening the Town Hall, the committee of 
 tlie United Friendly Benefit Societies unanimously appointed me 
 to sign in their behalf the dutiful and loyal address to Her Majesty, 
 ^vhich they also commissioned me to present. 
 
 This high honour was conferred upon me, as on other grounds, 
 so on the ground of my having been for more than fifteen years an 
 active member of the Order of Odd Fellows ; and feeling that I 
 have done nothing subsequently to forfeit the confidence then 
 placed in me by the operative classes of the North, I venture to 
 address the Order through you at the present time. 
 
 My object in doing so is to propose that at the next meeting of 
 the A. M. C, on Whit Monday, we express our sympathy with our 
 beloved and widowed Queen, and testify our admiration of the 
 talents, the wisdom, the domestic virtues, the patriotic exertions of 
 tlie noble-hearted Prince, who, having adopted England for his 
 country, won his way to every truly British heart. He was eminent 
 as a statesman, as a man of literature, as a man of science, and as the 
 patron of the artist and of the skilled artisan, but ht\\a.s pre-eminently 
 distinguished for the enlightened zeal which he invariably mani- 
 fested in the cause of social progress. His heart's desire was to 
 increase the comforts, to elevate the position, and to ennoble the 
 character of the operative classes of society, by offering increased 
 facilities for education in every department of human knowledge, 
 and by encouraging those habits of temperance, prudence, and 
 brotherly love which form the object and principles of our Order. 
 
 What I venture to suggest is, that each member of our Order 
 should subscribe one penny in addition to their present payments, 
 as our subscription towards the erection of a monument to the 
 memory of the Prince, whose death is a national calamity, and calls 
 for a manifestation of public gratitude. Money thus collected, 
 from an order which numbers nearly half-a-million of members, 
 will be a noble contribution, and as a friendly rivalry exists among 
 the various benefit societies (and as many of us, myself among 
 the number, belong to several) I have very little doubt that the
 
 536 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 1859-- 
 
 example set by the Odd Fellows will soon be followed by our other 
 friends. 
 
 1 itm, dear Sirs, 
 
 Your faithful brother and servant 
 
 To Sir ]V. P. Wood. 
 
 Chichester : May 19, 1862. 
 
 I wish in the first place to complain of the treatment I received 
 at my hotel in Great George Street.' I do not like to find fault ; 
 but if the landlady does not mend her manners, I don't know what 
 \\\\\ happen. When I arrived, she appeared all dressed out in 
 grandeur on the top of the staircase, and exclaimed in shrill tones, 
 ' What have you come for ? We didn't expect you. We haven't 
 a hole or corner in which to stow you. What can have induced 
 you to come here ? ' And so on. I shouldn't so much have minded 
 it for myself, but there were several persons present, and what they 
 must have thought of it I cannot tell. I went off immediately and 
 found lodgings at an hotel in Arlington Street.'^ 
 
 I beg leave to pay my bill with my draft enclosed. 
 
 Pump at Aldeksgate. 
 
 Messrs. Drinkwater, Dropsy, & Co. 
 
 Pay to the Landlady of 'The Vice-Chancellor's Wig,' or order, five 
 thousand six hundred and ten drauglits of cold water. 
 
 r, W. F. Hook. 
 
 «f I r 5610 o o 
 
 To Bishop Wilberforce — A Nciuspaper icanied, to do justice to the 
 
 Church. 
 
 July 1862. 
 
 . . . The two classes I have mentioned are great readers, but 
 read only newspapers. But you will not find in any of our great 
 towns any newspaper worth reading, which understands Church 
 principles, or supports the Church. There may be a Conservative 
 paper which damns us with a faint patronage, afraid to say much, 
 for fear of losing to the Conservative cause a few Methodist votes. 
 
 ' The residence of Vice-Chancellor Wood. 
 
 2 Residence of his brother, Robert Hook, Esq.
 
 -i867 Letters, 1859- 1867. 537 
 
 But \ve are damaged by journals such as these. We cannot obtain 
 a hearing without a considerable outlay, though in the end, I feel 
 sure, we should succeed. 
 
 If you will raise about 30,000/. 1 think you may do much, by 
 purchasing some telling newspaper — in Leeds, Manchester, Li\'er- 
 pool, Sheffield, Cheltenham, Brighton, &€. — paying a really well- 
 informed editor a thousand per annum for five years, and expending 
 about 500/. to pay contributors. At the end of five years it will be 
 a gaining concern. 
 
 I am not speaking of a religious journal : — a religious news- 
 paper is a nuisance — 1 speak of a common newspaper which shall 
 be liberal on points of social reform, and as you like in politics. 
 What we want are clever newspapers which will state the truth 
 about the Church ; which will not engage in petty polemics, but 
 will really convey information, and counteract those false state- 
 ments which at present Liberal journals invent in malice, and 
 Consen'ative journals circulate in ignorance. 
 
 To I'icc-CJiaiicclIoi- Wood. 
 
 July 1862. 
 Since I have been a Dean, 1 have come to a conclusion at 
 •which you must have arrived long ago. It would be a good thing 
 for the charitable public to take our incomes into their own hands, 
 and, after deducting household expenses, spend the rest, as the 
 said charitable public may think proper. It would save stamps for 
 letters and time in the writing of them. What used to be petitions 
 ■come now before us almost as demands. 
 
 The first two volumes of his history, especially the life of 
 Anselm, were rather unfavourably criticised in some of tlie 
 leading reviews. This accounts for the rather despondent tone 
 Avhich marks the following fragments of letters, written during 
 the latter part of this year, to Mr. Bentley and Vice-Chancellor 
 Wood. 
 
 It will be impossible for me to be ready for the press before the 
 spring (of 1863;. The first two volumes have suffered materially 
 from haste, and it will be very difficult to make the next volume an 
 interesting one. . . . 
 
 1 had almost made up my mind to lay the work aside : but I
 
 53S Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1859- 
 
 spent last week at Worcester, where I read a life of Wulfstan 
 before the Archa:ological Institute ; and the manner in which the 
 students of history' spoke of my 'Archbishops' encourages me to- 
 resume my labour. . . . 
 
 I made a mistake in the selection of my subject. A few years 
 ago any work relating to the Church of England would have sold. 
 I had not marked the change in the times. Now, among literary 
 men generally there is a dislike of the Church, if not an hostility 
 to Christianity. The clergy, as a body, are not in the present age 
 reading men. For ordinary readers the work is too dry, and 
 among critics there is a jealousy and dislike of everyone who does 
 not belong to their little clique. 
 
 He soon rallied, however, front this state of unreasonable 
 depression. If easily downcast by disapprobation, he was no 
 less easily cheered by encouragement. His extreme sensitive- 
 ness, indeed, to praise or blame was part of the childlike sim- 
 plicity of his nature. His favourable reception at Worcester 
 by distinguished members of the Archaeological Institute, and 
 his election as a Fellow of the Royal Society the year after — 
 small matters as they might seem — really raised his spirits in 
 no slight degree. On the other hand, much dejected as he 
 was at first by the unfavourable criticism of his first twO' 
 volumes, he profited largely by the lessons which they taught 
 him. He became more careful and deliberate in his work. 
 Volumes iii. and iv. were brought out together in 1865. They 
 were concerned with the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, 
 one of the most difficult periods to deal with in English 
 history, yet they are full of life, freshness, and interest. From 
 this point the work obtained the increasing approval of those 
 who were most competent to judge of its merits, and its success 
 may be said to have been assured. 
 
 During the composition, however, and progress through the 
 press of these two volumes his spirits again sank at times to a 
 very low ebb. This was the result of a combination of circum- 
 
 ' Dr. Stanley, Mr. Freeman, Mr. Foss, and Mrs. Green were present at 
 tliis meeting.
 
 -1 86; Letters, 1859-186 7. 539 
 
 stances. The sale of his first two volumes was not so remune- 
 rative as had been expected, and this at a time when an acces- 
 sion to income would have been peculiarly acceptable for 
 various reasons, 'As I grow old,' he writes, 'I am becoming 
 enamoured of money, but the fair damsel will not smile upoii 
 me. ' And in another letter : ' Everything is going against me 
 in my old age. I have failed in everything. When I think, 
 however, of the raw material I had to work, and the diabolical 
 temper with which I was cursed, I think it a marvel that I 
 have got on as well as I have : this is my one hope for here- 
 after But I cannot get up the steam — I am broken 
 
 down ; a fat old cumberer of the earth.' But these fits of 
 dejection were shortlived ; often, indeed, they were dissipated 
 by the very act of pouring out his complaints to his sympathis- 
 ing friend Vice-Chancellor Wood ; and he plodded manfully 
 on at his work, rising sometimes as early as half-past three in 
 order to get through the amount which he had allotted to him- 
 self as his day's task. 
 
 To Rev. A. P. Sta>ilc)\ D.D. — On his appoinlincnt to tJtc JJcancry 
 of ]l 'cstDiinstcr. 
 
 Chichester : November 15, 1863. 
 
 I cannot help writing to tell )-ou how glad I am that you are to 
 be the new Dean of Westminster. Never was a better appoint- 
 ment made, and it must be in accordance with your own tastes and 
 feelings. You will be surrounded by historical associations, and 
 will be provoked into describing scenes connected with the very 
 vitals of English history. 
 
 The history of the Sanctuary of Westminster, what a tale could 
 that locality tell of broken hearts, and disappointed hopes, and deeds 
 of virtue and of crime ! May I be permitted also to congratulate 
 you on your approaching marriage. I look upon a good wife as a 
 means of grace intended l^y God to soften man's heart, and to pre- 
 pare it for that heavenly joy which is experienced by those over 
 whose hearts the love of God is shed by the Holy Ghost, through 
 our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. How all is love when we 
 approach our Lord I
 
 540 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1859- 
 
 To Bis /i op Wilbcrforcc— Declines to sii^n Declaration against J if dg- 
 ment of the Privy Council in favour of Dr. ]Vil/ia>ns and Mr. 
 Wilson.^ 
 
 Chichester : Marcli 19, 1864. 
 
 My dear IJishop,— 1 am quite determined 7Jot to sign the 
 Declaration. 
 
 After the sin I committed in taking part against Hampden, 
 without having first examined his works, prompted rather by zeal 
 than by a spirit of justice, I vowed a vow that 1 would never take 
 part in similar proceedings until I had thoroughly investigated the 
 subject. 
 
 You know my reasons generally for objecting to the Declaration, 
 because I am, of course, aware that you have been in correspond- 
 ence with Vice-Chancellor Wood. We had fully discussed the 
 subject before the Judgment was given ; as the Archbishop of 
 'Canterbury had told me, and the Lord Chancellor had told him, 
 what the Judgment would be. I will publish my reasons if you 
 wish it, but, having retired from the world, 1 would avoid controversy 
 if possible. 
 
 I object to any immediate action which will seem to place indi- 
 viduals in opposition to a decision of the Court of Law, and make 
 it appear that we are the evaders of the law instead of those who 
 by the Judgment are admitted to be, though not punishable, yet 
 ■equivocators. 
 
 I am afraid that we cannot doubt, from the whole scheme of 
 Christianity, that the consequences of sin are eternal, and that, 
 opposed to the Papists, we must regard this world as our only 
 purgatory, overwhelmingly, horribly awful as the conclusion is. But 
 to make ' punishment ' an equivalent for the word koKiktls, without 
 explanation, is, in my opinion, considering the state of public feeling, 
 most unwise. 
 
 The whole subject must be now fully sifted through controvers)-. 
 As to an attempt to silence men by authority, you must remember 
 that there is only one authority before which the mind of England 
 lies prostrate, and that the ' Times ' is against us. . . . 
 
 1 Two of the writers in Essays and Reviews, who had been condemned in 
 •the Court of Arches, but were acquitted by the Judicial Committee of the 
 Privy Council.
 
 -1 867 Letters, 185 9- 1867. 541 
 
 In a speech made at a Conservative meeting at Oxford in 
 May 1864, Lord Robert Cecil (now Marquis of Salisbury) 
 said : ' It has been observed that no one can be a good Con- 
 servative who is not also a good Churchman. I beg to invert 
 the proposition. Depend upon it, no Churchman exists 
 worthy of the name who is not also a good Conservative.' This 
 singular assertion, which was in keeping with the general tone 
 of the meeting, provoked the Dean to write the following letter, 
 which appeared in the 'Times ' of January 9.* 
 
 On the Co/nie.vio7i of PolHical Parties with the Ciiitixh of England, 
 31 Great George Street, Westminster : June 7. 
 
 Sir, — I am compelled by a sense of justice to request your per- 
 mission to ofter a few observations upon a manifesto which has 
 lately emanated from a party in Oxford, whose object it is to bring 
 the Church of England back to the false position it occupied at the 
 close of the last and the commencement of the present centuries, 
 and to make it subservient to the purposes of apolitical party. We 
 may feel confident that a retrograde movement will not be per- 
 mitted by those who took an active part in Church matters some 
 thirty or forty years ago. They maintained, and will still maintain, 
 that the Church, a national institution, is concerned with politics 
 only so far as politics form a department of morals, that is to say 
 so far as they relate to those principles which all Englishmen hold 
 in common. We assert that the Church is elevated above those 
 controversies which have reference merely to the application ta 
 existing circumstances of these our common principles, that appli- 
 cation of our principles through which we become Whigs or Tories, 
 Conservatives or Radicals, as the case may be. We may range 
 ourselves with any of these parties as we see fit ; our political rela- 
 tions have nothing to do with our position as Churchmen. 
 
 But although we may be confident that there can be no retro- 
 gression in this respect, yet, as I was for many years a parochial 
 minister in a district where Churchmen were not inactive, I am in 
 duty bound to affirm that I always found among the Liberals some 
 of the most enlightened, the best-informed, and the most munificent 
 
 ' It was this letter which excited so much admiration on the part of the 
 Dean's old Birmingham scholar (see above, p. 89), and brought them into 
 communication again after the lapse of thirty-five years.
 
 542 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1859- 
 
 supporters of the Church of England. Within the last few weeks 
 no less a sum has been i-aised within the borough of Leeds for 
 Chuich purposes than 25,000/. and there is little doubt that the sum 
 ^vill be doubled before half a year shall have elapsed. The origin- 
 ator of this fund is a gentleman who, though distinguished for his 
 moderation, has always belonged to the Liberal party. Some of 
 the largest contributors to the fund are Liberals, and one of them 
 ^\ as elected some years ago by the Liberal party to represent the 
 borough in Parliament. Within the last month I have been con- 
 sulted by a gentleman, who sat as a Liberal in the Parliament before 
 the present one, on a plan he has devised to raise a large sum of 
 money to increase the episcopate in the north of England. The 
 venerated diocesan under whom I acted for nearly a quarter of a 
 century, although he took no active part in politics, had been 
 attached to the Liberal party before his consecration and voted 
 with it in the House of Lords. Of him, without fear of contradiction, 
 I may say that he was a model of what a bishop ought to be. I 
 date this letter from the house of another Churchman, whose Church 
 principles have been identified with my own from our early man- 
 hood — from the time when we first thought sincerely of religion ; 
 and he has not only been through life what some would call an ad- 
 vanced Liberal, but he served as .Solicitor-General under a Liberal 
 Government, and was by a Liberal Minister appointed to the office 
 ■of a Judge. 
 
 I am only bearing testimony ; 1 am only speaking of facts with 
 which I have been myself connected or concerned. There are 
 others who can bear witness to the same effect. 
 
 I am not asserting that Liberals are better Churchmen than 
 Conservatives. If the Conservatives were attacked, I should bear 
 the like testimony to their munificence and zeal. I only affirm that 
 the Church of England belongs to no party or faction in the State. 
 They who differ most widely in their application of our common prin- 
 ciples, Whig and Tory, Conservative and Radical, may all find in the 
 Church their bond of union, and meet together in brotherly love. 
 
 As I have borne testimony to the Churchmanship of Liberals, 
 permit me to write a few words also in behalf of the working classes. 
 For thirty years I lived among the working classes in the manu- 
 facturing districts ; I worked with them, I learned to honour and 
 respect them. I bear testimony to the wonderful advance which 
 has been made by this class of society during this period, to their 
 gradual formation of habits, both of prudence and temperance, and
 
 -186; Letters, 1 859-1 867. 54; 
 
 to their cultivation of the other virtues to which social science has 
 called attention. I do, therefore, heartily rejoice to find that the 
 leaders of the two great parties in the country, the Earl of Derby, 
 emphatically the friend of the working man, and Mr. Gladstone, 
 have arrived at the conclusion that the time has come when, to in- 
 clude a considerable portion of this meritorious class of our country- 
 men and brethren, there must be an extension of the suffrage. I 
 rejoice to find that these great statesmen are prepared to promote 
 good-will among men by offering as a boon what, if delayed, will with 
 much ill-feeling be demanded as a right. The principle is conceded ; 
 the extent of its application is a secondary consideration. 
 
 To E. A. Free man, Esq. 
 
 September 12, 1864. 
 
 First of all, let me thank you for what you have said of St. 
 Anselm and St. Thomas. You have opened to me a world of 
 thought, or, to change the figure, you have ignited a train of mental 
 ^npowder of which you may hear the report hereafter, if an old 
 man of sixty-seven may talk of an hereafter in this world. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 November 30, 1864. 
 
 I am writing a long letter, and in a less scrambling hand than 
 usual, because I have done with vol. iv. I have, indeed, nearly 
 completed vol. v. But iv. is now with the printer. As so much of 
 vol. V. is ready, I may mention that any literary job you can get for 
 me, I will gladly undertake, for the sake of filthy lucre. When I 
 have paid my 100/. a year to our spire, and a similar sum to Queen 
 Anne, my professional income is only 800/. And although my living 
 at Leeds w^as a good one, I could not have done a quarter of a 
 century ago what I did then, unless I had spent freely, and set an 
 example of that liberality with which that noble place abounds, but I 
 left the parish a poorer man by 4,000/. than I was when I entered il. 
 Consequently, while I have still two sons at the University, I look 
 ■with some anxiety to the proceeds of my literary labours. 
 
 I do not know how Mr. Public will receive the two volumes I 
 am now giving him. 1 am afraid the ' religious world ' will be 
 offended, because, in writing the lives of the Archbishops of the 
 Middle Ages, I have been writing the lives of statesmen and 
 lawyers, rather than divines ; most of the Archbishops were Prime
 
 544 ^if^ ^f ^(^li^'y Fdrqithar Hook. 1859- 
 
 Ministers, and some of them were great men in that character. 
 People make a great mistake in supposing that, in the Middle Ages, 
 ecclesiastics sought civil employments for Church purposes. The 
 veiy reverse is the correct view. Statesmen and lawyers, men 
 educated as such, when devoting themselves to the civil service of 
 their country, accepted Church preferments instead of salaries, and 
 so used the Church for State purposes. 
 
 To Sir \V. P. Wood. 
 
 Chichester : December 28, 1864. 
 
 I do not know that the army is a profession we should select, 
 but my experience induces me to think that it is an admirable school 
 for those who will make the army their profession; and the highest 
 examples of Christian excellence have been found, from the time of 
 Cornelius to Havelock, in militarj' men. Where dangers are the 
 greatest, the converted heart finds grace strongest. ... I am 
 amused sometimes at seeing how much more simply very great folk 
 live than the moneyed aristocracy — the merchants with whom I am 
 most familiar. . . . One likes to get glimpses of life in classes either 
 higher or lower than our own. One generally sees simple tastes in 
 the old aristocracy ; pomp in the noiiveaux riches ; good breeding, 
 and a desire to please, in what Col)den calls the aristocratic portion 
 of the working classes. 
 
 To Sir }J'. P. Wood — An iniervieiv ivith Ranke in ike Slate Paper 
 
 Office. 
 
 Chichester : Jvine 24, 1865. 
 
 When I was in the Rolls House, Air. Hardy told me that a 
 German was in the next room collecting materials for a life of 
 William III. He said IVIacaulay had only written the life of William 
 for the English. ' No,' said Mr. Hardy, 'not for the English, but 
 for the Whigs' The German was Ranke. I had thought of 
 Ranke, the author of the ' History of the Popes,' as an old classic. 
 It never crossed my mind that he could be living and writing. 
 That work of his is one of the few of this age which will live for 
 ever. 
 
 ' Shall I ask him to step in here,' said Mr. Hardy, ' or will you 
 call on him ? ' Of course, I chose the latter alternative as the more 
 respectful. I expected to see a gigantic German, a kind of knock-
 
 -i867 Letters, 1 859-1 867. 545 
 
 me-down author, when I was presented to a diminutive, untidy, 
 good-natured, chatty, unpretending man, more like a Frenchman 
 than a German. You know my bump of veneration is strong for 
 great men, and I bowed low, but he, being nearer the ground, bowed 
 lower still. I mentioned my obligations to the ' History of the 
 Popes.' ' Ah ! ' he said, ' you will make use of me now that you are 
 coming to my period. I am impatient to see the fifth volume ; you 
 will have to touch on Germany.' At this proof of my fame being 
 European, I raised my head, and could not lower it sufficiently to 
 see my little friend until I sat down. I did sit down, and informa- 
 tion oozed out of him from ever)^ pore. 
 
 False Humility — Reconciliation of Friends. 
 
 December 21, 1865. 
 
 jMy dear Captain INIoorsom, — I agree with you in what you say 
 about men's feeling proud when they profess humility, &c. This 
 shows that we ought not to talk about religion except to the 
 spiritual friend, who knows our whole state — I mean, of course, 
 subjective religion. Where it is a duty to speak of one's religious 
 feelings, there is grace given to prevent the conversation from 
 being injurious ; where we speak freely of virtues to a person who 
 knows our faults, there is seldom any detriment caused to the 
 soul. But to speak even of faults to one not thoroughly acquainted 
 with us is a snare, for the impression generally felt is, 'How strange 
 that so good a man should have such a fault ! One could think it 
 scarcely possible, and it is counteracted by so many virtues that in 
 him it is scarcely a fault at all.' In short, the less we talk of our 
 spiritual state to others, or think of their spiritual state, the better — 
 unless there be some spiritual object in view. Of all horrible jobs, 
 the most horrible is a strict self-examination as to motives ! It is 
 enough sometimes to drive a sane man mad. From all strict self- 
 examinations we rise hating self. But oh ! what comfort there is 
 when we have to apply to our souls that most blessed of texts — 
 If any man sin, we have an advocate,' &c. We see how much we 
 need forgiveness in the first instance, and in the next how much 
 cause to love. 
 
 If you wish to reconcile Mr. A. and Mr. C. you must avoid 
 explanations ; when explanations once begin, another quarrel 
 ensues. I would go to Mr. A., and ask him whether he wished to 
 promote God's glory ? and when he answers in the affirmative, I 
 
 N N
 
 546 Life of Walter Favquhar Hook. 1859- 
 
 would say, ' Air. C. does the same : be ye therefore friends,' and I 
 would then do the same by Mr. C. 
 
 Too much thought of self is at the bottom of the quarrel. I 
 wish someone who has a right to speak would tell them so. You, 
 of course, cannot. As a spiritual adviser, I have reconciled friends 
 by being able to point out this fact to one of the parties at least. 
 It is astonishing how much God's work is impeded by our not 
 sacrificing self. 
 
 To E. A. ]'">■€€ ma 11, Esq. 
 
 January i, 1866. 
 
 I write 'my Lives' conscientiously, dealing gently with the 
 characters of those whom I shall probably soon meet in the other 
 world, but I believe most impartially. When you see my Life 
 of Cranmer, I think you will be of opinion that I do justice to 
 all parties, though my inclination is to be too lenient, as yours 
 is to be too severe, in your judgments. I have striven to guard 
 against my fault. You, I see, take the popular view of Cranmer's 
 character, and forget that he did not commence life, or even his 
 primacy as a Protestant. A Protestant he did not become till the 
 middle of Edward VI.'s reign. As to persecution, I have my 
 theory on that subject, which will appear, God permitting, in my 
 introductory chapter. I am glad that burning is gone out of 
 fashion, for I am quite persuaded that both the Puritans and the 
 leading scientific men, and the Liberals in politics, as distinguished 
 from honest Radicals, would soon unite in burning me. What a 
 fine blaze my fat carcase would make ! 
 
 To Mrs. Henry Clarke — a list of Engage)>icnts. 
 
 Deanery, Chichester: September ir, 1866. 
 
 My dear Aunt Clarke, . . . When I shall be able to join you at 
 Northfield I do not know, for it is on anything but a holiday that I 
 am going. I shall have to preach, lecture, or speechify three or 
 four times a week. I so hate public meetings, not having the gift 
 of extempore speaking, that I decline attending them in general. 
 But what can a fellow do ? Sir John Coleridge asks me to speak 
 at Exeter, and the Archbishop of York at York ; and a request 
 from Col. Akroyd and Mr. Wheatley Balme is to me as a command. 
 So that now I have to preach, on the 21st, an anniversary sermon 
 at what was poor Laurell's church in London. On the 23rd, I have
 
 -i867 Letters, 1 859-1 867. 547 
 
 to preach for Miss Gilbert's Institute; on the 25th, to speak for 
 S.P.G. at Exeter; on the 26th, to preach for choirs at Tiverton ; 
 on the 27th to speak at a school dinner, in which Walter's new 
 relations are interested ; then to Leeds, three sermons and two 
 lectures ; then to York, speak at Congress and sermons on Sun- 
 day ; then two sermons at Berwick-on-Tweed. Lecture at New- 
 castle. Sermons at Morpeth, and at Sheffield. Lecture at Derby. 
 While these evils are impending, Mr. Bentley writes that if my 4th, 
 5th, and 6th volumes are not ready in December, it will be a 
 pecuniaiy loss, as in the spring people will be busy in politics ; but 
 I cannot write away from my books. . . . 
 
 To Mrs. Hook — jMccting old Friends. 
 
 Headingley, Leeds : October 1866. 
 
 Here I am at last in our old home. The darkness, the smoke, 
 and the dirt have certainly increased, but there are still as warm 
 hearts as ever. All along the line from Derby it was a shaking of 
 hands at almost every station Aly old friend, Richworth, who was 
 in the first class that I formed at Leeds, and whose appointment 
 to the station at Derby was a loss to me twenty-eight years ago, 
 has risen to be station-master. People were evidently amused at 
 our greeting. I exclaimed, * Why, Richworth, how old and fat you 
 have grown ! ' He returned the compliment, and then we talked 
 of old times and how we had both risen to comfortable berths in 
 our old age. At Sheffield junction the ticket-collector exclaimed, 
 
 * Why it's t' old Doctor,' and gave me his fist, and called two subs to 
 ■do the same. . . . When we stopped at the triangle at Leeds there 
 sat on the wall an engine-man. He looked at me for a time, and 
 then poked his oily fist into the carriage, ' Eh ! Mister Hook, come 
 to see t' old place again.'" His comrade joined him and added, 
 
 * Come for Reform Meeting on Friday, eh ! Doctor .f" and then we 
 all laughed. At the station I was surrounded by friends. 
 
 To Vice-Chancellor Wood. 
 
 Cliichester : November 1866. 
 
 1 greatly enjoyed my visits to Castle Howard and to Escrick. 
 
 In both places I have been entertained as if I were a duke, and 
 
 told never to wait for an invitation, but to consider myself as a 
 
 visitor whenever I came to the North of England. This is not an 
 
 N N 2
 
 54^ Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1859- 
 
 appeal to my vanity. It is because I am remembered as having- 
 fought the Church's battles in times gone by. Many persons tell 
 me that they owe much to me. After the abuse I have received, 
 this is pleasant. High-bred people are certainly agreeable com- 
 panions. They make you feel so much at home. Fashionable 
 people are the exact opposite. I have a contempt for fashionables, 
 but I like to converse with the descendants of historical peerages, 
 and to talk to them or joke them about their ancestors. 
 
 To a Friend — Even-handed yustice. 
 
 November 22, 1866, 
 
 ... I am sorry you put in print that article about curates. In 
 a letter it was a fair piece of wit, and I laughed at it heartily and 
 made others laugh. But it is wrong to turn serious matters into 
 ridicule. Nobody wants you Freethinkers to go to church, but if 
 you do go, you should recollect that churches are not built, like 
 lecture-rooms, to afford you intellectual amusement. Preaching or 
 prophesying is an ordinance of the Church and a means of grace, 
 and however humble the instrument may be, the good is done by 
 the Spirit of God, and if we are humble-minded, we may find in 
 the dullest sermon some one sentence which may be applicable to 
 our own case. 
 
 When we go to church it should be not to sit in judgment upon 
 the: preacher, but to sit in judgment upon our owfi hearts ; and you 
 are very different from me, if, when you place yourself as the party 
 accused, you are not self-condemned. 
 
 Again, you Freethinkers are queer in your intolerance. I do 
 not like all the practices which Woodard adopts, but that man has 
 raised a hundred thousand pounds — many thousands contributed 
 by himself — for the purposes of education — for, with an income of 
 thousands, he lives himself like a curate, his private expenses 
 chiefly consisting in a liberal allowance to his son, a soldier. 
 Instead of praising him for his meritorious exertions, you attack 
 him for the ceremonial, which, whether right or wrong (/ think 
 wrong), he thinks necessary for keeping women in order. He did 
 not use a crosier, nor would the Bishop have permitted it. If any- 
 one had a right to complain, the complaint should have originated 
 with me. From time immemorial the Dean of Chichester has had 
 a proceseional cross carried before him, and I believe that I am the 
 only dean of the old foundation who has retained the cross.
 
 -i867 Letters, 1 859-1 867. 549 
 
 Archsologists have contended, I believe, that we have not the old 
 processional cross, or that we have Protestantised it. I am in- 
 formed, for I was not present, that Woodard presented to the lady 
 superior, or whatever she is called, a cross in the right form. 
 Lady Caroline spent her fortune upon this school, and Woodard 
 contributed three times as much as was given by her. I think that 
 Liberals, while condemning the excesses, should certainly make 
 allowance for that admixture of human weakness and folly which 
 is discernible in every human act and virtue. 
 
 He spoke in the debate on Ritual in Convocation in 1S67 
 at the urgent request of Archbishop Longley, as mentioned in 
 the foregoing letter, but much against his will. He could not 
 get up any interest in petty questions of Ritual : he thought 
 the extreme Ritualists an insignificant set, and had great objec- 
 tions at all times to repressive legislation. 
 
 The health of Mrs. Hook, undermined by the strain of her 
 laborious, anxious life at Leeds, had long been failing. The 
 first of a series of fits which were the evidences and effects of a 
 mortal disease occurred on March 12, 1867. 
 
 The collapse in her health was the beginning of a break in 
 the health of her husband. He was never quite the same man 
 again. 
 
 In July of that year he writes : 
 
 I am an old man, nearly seventy, and I have received a shock 
 from which I shall never recover. I am so weak that I am ready 
 almost at any time to weep, and can scarcely refrain sometimes 
 when preaching. I am getting into my second childhood. 
 
 That 1 2th of March ! I can never forget it. For my wife my 
 tenderness has increased : that branch of love, not the love itself. 
 I feel that she is as dear to me as ever : but I never thought so 
 tenderly of her before. She is not tJic wife who lived before that 
 shock. She has become, if possible, more lovable, but instead of 
 being the shepherdess, she has become as one of the lambs. It 
 used to be for her to think of us all. Now our whole mind and 
 heart must be devoted to her service. But when I think of this 
 change I am overcome. I do not want faith. I can appropriate, 
 to my own case, all that I have said to others, but my shaken 
 frame becomes tender. Things constantly occur on which the first
 
 550 Life of Walter Farqnhai' Hook. 1859- 
 
 impulse is to say, ' Take it to your mother : she will explain it.' 
 Alas ! then comes the feeling, ' this we must not let her do,' and 
 then the other feeling, how far should we conceal from her any- 
 thing that may annoy her, and then the agony that things are not 
 as they were, and then the deep, overflowing gratitude that we 
 have so many blessings left, and then the feeling that we shall soon 
 say ' It is finished.' 
 
 In the autumn of this year Mrs. Hook spent some tmie at 
 Aberystwith with her youngest daughter, ^vho for the next two 
 years was her indefatigable and skilful nurse. Tlie Dean visited 
 them as he was able, and the following letter was written from 
 that place. 
 
 Obedience to Bisliops. 
 
 Queen's Hotel, Aberystwith : August 1867. 
 
 My dear Lady ... I read your husband's letters to the 
 
 Bishop with much interest ; in tone and in control of a tried 
 temper, they appeared to me to be admirable; they were what 
 everyone who knows your husband would expect ; the letters of a 
 Christian gentleman. 
 
 I think it veiy far from right to push things to an extreme, and 
 while violating the spirit of the law, to contend that the letter of it 
 has been obscured, and that, therefore, no action can be brought, 
 against either an infidel or a papist, labouring each in his vocation 
 among our people. And others of that stamp look upon the 
 Church in the light of an establishment, and then they contend that 
 they adhere to the letter of the establishment, and so have a right 
 to the higher positions in the Church. This is wrong, but surely it 
 is the very same thing in the opposite extreme, which our Ritualists 
 are doing. As Colenso and Co. sail as near as possible to infidelity, 
 so the Ritualists sail as near to Rome as their party can ; and 
 each finds a pleasure through the quirks of the law in defying the 
 authorities. 
 
 When things are really indifterent, if 1 were a parochial clergy- 
 man (which alas ! I no longer am), I should make a point of 
 yielding to the wishes of my Diocesan, unless he issued a command. 
 
 I think that your husband and Mr. have made this distinction 
 
 wisely and well, between a wish to be attended to, and an illegal 
 comiiia7id, on account of its illegality to be resisted. Here is in the 
 hypothesis an open question — You issue a command. Because
 
 -i867 Letter's, 1859-1867. 551 
 
 you have no right to command I refuse obedience \ or, here is an 
 open question, e.g., preaching in surphce or gown. You wish for 
 uniformity in your diocese, and as the majority use the gown, you 
 wish that I would do as others are doing, and to your wish I defer : 
 or, here is a question on which a doubt has been raised, e.g., the 
 lighting of candles, or standing in front of the altar : in a doubtful 
 matter I abide by your judgment. I would here observe that 1 
 hold that none but the clergy of the parish should preach in the 
 surplice ; strangers should wear their academical dress : this was 
 the rule before the Reformation. Also, when we talk of doubts 
 being raised, we find some wrong-headed persons saying : ' / have 
 no doubt upon the subject, and therefore I shall not apply to the 
 Bishop ; ' but the question is, not whether A, B, or C, may have a 
 doubt or not, but the question is, whether the public have a doubt 
 as to what the law is ; then I think every bishop is authorised to 
 lay down the law for his own diocese, and the other clergy are 
 bound to act according to his decision. 
 
 To E. A. FrccnhDi^ Esq. 
 
 September 24, 1867. 
 
 . . . You write down to your work, and therefore you must 
 write well. In the life of Lanfranc and the Norman Archbishops, I 
 had to write tip to my work, and I only wish that at threescore 
 years and ten I might hope to recompose that portion of my work 
 with my present increased information. In my life of Cranmer, 
 on the contrary, and in all that remains of my work, I write down 
 to my work, and I shall be exceedingly angry if you do not refer to 
 me as an authority on what relates to this period. I have not been 
 obliged to search for my facts. I was so well acquainted with all 
 the histor}' of the Reformation, home and foreign, that I sat down 
 to write Cranmer's life with all the ease and confidence w-ith which 
 I write a letter. Five and twenty years ago, indeed, I wrote a life 
 of Cranmer, and I have ever since been filling my commonplace 
 Ijook with thoughts and facts of the modern period of English 
 History. It is nearly twice that distance of time (in the year 1821) 
 that I began my theological studies, reading first the original 
 historians in the primitive Church, and then occupying myself for 
 seven years in Patristic studies : on those studies I had to fall 
 back, during my active life as a Pastor and a Preacher. From 
 those studies (having given only a year to the intervening period) I 
 set to work on the Reformation.
 
 552 Life of Walter Farqtthar Hook 1859- 
 
 It is rather provoking, as Buckle once said to me, to think that 
 some ignoramus will get up after twenty-four hours' reading to 
 criticise what is the result of twenty-four /^crr^ study and thought. 
 And this, while I get justice from you and a few others, will be the 
 case with me, and with you too. We cannot help it, while criti- 
 cism is permitted to be anonymous. I particularly like your sys- 
 tem of avowing all your articles, speaking your mind and not 
 being ashamed of it. Men may disagree with you, but they can- 
 not say that you are not brave and honest. The difference between 
 the man who writes up to his subject, and the man who writes 
 dow7i to his subject, is in my opinion simply this, that in one case 
 the conjectures are valuable, and in the other they may be, or may 
 not be. Perhaps as to his facts, the man who writes up to his 
 work is more to be depended upon, for he dares not conjecture 
 anything, but he loses the vis^ the confidence, the boldness to criti- 
 cise his authorities. 
 
 To E. A. Freeman^ Esq. 
 
 1867. 
 Our communer asserts that the expenses of the Cathedral have 
 been trebled since your humble servant was Dean — an assertion 
 which I consider an honour, and therefore at our chapter dinner 
 when we are supposed to be quite by ourselves, I proposed ' three 
 groans ' for the Dean. This was rapturously accepted, when we 
 heard a giggle. Our two vergers had not left the room, but were 
 behind a screen. We made them join in the toast and swear 
 silence. 
 
 In November 1867 the Cathedral was reopened.^ The 
 event was celebrated by an octave of special services, which 
 were attended by a great concourse of people from all parts of 
 the country. Sermons were preached by the Bishop of Oxford, 
 the Bishop of Illinois, the Bishop of Worcester, the Bishop of 
 St. Andrews, and others, so that on this occasion, as at the 
 opening of the Parish Church at Leeds in 1841, a visible proof 
 was presented of the practical harmony of different branches of 
 the Reformed Catholic Church. The music under the skilful 
 direction of the Rev. Walter Hook, at that time succentor, and 
 
 1 For a fuller account of the fall and restoration of the Cathedral spire, see 
 my Meinorials of the South Saxon See and Cathedral Church of Chichester. 
 (Bentley, 1876.)
 
 -1 86; Reopening of Cathedral. 553 
 
 the very able organist, Mr. E. H. Thorne, was as near perfec- 
 tion as could be desired. But although the completion of this 
 arduous work of reconstruction was a great relief to the mind 
 of the Dean, he was heavy at heart, owing to the state of his 
 wife's health, who was absent from Chichester, being unable to 
 encounter the fatigue and excitement of the event. He mourn- 
 fully owns in letters to intimate friends that he felt none of 
 that enthusiasm with which, in his earlier and happier days, his 
 whole being would have glowed at the successful accomplish- 
 ment of so creat an undertaking
 
 554 i-if^ of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1868- 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE LAST DAYS AT CHICHESTER, 1868-1875 — ANECDOTES — 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 The long and laborious life which has been traced in these 
 pages is now drawing to an end. The last seven years were 
 marked by a gradual declension in bodily strength and mental 
 vigour. But although the ebb had begun, it was the ebb of a 
 mighty tide, and now and then it rolled up, so to say, a power- 
 ful wave which reached almost as far as the high-water mark of 
 past days. Three volumes of history were brought out between 
 1867 and 187 1. They contained the lives of Warham, Cran- 
 mer, and Pole, which are among the very best in the whole 
 series, besides an introductory chapter on the Reformation, 
 full of weighty matter, and written in his freshest and most 
 vigorous style. Two main causes may be assigned for the 
 excellence of his literary work at so late a period of his life. 
 One was that he had now got upon historical ground where he 
 felt thoroughly at home. The sixteenth century was an era in 
 the history of our Church which he had studied from his youth ; 
 he was familiar wTth all the great events and the great charac- 
 ters of that memorable period. He had now only to fill up 
 gaps in his knowledge by consulting sources of information 
 which were either not known, or not accessible, in his earlier 
 days, and to correct his estimates or impressions by the aid of 
 these researches. 
 
 In the next place, partly owing to the precarious state of his 
 wife's health, and partly to his own increasing age and feeble- 
 ness, he was less inclined to leave home for preaching, lecturing,.
 
 The Irish Church. 555 
 
 or any other purpose, and consequently all his remaining strength 
 was more concentrated upon his historical task. Moreover, 
 after each repetition of the fits which marked the progress of 
 his wife's illness, and left her weakened in body and mind, his 
 spirits sank to a very low depth, and his family and friends 
 always urged him to resume, as soon as possible, his literary 
 work, believing it to be the most effectual and salutary diversion 
 for his thoughts. 
 
 The great political events of the years 1868 and 1869 — the 
 accession of the Liberals to power, and the disestablishment 
 and disendowment of the Irish Church — engaged a particularly 
 large amount of his interest, owing to his personal regard for 
 Mr. Gladstone and his love for his old friend, William Page 
 ^^'ood, who was now made Lord Chancellor. 
 
 The question indeed of the Lish Church was one to which 
 he had given some attention twenty years before. In 1848 his 
 friend, then Mr. Wood, M.P. for Oxford, had spoken and voted 
 in favour of a measure for the disestablishment of the Irish 
 Church, and I have found amongst Dr. Hook's papers some 
 fragments of a letter written upon the subject to Mr. Wood, 
 with a view to publication — an intention which was not carried 
 into effect. Probably he was persuaded to withhold it from 
 publication on account of the very cutting remarks at the con- 
 clusion upon the conduct of the Whig Party towards the Church,, 
 and upon Lord John Russell, who was then Prime Minister. 
 
 The arguments of this very remarkable letter may be briefly 
 summed up under the following heads : — 
 
 1. The real burden upon the popukuion of Ireland is not the 
 Protestant, but the Roman Catholic Church. The support of the 
 Protestant clergy does not, generally speaking, fall upon the poor,, 
 but upon the landed proprietors. The Roman Catholic clergy, on 
 the contrary, are mainly dependent upon the very heavy dues and 
 offerings which are most rigorously exacted from an impoverished 
 people. 
 
 2. If, then, \vc would really assist the people of Ireland, it must 
 be by relieving tliem from this oppressive tax : in other words, by 
 endowing the Roman Catliolic Church.
 
 556 Life of Walter Far'qtihar Hook. 1868- 
 
 3. It would be afifectation and prudery in a nation which has 
 supported heathen idolatry in India, to be very nice or scrupulous 
 about endowing the Romish Church in Ireland. 
 
 4. It would have been a blessed thing if, at the time of the 
 Union, the Roman Catholic Church in Ireland had been established. 
 ' Presbyterianism was established in Scotland, and our Church was 
 overthrown in 1688, because to the great body of the Scottish 
 people Presbyterianism was endeared, as Romanism is to the 
 people of Ireland. I do not see then how or why we should object 
 to the establishment of the Roman Catholic Church in Ireland, or 
 why we should deal out one measure to the Scotch, and another to 
 the Irish.' 
 
 5. But owing to the violence of Protestant feeling, this measure 
 of justice would have been impracticable then ; and probably it is 
 for the same reason impracticable still. Even the Presbyterians 
 of Scotland would probably resist the attempt to give to Ireland the 
 boon which they themselves possess, of having that form of religion 
 established to which they are attached. 
 
 6. Granting therefore that we cannot at present establish the 
 Roman Church in Ireland, can we not endow it ? 
 
 7. Yes, out of the revenues of the Protestant Church, which are 
 largely in excess of its requirements. 
 
 8. But is not the property of the Church sacred : must it not 
 be preserved intact for those places and purposes for which it was 
 originally given ? 
 
 9. This principle can no longer be maintained. By the estab- 
 lishment of the Ecclesiastical Commission, our rulers have declared 
 that it is lawful to take from a parish or diocese which is too highly 
 endowed, and to bestow the surplus on another diocese or parish. 
 If the commissioners have a right to deal with the property of the 
 Church, without reference to the intention of those who left it, for 
 what they consider the good of the Church, why should not the 
 property of the Church be dealt with in like manner for the good of 
 the country at large ? 
 
 10. Let then the whole property of the Protestant Church in 
 Ireland be placed in the hands of commissioners, to be divided on 
 equitable principles amongst the Roman Catholic and Protestant 
 Clergy. Grants also must be made to the ministers of all denomi- 
 nations, on certain conditions, otherwise they will have a grievance. 
 But— 
 
 11. If the Church in Ireland is deprived of part of her property,
 
 -i87S The Irish Chtirch. 557 
 
 she ought to have more Hberty, as a compensation for the sacrifice, 
 otherwise she will be placed at a positive disadvantage as compared 
 ■with her Roman Catholic rival. She should be permitted under 
 proper limitations to elect her own bishops, and to regulate her own 
 affairs in canonical synods, to which the laity should be admitted 
 as an auxiliary element. Grant this, and the bargain is a fair one. 
 The Church receives a ' quid pro quo.' You take our property, 
 and restore us our liberty ; and those who look to the spiritual 
 welfare of the Church rather than to its property would be 
 gainers. 
 
 12. This, howe\er, is precisely what the Whigs will not grant. 
 They forget their principles of liberality when the Church is con- 
 cerned. They would force upon us, if they could, such alterations 
 in our liturgy and doctrine as would drive loyal Churchmen out of 
 the Church. They are prepared to make all kinds of concessions 
 to conciliate the Roman Catholics, but they will never loosen the 
 fetters of the Protestant Church. They think they have us beneath 
 their feet, and though they rifle our pockets, they will keep us in 
 subjection. There is therefore no hope of obtaining a measure which 
 will deal justice to the tvliolc people of Ireland, while the Whig party 
 is in power. 
 
 It will easily be inferred, from this summary of his views in 
 1848, how he regarded the proposals of Mr. Gladstone in 1868 
 for dealing with the Irish Church. On the one hand he 
 thoroughly concurred in the justice and expediency of dis- 
 establishing it. Whatever the cause might be, an Established 
 Church which had failed, after three centuries, to become the 
 Church of more than one seventh of the whole people, could 
 not, he conceived, have any right to be maintained as the 
 Established Church. On the other hand, he regretted that no 
 other Church was to be established in its place. As patriots, 
 churchmen could cordially uphold the Presbyterian Establish- 
 ment in Scotland, and as patriots, English Jews could support 
 the Church in England. As a patriot, therefore, he would have 
 welcomed the establishment of the Roman Catholic Church in 
 Ireland, because it was indisputably the Church of the people 
 in that part of the kingdom. 
 
 In like manner, while fully conceding the right of the state
 
 558 Life of Walter Fargtihar Hook. 1868- 
 
 to take the property of the Cliurch for the benefit of the people, 
 he thought that this end would have been more effectually and 
 more equitably promoted, had the revenues been divided 
 amongst the several religious bodies of the country, instead of 
 being diverted to charitable and educational purposes. 
 
 Some of these views were brought forward in a sermon 
 preached in Westminster Abbey on July 25, 1868, at the con- 
 secration of Dr. Atlay as Bishop of Hereford. But above all 
 things he deprecated, alike in this sermon and on every possible 
 occasion, both in public and private, the faint-hearted cry that 
 the Church of England was in danger, and that she would soon 
 be treated as her neighbour in Ireland was to be dealt with. 
 In the first place he was wont to point out that such an appre- 
 hension was based on ignorance or forgetfulness of the vast dif- 
 ference in the position of the two churches relative to the people. 
 In Ireland, an insignificant minority only were attached to the 
 Protestant Church, of which the endowments were preposter- 
 ously large compared with the work it had to do. In England, 
 not only did the Church comprise more than half the population, 
 but also there was no other religious body which could in num- 
 bers or efficiency, standing alone, pretend to compete with it ; 
 whilst its endowments were but an insufficient equipment for 
 the vast labour it had to undertake. 
 
 But secondly he maintained that such querulous alarms 
 indicated alike a want of patriotism and a want of faith. If it 
 should be the will of the majority, in a free nation, to withdraw 
 from the Anglo- Catholic Church in Ireland, or elsewhere, the 
 honours and the emoluments of an establishment, the patriot 
 and the Christian would submit without feeble complaint, or 
 pusillanimous fear. The persons, indeed, who thought scorn 
 of our ancestors, because they preached the doctrine of passive 
 obedience when the chief power was vested in the Sovereign, 
 were the very persons who in a democratic age urged the mi- 
 nority to yield patiently to the will of the majority. But the 
 Christian principle was the same in both cases. Be prepared 
 to make large sacrifices ; die rather than give up a principle : but 
 if the things at stake be only wealth, rank, and station, yield all
 
 -i87s Political Principles. 559 
 
 freely, rather than provoke by resistance those disturbances 
 which call into action the worst passions of mankind. 
 
 Our Bishops (said he, in his sermon at the Consecration of Dr. 
 Atlay) may be expelled from Parliament, and our other clergy may 
 still be branded as the only persons in this realm of England whom 
 a free people are not permitted to elect as their representatives in 
 the House of Commons ; but of that commission which our chief 
 pastors received when He, before whom Kings and Democrats 
 win one day tremble, breathed upon them and constituted them 
 His ambassadors — not the ministers of men, but the servants of 
 <Iod — they can never be deprived. 
 
 Men cannot deprive us of that history which connects the 
 Church of the nineteenth century with the Church of the first. 
 They may deprive us of the advantages of an Establishment such 
 as we have admitted them to be ; but here the Anglo-Catholic 
 Church remains, and will remain, prepared, it may be, to do a 
 greater work under oppression and difficulty than it ever attempted 
 under the corrupting influence of worldly property. 
 
 The disestablishment of the Irish Church was almost the 
 last great public question in which he took anything like a keen 
 interest. The views which he held respecting it, in 1848 and 
 1868, proved how thoroughly, and for how long a time, his 
 mind had shaken off the narrow prejudices of the old Tory 
 school in which he had been brought up ; how calmly and dis- 
 passionately he could form a broad, statesmanlike judgment 
 upon matters of national importance. Nor did he now scruple 
 to avow that in many respects he was, and long had been, in 
 principle on the side of the Liberals. Writing to the Bishop 
 of Oxford in November 1868, he says : 
 
 I can sympathise with (Gladstone belter than you can. I, like 
 him, was for my misfortune born and bred a Tor}\ When I 
 devoted myself to the manufacturing districts, my sympathies being 
 easily excited, I became heart and soul a Radical. But I have 
 been timid in declaring myself, not liking to offend old friends. 
 Had I been a public character, I should have come to his standing 
 point, though by a different road from that pursued by him. I 
 should have swum down the stream from Toryism to Radicalism
 
 560 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1868- 
 
 in a style easily understood by a good fat swimmer, who seems 
 scarcely to disturb the water. They might have pelted me from 
 the shore, but I would have swum calmly on, and I should have 
 shown how my principles of philanthropy were not changed, but 
 developed. 
 
 Very little need be added, respecting the last seven years of 
 his life, to the letters which are placed at the end of this chap- 
 ter. As his wife's health slowly, but surely, declined, so did his 
 own strength and spirits ebb. To what a depth of dejection he 
 sunk at times may be understood from the following letter, 
 written in December, 1868, to his old friend, now Lord Hath- 
 erley, shortly after one of his wife's severe attacks of illness. 
 
 ... I am deeply depressed. My old joyousness has forsaken 
 me. I long continued as lively as a boy, but my wife's illness has 
 crushed me to the earth. I take a gloomy view of things. I live 
 again in my darling boys ; indeed, for them only I live. I wish I 
 could do more for them. My life has been a failure. I have done 
 many things tolerably ; but nothing well. As a Parish Priest, as a 
 Preacher, and now as a Writer I am quite aware that I have failed, 
 and the more so because my friends contradict the assertion. I 
 am quite the old man, and wish for peace and quiet at the end : 
 but I cannot help feeling what a fool I am, and what foolish things 
 1 have done. I suspect that I am like Joseph Wolff, eccen- 
 tric. . . . 
 
 In the autumn of 1868, he had revisited Leeds, and once 
 more in the autumn of 1869 he went amongst his old friends in 
 the North and in the Midland counties, including Birmingham 
 and Coventry. But although his spirits rallied at the time, and 
 in preaching and lecturing on such occasions the force of old 
 associations and the sight of old faces revived in him some of 
 his ancient energy and fire, yet the recoil was great, after the 
 excitement was over, and the fatigue was more than his bodily 
 strength could well bear. Writing in December 1869, after 
 his return home, he says, * Here I am in my nest again, and I 
 have now bidden farewell to dear Birmingham, to dearer 
 Coventry, to dearest Leeds.'
 
 - 1 8; 5 Deanery of Rochester offered. 561 
 
 There was now at the head of the Government one who 
 appreciated the Dean's character and rated his past services to 
 tlie Church at their true value. For such services Mr. Glad- 
 stone considered that one of the smallest and poorest deaneries 
 in the kingdom was but a scanty and unworthy remuneration. 
 He was anxious to redress the wrong, and he resolved to pay 
 him the honour at least of offering him such preferment as he 
 deserved, and such as a few years before he would have thank- 
 fully accepted. Mr. Gladstone was aware that all offers were 
 jjrobably now too late ; and the following letter, written to him 
 by the Dean in February, 1870, showed that to ask his accept- 
 ance of a bishopric would be a vain and empty compliment. 
 
 ... I have never — at least not shice I was forty years of age — 
 been desirous of preferment, and if I had not had a large family, 
 my delight would have been to serve the Church for nothing. If 
 anyone had offered me a bishopric, which from my position as 
 \'icar of Leeds might have been possible, I believe that I am per- 
 fectly sincere in saying I should have refused it, simply because I 
 am fully convinced that mine is not the character fitted for a place 
 in which caution is more required than impetuosity. 
 
 I was in my place at Leeds, and I only left it when I had 
 reached the age of sixty-one, because my medical friends informed 
 me that it was necessary both for myself and my wife, whose 
 labours were greater than mine, to relax. ... I will not deny that 
 I should have liked the offer of preferment, but it was only to in- 
 dulge the feelings of a naughty pride. I should have been proud 
 to refuse it, and pride, under every aspect, is wrong. 
 
 l]ut although a bishfjpric was out of the question, and 
 indeed it would have been unseemly to offer such an arduous 
 office to a man worn with hard work, and past the age of three- 
 score years and ten, yet there was no unseemliness in offering a 
 deanery of higher value and greater importance than Chichester, 
 and it was within the bounds of possibility that it would be 
 accepted. 
 
 Accordingly in the sjjring of 1870, the iX'anery of Rochester 
 was offered, but declined. Then in January, 187 1, came the 
 offer of Canterbury. This was indeed a temptation. 'J'o be 
 
 00
 
 562 Life of Wa Iter Fa rqtiha r Hook. 1 868- 
 
 Dean of the Metropolitan Cathedral Church, to live hard by 
 the tombs of the Archbishops whose history he was writing, and 
 the library, so full of materials for his literary work — this was a 
 position which a few years earlier it would have afforded him 
 the most inexpressible gratification to occupy. The ample 
 emoluments, too, of the ofifice would have secured for him such 
 pecuniary ease as he never had enjoyed. 
 
 For a day he wavered in his decision ; but just at this crisis 
 his wife was visited by another distressing attack, and that com- 
 pletely turned the scale. ' It would be madness,' he writes, 
 ' to go : it would kill her. We have worked together for forty- 
 two years, and we will go out together.' 
 
 Moreover, when he seriously considered the situation in all 
 its bearings, he felt that he was no longer equal to discharging 
 the duties in which it would have involved him. 
 
 The following letter therefore was written on January 16, to 
 Mr. Gladstone. 
 
 . . . Canterbuiy is not ;i place to which an old man may retire. 
 It is a situation which demands the energies of a younger and 
 more vigorous mind. I think also that it is hardly fair for an old 
 man to stand in the way of the succeeding generation. And I am 
 c|uite sure that when a man is in his seventy-fourth year, it is to 
 preferment in another country', that is an heavenly, that he ought, 
 in deep humility and in entire reliance upon his Saviours mercy, to 
 look. Besides this, the removal would interfere by a consumption 
 of time with my literary labours. It would have been an advantage 
 to be near the library at Canterbury', but this would not compensate 
 for the loss of time, or rather its consumption in other occupations. 
 Aly wife, too, is a great invalid, and it would never do to involve 
 her in the fatigue of moving, and of forming new acquaintances. 
 She has for forty-two years shared all my labours. . . . 
 
 As I have said before, I feel the honour as well as the kindness 
 of your patronage. I can only raise in return what Gray so 
 beautifully describes as ' the small voice of gratitude.' 
 
 I shall be satisfied if you will believe me to be, affectionately 
 and gratefully, Yours. 
 
 A few months only after this letter was written the blow fell 
 upon him which had so long been impending. On May 5,
 
 -1 87 5 Death of Mrs. Hook. 563 
 
 1 87 1, his wife was taken from him. She was only fifty-nine, 
 and in the natural order of things would have survived him, but 
 the long strain of anxiety and work had prematurely worn out 
 her constitution, less robust than his. 
 
 It was a bright warm day, and the sweet spring air, and tlie 
 cheerful song of birds came in through the open windows of the 
 room, where her family watched her failing breath, while her 
 husband, with an extraordinary effort of self-command, read the 
 commendatory prayer and pronounced the blessing. On the 
 nth, he followed her remains to the churchyard of the little 
 village of Mid Lavant, two miles from Chichester, of which the 
 writer of these pages was then Vicar. The breezy slope de- 
 scending to a quiet valley, and facing the soft smooth swelling 
 downs, seemed a fitting spot for the last resting place of one 
 whose strength had been spent in crowded noisy towns : while 
 the fresh green of the hills and woods, on that sunny spring 
 morning, were in perfect keeping with the words of Christian 
 hope and love, which were said and sung beside the grave. 
 
 A marked decadence in the Dean's strength dates from this 
 event. His youngest son, who was the only unmarried member 
 of the family, had for the past year lived at the Deanery, and 
 ministered with a filial love utterly regardless of self to the com- 
 fort of his parents, and he now remained to be the companion 
 and guardian of the survivor. About a year afterwards, this 
 son's marriage brought to the home of the aged Dean another 
 inmate, who was as a ray of sunlight in the house, and the son 
 and daughter-in-law took care of him, with a tenderness and a 
 skill which could not be surpassed. 
 
 But the regulating influence, which had been for more than 
 forty years the ballast, so to say, of his life, was gone : and those 
 who knew him most intimately could j)erceive that, from this 
 moment, he was an altered man, not only in health, but also to 
 some degree in character. No one was more aware of this 
 alteration than himself On June 21, he writes : — 
 
 I do not get the better of my grief. I am cheerful enougli in 
 society : my sympathies being easily aroused ; but wlien I retire to
 
 564 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 1868- 
 
 iny study, the happy past will come before me, and tears will flow 
 as I think that all is gone. 
 
 I am all right as to faith. When I take up her book of ' Daily 
 Meditations,' and raise my mind to heavenly thoughts, the ' not 
 lost but gone before ' is full of blessed consolation. But I have 
 lost my counsellor, my guide, the dear one who was always ready 
 to soothe me in my troubles, to rouse me from my depression, and 
 to urge me on to work : and sad is the blank which cannot be 
 filled. 
 
 Nevertheless, in the course of the summer his son succeeded 
 in persuading him to resume his literary work, and to complete 
 the life of Archbishop Parker, which had long been laid aside. 
 The volume appeared in the spring of 1872, and is one of the 
 most valuable in the series. The character and position of 
 Parker, and of the Church of England, at that critical epoch, 
 are grasped with a force which bespeaks the veteran travelling 
 over ground with which he is thoroughly familiar. On the other 
 hand, the infirmity of age is betrayed in a tendency to repetition 
 and prolixity, and occasional faultiness in the structure of his 
 sentences. The revision of his manuscript for the press, and 
 the correction of proof-sheets, was a labour for which he had 
 always a great aversion and little aptitude, and but for the pains- 
 taking diligence of his son and other friends, it would at this 
 time never have been got through at all. 
 
 The same tendency to prolixity now became visible in his 
 sermons. His voice retained all its sweetness, but lost much of 
 its volume, and though at times, even within a few months of 
 his death, he could preach with something like his old vigour, 
 the Cathedral was no longer thronged with the crowds which 
 came to listen to him in earlier days. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Gladstone, thinking that by the death of 
 Mrs, Hook the chief obstacle to the Dean's leaving Chichester 
 was removed, offered him the Deanery of St. Paul's, in the 
 summer of 1871, and of Winchester in the Autumn of 1872. 
 But it was far too late. In declining St. Paul's he writes : ' I 
 am, indeed, most gratified and most grateful. . . . Ten years 
 ago, oh ! how I should have liked to fight the good fight of fiiith
 
 -i875 Reproves Bishop Wilberfo7%e. 565 
 
 among the citizens of London . . .' And of Winchester, in 
 like manner, he writes to Dr. Wilberforce, who had now become 
 bishop of that See : ' Ten years ago there would have been no 
 situation I should have liked so much to occupy, and as I have 
 told Mr. Gladstone, it would give me pleasure to act as first 
 lieutenant in a ship commanded by your lordship. But in my 
 seventy-fifth year, it would be absurd to move, and it would be 
 wicked to keep out from the post some younger and more able 
 man. ' 
 
 This letter shows that the Dean had forgiven, though he 
 never forgot, the grave error of the Bishop, as he conceived it, 
 in having in the autumn of 187 1, officiated in a Presbyterian 
 Kirk in Scotland, using extempore prayers instead of adhering 
 strictly to the prescribed forms of the Church. The indignation 
 of the old mastiff, as he sometimes called himself, the watch-dog 
 of the Church of England, was thoroughly roused by this trans- 
 action. He WTote a fierce letter of reproof to the Bishop, signed, 
 'Yours faithfully.' The Bishop of course defended himself 
 adroitly and manfully. 'As to using the Kirk, I no more 
 encouraged Presbyterianism in that, than, if I had preached the 
 gospel in a cowhouse, I should have encouraged vaccination. 
 No Presbyterian minister was present. You say I ought to have 
 said our whole office ; why ? I showed my colours, began Avith 
 our confession, got no responses and saw it was maltreating our 
 service.' But the Dean was far from satisfied, as the following 
 letter will prove : — 
 
 Have you staled the whole case? When you have performed 
 Divine Service in churches or meeting-houses of any kind on the 
 Continent, did you not use the Service of the Church of England ? 
 The offence given in the present case to a few old men, whose 
 prejudices may not be worth consideration, is this : — that you did 
 not in this instance conform to the Church in Scotland : the only 
 Church there, if we believe the Articles of the Creed. This is 
 expressly stated. Your extempore prayer has been the subject of 
 admiration and praise on the part of Presbyterians. If you used 
 the Prayer Book, to which on such an occasion llie strictest atten- 
 tion was peculiarly ir/iportant, ' cadit quiestio ; ' if not, please to
 
 566 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1868- 
 
 bear in mind that our annoyance is occasioned not by your using 
 
 the Kirk, but by your o>uiiii/igio use the Prayer Book. 
 
 During the last four years of his life we met almost daily, 
 and as we slowly paced up and down his own lawn or mine, 
 the conversation most commonly turned upon the events, the 
 characters, and the controversies of his old Coventry and Leeds 
 days : occasionally of earlier times. These were the subjects 
 of which he most delighted to talk, and I to hear. Most of his 
 sayings and stories about himself, which have been woven into 
 the foregoing narrative, together with some others which are 
 placed at the close of this chapter, were told to me during these 
 quiet strolls. 
 
 His walking power, however, failed very much during the 
 years 1873 and 1874, and he had two heavy falls, once when 
 walking with his friend Lord Hatherley in the meadows south of 
 the city, and once in the Cathedral. He became dropsical; 
 and at times a total and fatal collapse seemed imminent. But 
 towards the close of 1874 he rallied. The tenth volume of his 
 history containing the lives of Grindal, Whitgift, Bancroft, and 
 Abbot, was completed and brought out early in 1875. It is the 
 first in which a very palpable falling off is visible throughout in 
 general style of execution. The wonder is that, having been 
 written piecemeal, in the intervals of bad health, it was not 
 more disjointed and incomplete. During the spring and early 
 summer of 1875 ^^^'^ health and spirits seemed to be improving. 
 He was in a serene and happy frame of mind. He preached 
 regularly on Sunday afternoons in the Cathedral : occasionally 
 with some of his old force. He worked with some interest at 
 his ' Lives of Laud and Juxon,' and the manuscript for volume 
 xi. was sent to press. 
 
 He had brought down his history to the close of what may 
 be called the Reformation period : and at this natural resting- 
 place it pleased God that his hand should stop. Thus was he 
 felix opportmiitate mortis. The illness which became mortal 
 was creeping over him from the beginning of October. His 
 spirits sank and he became unusually silent. He was wont to
 
 -1 87 5 Death. 567 
 
 say that he did not fear death, but that he dreaded dying. The 
 physical part of it was full of horror to him. He never could 
 bear the sight of a corpse ; and the recollection of seeing that 
 of his infant boy at Coventry made an impression upon him 
 which he could not forget. He used to shudder when speaking 
 of it, and generally referred to it when mentioning his horror of 
 dying. But of death itself he had no fear, though his thoughts 
 concerning the future were always coloured with a deep humilit)'. 
 He said to his son a great many times as the illness gained 
 ground, ' I cannot pray much, but I can trust implicitly in my 
 Saviour : ' and again, when the disease slightly affected his head 
 and he was unable to make any exertion of brain, he said, ' I 
 cannot address God in prayer, but my thoughts are full of 
 prayer.' 
 
 Nearly always, when his private prayers were being read 
 aloud for him by his son, he himself put in the names of those 
 for whom he desired specially to intercede. After he had 
 <'eased to take any audible part in the prayers, about two days 
 before he died, they were read as usual by his bedside ; but as 
 it was thought that he was unconscious, all who were at home 
 came into the room. ' He had been accustomed,' writes his son, 
 'to give me his blessing after prayers till towards the end, when 
 he asked me to act more ministeriall)- towards him. But on 
 this evening he stopped me as I began, and spreading out his 
 hands he pronounced the benediction over us. It was a 
 moment of consciousness, and almost the last that he had. I'he 
 whole of the last fourteen hours he was unconscious, and one 
 may almost say that he passed away in sleep. So mercifully 
 did our Heavenly Father have respect to the only weakness of 
 the flesh that had given terror to the thought of death.' 
 
 Early on the morning of Wednesday, October 20, the tolling 
 of the Cathedral bell announced to the inhabitants of Chichester 
 that the Dean was no more. On the 27th his body was borne 
 into the Cathedral where the first part of the funeral service 
 was performed. The lesson was read by the Rev. H. B. W. 
 Churton, with a sweetness of ])athos which will not easily be 
 forgotten by those who heard it, and the rpiartett and chorus.
 
 568 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 1868- 
 
 ' Blessed are the Dead,' from Spohr's ' Last Judgment ' was most 
 beautifully sung by the choir. Thence the remains were con- 
 veyed to the little country churchyard where his wife's body had 
 been interred, and were laid to rest by her side. The Bishop of 
 Chichester and Dr. Atlay, Bishop of Hereford, who had been 
 the Dean's successor at Leeds, here took part in the service. 
 The prayer beginning, 'Thou knowest. Lord, the secrets of our 
 hearts,' was sung by the choir to Purcell's music, and the hymn, 
 * Jesus lives,' immediately after the blessing. 
 
 Although the life of the Dean in Qiichester had been mainly 
 devoted to literary work, yet he was not only deeply respected 
 by all the inhabitants of the city and neighbourhood, but also, 
 by a large number, deeply beloved. .Such was the warmth of 
 his human sympathy and such the captivating charm of his 
 manner, that many felt affection for him to whom he had spoken 
 but a few words in the whole course of his residence amongst 
 them. All the shops in Chichester were closed on the day of 
 his funeral, and delegates from the Odd Fellows and other 
 societies swelled the long train of mourners which followed the 
 body to the grave. 
 
 The clock and chimes which have been placed to his memory 
 in the massive old bell tower of the Cathedral will serve, we may 
 hope, for many generations to remind the citizens of one who 
 more than most men understood the value of time ; one who, 
 prodigious as his industry was, never thought that he had done 
 enough, and found the day only too short for all the work which 
 he strove to put into it. 
 
 In Leeds Parish Church an altar tomb of alabaster, on the 
 north side of the choir, supports a recumbent efifigy of him in 
 marble, which is a perfect triumph of artistic skill.' There he 
 lies with hands raised in prayer, in the midst of the church 
 which he built, and as if taking his rest in the heart of the great 
 town which he loved so well, and for the welfare of which he 
 so nobly toiled. A large church has been built at Leeds to his 
 memory : but in some senses Leeds itself is the most remark- 
 able and impressive monument of the man ; not only in its 
 
 ' The sculptor is Mr. Keyworth, Junr., of London and Hull.
 
 -iS75 Characteristics. 569 
 
 multiplied churches, vicarages, and schools, but in the spirit of 
 churchmanship infused into a large body of the people, and in 
 the dominant position secured for the Church throughout the 
 whole place. 
 
 ]\Ir. Newman, in his ' Lectures on Romanism and Popular 
 Protestantism,' published in 1837, wrote: 'There certainly is a 
 call upon us (Anglicans) to exhibit our principles in action, and 
 until we can produce a diocese or place of education, or 
 populous town, or colonial department, or the like, administered 
 on our distinctive principles, doubtless we have not so much to 
 urge on our behalf as we might have.' The passage would seem 
 to imply that some successful practical application of Anglican 
 principles should be regarded as a test of their claim upon our 
 allegiance. The career of Dr. Hook at Leeds supplied such a 
 test, nor can it be doubted that the work which he accomplished 
 has encouraged many to follow the path in which he took the 
 lead, and has helped largely to the spread of those sober High 
 Church principles which, amidst all the medley of conflicting 
 schools of thought in the present age, seem to be steadily gain- 
 ing ground amongst the English people. 
 
 I have reserved for this place a few notices of his personal 
 • haracteristics, physical and mental, and to them I have added 
 some anecdotes, and such fragments of his conversation as I 
 could recollect, which could not be conveniently wrought into 
 the body of the foregoing narrative. 
 
 In boyhood, youth, and early manhood he was spare and 
 bony : but though muscular and strong, he never was agile, and 
 was rather ungainly in his movements. His hair was red, and 
 as a boy at Winchester, he was commonly called ' red hackles 
 Hook ; ' but as time went on, this redness became fainter, and 
 in his old age his hair turned a silvery white. With advancing 
 years he grew stout, especially after he became a total abstainer. 
 The plainness of his features was, as the reader of his letters 
 will have observed, a subject upon which he often jested ; yet 
 this want of symmetry was forgotten in conversation with him, 
 being redeemed by the sweetness of the smile which lit up his 
 countenance, and by the melodious tones of his voice. There
 
 5/0 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1868- 
 
 was, moreover, a certain lion-like appearance about his whole 
 head and face which gave an impression of great strength, and 
 won the admiration of Mr. Richmond when he sat to him for 
 Iiis portrait. In his massive frame, and in some respects in his 
 features, especially in the low but bossy forehead, he resembled 
 Samuel Johnson ; and there were some other points of likeness 
 between them : such as occasional twitchings and contortions 
 of the face, fits of depression, a choleric temper, a constitutional 
 dread of dying, and an antipathy to foreigners. 
 
 Like most great men who have been able to make bodily 
 and mental exertions of an extraordinary kind, he possessed the 
 invaluable power of recruiting his energies by going to sleep at 
 any moment and in any place. On one occasion at Ixeds, after 
 a ver}' hard days work he came home exceedingly tired and 
 went to bed at six o'clock. About eight o'clock, a messenger 
 came from a country house about three miles distant to know 
 what had become of the Vicar, as he was engaged to dine there. 
 His youngest daughter went uj) to his room, waked him with 
 some difficulty, and asked what answer she was to give. ' Tell 
 the man,' he said, 'that I have gone to bed, and the deuce 
 won't get me out of it again before to-morrow morning.' 
 
 The great strength and compass of his voice was no doubt 
 largely owing to the astonishing depth and breadth of his chest. 
 An amusing instance of his chest power occurred when he was 
 staying at Eydon Rectory with his daughter, Mrs. Empson. It 
 was one of the very few occasions in his life on which he had a 
 really severe cold and was confined to his bed. Like many 
 persons who enjoy robust health as a rule, he was easily alarmed 
 by an attack of indisposition, and often fancied that his consti- 
 tution was breaking up. On this occasion he asked the doctor 
 in most plaintive tones whether he thought he was going into 
 a decline. 'Well, sir,' said the doctor, 'please to draw as long 
 a breath as you can,' which he did, and 'it seemed,' said the 
 doctor afterwards to his daughter, ' as if it never would end. I 
 almost think that I could have gone one half the way to 
 Banbury (ten miles distant) while he took his breath, and the 
 other half while he was giving it out.'
 
 -1 8; 5 J^is Soliioqiiics. 571 
 
 His voice, which was a full, rich tenor, penetrating, yet soft 
 and flexible, was doubtless a great aid to his influence as a 
 reader, speaker, and jireacher. But beautiful and musical as it 
 was in itself, it would have been comparatively ineffective had 
 it not been the natural expression of deep and genuine feeling. 
 Alike in reading the Liturgy or the Lessons, and in preach- 
 ing, there was an utter forgetfulness of self, a total absence 
 of mannerism, a mingled tone of earnestness, humility, and 
 reverence. 
 
 And thus, as it has been well said, his reading was ' touching 
 and effective just because no effect was aimed at,'^ and it was 
 commonly remarked that it was 'as good as a sermon,' or 'a 
 sermon in itself,' to hear him read the lessons. 
 
 He was indeed always so much absorbed in the thoughts 
 suggested to him by the course of the Service that he frequently 
 uttered them aloud unconscious or forgetful that they were 
 audible by the congregation. These soliloquies were often 
 jathetic, often instructive, often exceedingly humorous and 
 amusing. On one occasion, after pronouncing the benediction, 
 'may the blessing of God &:c. remain with you always, Amen,' 
 he was overheard earnestly saying, 'And I pray God it may be 
 so indeed to all of us.' So again in the Holy Communion 
 Service after the sentence, ' Jesus Christ came into the world to 
 sav-e sinners,' he used freciuently to ejaculate, ' Of whom I am 
 the chief 
 
 In like manner, he would often make comments on the 
 lessons as they were being read in church. I was once sitting 
 next his stall when the ist chapter of the Epistle of St. James 
 was read, and after the verse, ' My brethren, count it all joy 
 when ye fall into divers temptations ' he observed to himself, ' a 
 ver}^ hard thing to do,' and after the precept, 'be ye doers of 
 the word, not hearers only,' he exclaimed, 'Ah ! that is just the 
 difificulty.' Tliese running comments on the lesson were 
 curiously blended with remarks about his tooth -ache, from 
 which he was suffering at the time ; such as ' 'i'he pain is coming 
 on again,' and the like. 
 
 ' The Rev. II. 15. \V. Cluirton, in the C/t'ro-i';«t7«'x A/l/.y.M/V/^, January 1876 
 
 /
 
 572 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1868- 
 
 One of the Priest- Vicars one day being about to read the 
 second lesson, which was from the Epistle to the Hebrews, 
 announced it as such and such a chapter from the ' Epistle of 
 St. Paul the Apostle to the Hebrews,' upon which the Dean was 
 heard to remark, 'So you've settled that tjuestion, old fellow, 
 have you ? ' alluding to the muc:h debated question who the real 
 author of that Epistle was. 
 
 It was part of the childlike simplicity and honesty of his 
 nature, that he never could affect a vigour and freshness of spirit 
 which he did not feel, or, on the other hand, conceal the 
 buoyancy or depression of spirits which he really was feeling. 
 Thus on one occasion, in his latter years, when he happened to 
 be in unusually good health, as he came down the steps from 
 the choir into the nave of the Cathedral with an almost springy 
 tread, and with a smile on his face, he was heard to say, 'Here 
 we go.' And on the contrary, one day when suffering from 
 languor, as he mounted the pulpit stairs slowly and painfully, 
 he groaned, ' I can't get up, I can't get up,' but having reached 
 the top, he said more cheerfully, ' O yes I can, after all.' 
 
 His fund of humour was deep and inexhaustible, and came 
 out at every turn and in every imaginable variety of way— in 
 boisterous romps with his children — in letters, in conversation, 
 in impromptu rhymes, and not seldom in his sermons, as well 
 as all his other writings. Sometimes, especially in sermons and 
 letters on grave subjects, his sayings were, properly speaking, 
 more witty than humorous ; and generally consisted in placing 
 an opponent in a ridiculous dilemma by some sudden and 
 unexpected turn in the argument. Thus, for instance, when 
 preaching in an Evangelical Church in Liverpool, and defend- 
 ing a reference to the ancient Fathers for assistance in the 
 interpretation of Scripture, he observed : — ' We are told that we 
 ought to refer for our divinity to the Bible, and the Bible only. 
 God knows, my brethren, that I wish the Bible were more 
 extensively read than it is, and no one can regret more than I 
 do Xo find the Bible so generally superseded by tracts.^ He then 
 pointed out that the treatises of the Fathers were after all only 
 tracts ; ' so then,' he continued, 'we are both tract readers : the 
 \
 
 -1 87 5 f^is Htnnoit7'. 573 
 
 only difference being that some of us go for these tracts to St. 
 Chrysostom, and St. Basil, and St. Athanasius : others to a 
 modern Religious Tract Society, no more infallible than the 
 Church of Rome, though the members of both seem to rely on 
 their traditions with undoubting confidence.' 
 
 The same cast of wit was manifested in his reply to a proposal 
 made by the ministers of four denominations that he should 
 join with them in the pastoral supervision of the workhouse. 
 He was sorry, he said, that he could not accede to the plan, for 
 although the writer of the letter was pleased to designate him a 
 generous foe, he regarded the writer as an erring brother. They 
 could not be offended at his refusal, for he understood that they 
 intended to exclude from the arrangement ministers who were 
 not Protestant and Trinitarian. Now he would exclude all who 
 were not Protestant, Trinitarian, and Episcopalian. Their 
 principle therefore was the same. 
 
 I subjoin a specimen of humorous verses, dashed off as a 
 reply to a lady w^ho had sent him some Devonshire cream. 
 
 He drank milk and cream in large quantities, and when the 
 P)ishop's cows were being milked just outside the old city wall, 
 which w^as the boundary of the Deanery garden, the Dean might 
 often be seen making for the cow-house with a large tumbler in 
 his hand, and copious were the draughts which he stole from 
 tiie Episcopal cows : a practice which w^as the subject of much 
 joking between the Deanery and the Palace. 
 
 To Mrs. Adair, on receiving a present of Dev07isJiire Cream. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Adair, — - 
 
 You certainly are 
 
 Most kind to prepare, 
 
 And send to us here, 
 
 Such delicate fare 
 
 As the cream clouted there, 
 
 \\'here, in Devonshire air, 
 
 Tlic cows can repair 
 
 To pastures so fair. 
 
 To chew and to stare,
 
 574 Z//t? of Walter FarqiLliar Hook. 1868- 
 
 Our milkmaids declare 
 That, whatever their care, 
 They none of them dare 
 Their cream to compare 
 \Vith yours rich and rare. 
 V>\\i oh ! Mrs. Adair, 
 I could not forbear 
 To take more than my share 
 Of that delicate fare ; 
 And you must be aware 
 What the penalties were, 
 When, driven to despair, 
 And tearing my hair, 
 I did bellow and blare 
 In a horrid night-mare. 
 
 The following parody of Macaulay is about the cleverest 
 piei c of humorous writing which he ever composed. 1 have 
 thought it too good to be omitted, although being addressed to 
 his intimate friend Sir W. P. Wood, some of the allusions may 
 not be very intelligible to the general reader, and it must iie 
 borne in mind that the references both to his friend and other 
 public characters were intended to be broad caricature. 
 
 By way of explanation it may be observed that Dickens, in 
 his preface to ' Bleak House,' had made some severe remarks 
 upon the equity courts, which Vice-Chancellor Wood at the 
 Lord Mayor's dinner commented upon as uncalled for and 
 imjust. The 'obscure parson in the North' is of course Dr. 
 Hook himself. The judge who attended the early services at 
 Westminster Abbey was Vice-Chancellor Wood, and Bealings 
 is the home of his brother-in-law in Suffolk where he commonly 
 spent his Christmas Vacation. The foot notes are of course 
 part of the travesty. 
 
 Reign of Victoria — 1856. 
 
 Courts of Just ice. 
 
 The Court of Chancery was corrupt. The guardian of lunatics was 
 
 the cause of insanity to the suitors in his court.' An attempt ;it 
 
 ' See Bleak House.
 
 -i875 Parody on Macatilay. 575 
 
 reform was made when Wood was Solicitor General. It consisted 
 chiefly in increasing the number of judges in the ecjuity court. 
 Government was pleased by an increase of patronage ; the lawyers 
 approved of the new professional prizes ; the Government papers 
 applauded.' Wood became Vice-Chancellor. The incorruptible 
 patriotism of John Russell offered a firm but ineffectual opposition 
 to the job." The reforms gave no satisfaction to the public. One 
 suitor out of two was discontented with every judgment given by 
 the new judges, and appeals were frequent.^ The Reformed Courts 
 found a solitary defender ; and he was an interested one. A strange 
 place was chosen for the defence of the High Court of Chancery, 
 It was at a lord mayors feast, when, amidst the fumes of wine, 
 even a Vice-Chancellor may be permitted to see double, and to err 
 in judgment.* Dickens was disgusted and dealt such summary 
 justice to the offending judge that he did not again venture to appear 
 at a lord mayor's feast for two whole years. 
 
 The office of judge in a Court of Equity became almost a 
 sinecure. The judges passed their time pleasantly in examining 
 the curiosities of the Paris Exhibition : or in carrying on flirtations 
 with pretty quakeresses, and teaching their parrots to talk at the 
 sea-side."" When compelled by the rules of Court to be in 
 London, they occupied themselves by giving dinners and dining 
 out/' 
 
 The new Equity Judges confounded religion with superstition. 
 They were much influenced by an obscure parson in the North, 
 who resembled the unprincipled William II. in the colour of his 
 hair and his arbitrary temper, to whom it seemed that prayers 
 were no prayers unless said in a surplice, the babe no Christian 
 unless marked with a cross, and the bread and wine no memorials 
 of Redemption or vehicles of grace, if not received on bended 
 knee.' Under such influence the judges neglected the duties 
 of life to attend the daily service at Westminster Abbey, and 
 were in the habit of closing their courts to enable them to assist in 
 the consecration of Churches which, when consecrated, remained un- 
 
 ' Bell's Life in London ; Law Titnes. 
 
 ^ Cflrrespondence of Lord J. Russell and Lord Cra/nvorih. 
 
 3 Life of Vice-Chancellor Stuart, passim. 
 
 * I'llcak House, Preface. 
 
 ' Wood's Correspondence with Hook, vol. xxi. p. 960. 
 
 *■ Lady Wood's Diary. 
 
 '' Jlook's Correspondence with Wood, vol. xv. p. 1005.
 
 576 Life of Walter Far quhar Hook. 1868- 
 
 filled. At the Abbey the silk j^^owns were represented by \Vhateley„ 
 a connexion of Marlborough,' and the stuff gowns found an occa- 
 sional representative in the person of Robert Hall.'- 
 
 At the close of 1855, the Equity Courts were without business. 
 People had become weary of seeking justice where justice was not to 
 be found. The state of the Bench was unsatisfactory. Cranworth 
 was feeble ; Knight Bruce, though powerful, sacrificed justice to a 
 joke ; Turner was heavy ; Romilly was scientific ; Kindcrsley was 
 slow ; Stuart was pompous ; Wood was at Bealings.^ 
 
 Thus manifold were tlie ways in which his exuberant humour 
 found a vent. It is indeed in the variety of his powers, as well 
 as in the force of character stamped upon all he said and did, 
 that his chief claim lies to be considered an extraordinary man. 
 He was at once an active pastor, an eloquent preacher, a labori- 
 ous student, a voluminous letter writer, an able historian, a 
 witty humorist, a wise practical moralist, an earnest Christian, 
 an ardent patriot, and, every inch of him, a sturdy Englishman. 
 
 ANECDOTES, SAYINGS, Etc. 
 
 He was once preaching in a country church on the anniversary 
 of its consecration. It was the day before a festival, and the proper 
 services for the festival were used. Immediately after the sermon 
 he left the church and went to the parsonage, instead of remaining 
 to Holy Communion. On being asked afterwards whether he was 
 unwell, ' No ! ' he replied, with warmth : ' I did not choose to stay. 
 When one is in a high church or in a low church one knows what to 
 expect, but when the service of one day is transposed to another 
 one cannot tell what is coming next.' 
 
 On another occasion, in a church where he was to preach the 
 consecration sermon, he was requested to wear the black gown in 
 the pulpit. When the Nicene creed was over he did not go into 
 the vestry, but had a black gown brought to him within the altar 
 rails, where he took off his surplice and put on the gown before the 
 
 I Life of WliJteky. 2 /,,yj, of Hall. 
 
 ' L;idy Wood's Diary.
 
 -1 87 5 A necdotes and Sayings. 577 
 
 congregation with a grave and deliberate formality of manner which 
 to some present who understood the humour of the thing was ex- 
 ceedingly entertaining. 
 
 A large meeting had been held to memorialise Government 
 against the proposed union of two Welsh bishoprics. The resolu- 
 tions had been drawn up by a young clerical friend of his, whom he 
 wished with characteristic generosity to bring into notice. So, while 
 speaking at the luncheon afterwards, he took hold of his friend, lifted 
 him off his legs, and cried, ' Gentlemen, I am now carrying the 
 resolutions.' 
 
 Soon after the consecration of the parish church some of the 
 congregation threw out hints that the Sunday morning services 
 were rather too long, there being so much music. One day, coming 
 out from church an old man said, ' Pudding cold, Vicar, pudding 
 cold.' Next day the Vicar said to one of his curates, ' We will 
 shorten the service by leaving out the musical responses to the 
 commandments.' The curate remonstrated ; it would be incon- 
 sistent to read these when all the rest of the service was chanted. 
 ' Inconsistent ! ' cried the Vicar, ' I never was consistent ; I never 
 could have got on as I have, had I been consistent.' And for 
 several days after, he harped on the advantages of not being con- 
 sistent. 
 
 ' I remember years ago, one Sunday, that I had to preach at 
 the Chapel Royal ; and in those days the old Duke used to attend 
 the service there, and when he was in town the congregation may 
 have numbered generally some seven or eight persons, but when he 
 was out of town perhaps two or three. And on this occasion he was 
 out of town. Well ! the morning prayer was over, and the clergy- 
 man who had said it had to leave for duty elsewhere ; and by the 
 time I had mounted the pulpit the clerk had gone into the vestry 
 to stir the fire. I was left alone with the congregation ! Under 
 the circumstances it would have been ridiculous to have preached 
 the sermon, and down I went to the congregation and told him so. 
 lie said— it was a young man I knew — " Oh ! I have come a long 
 way on purpose to hear you preach. I beg you will proceed." 
 " No ! " I said, " I really can't think of such a thing. Besides, how 
 very personal you would find the sermon. But I'll tell you what I'll 
 do. I think I know where you are going after service, and I will 
 walk across the Park with you and give you the heads of my sermor* 
 
 PP
 
 578 Life of Walter Far qiihar Hool\ 1868- 
 
 as we walk along." Then I and Samuel Wilberforce, Esqi/i're, 
 walked across the Park together ! ' 
 
 ' I often write fiercely, — too fiercely: but I can never talk angrily 
 when I meet my opponent face to face.' 
 
 'As to your question' [respecting a detail of ritual] 'I must 
 observe that I am not a good ritualist, for I left all ritualist arrange- 
 ments to my seven curates, only interfering to prevent nonsense.' 
 
 ' The great object is to win men to Christ. Go with their pre- 
 judices as far as you can : not like too many of our brethren, who 
 love to run counter to them.' 
 
 ' Some preachers think only of their sermon : others think only 
 of themselves : the man who wins the soul is the man who aims at it.' 
 
 ' In preaching, first state your case : then state your facts : then 
 make out your case : then sum up. Learn your sermon almost by 
 heart before you preach it. If your sermon is not in your opinion 
 a good one, deliver it as if you thought it was a good one.' 
 
 Some one having asked him whom he would recommend as a 
 model for a good style in sermon-writing, he smiled and said, ' Don't 
 take any model. Don't imitate anybody. Think well first what 
 you have to say, and then say it in your own way in as simple and 
 forcible language as you can command.' 
 
 ' Do your rector's work, but let him get the credit of it, and then 
 you are sure to be good friends.' 
 
 ' Nothing better can happen to a young pastor, after entering 
 upon his work in a parish, than to sufiter a defeat and to bear it 
 wcW 
 
 ' Stick to your principles, but don't have too many of them. No 
 man is more tiresome than he who makes ^.pri7iciple of everything 
 which he happens to like^ and therefore wotit yield.' 
 
 ' I do not count for much any sacrifices of worldly comfort when 
 a man is paid by notoriety and power.' 
 
 ' Archbishop Harcourt used to chide me in my younger days 
 for speaking and writing too freely. " If you don't mind your 
 tongue and pen," he said, " you'll never get on." My answer was,
 
 -1 87 5 Anecdotes and Sayings. 579 
 
 " I am in the place that exactly suits me : 1 don't want to get on^ 
 and I would rather speak out my mind." ' 
 
 ' My love to my Saviour has long been with me an enthusiasm, 
 and from the joy I experience in my old age through his Holy 
 Spirit I wish to win others to Him. Christianity is not only happi- 
 ness in reversion : it is happiness in hand.' 
 
 ' Enthusiasm often leads us into scrapes, but then it wafts us to 
 regions of enjoyment unknown to those whose minds are ever groping 
 in this world's darkness. It exposes us to the ridicule of those who 
 are " coldly correct and classically dull ; " but then it brings down 
 heaven to earth.' 
 
 ' I often think on that divine friendship between our blessed 
 Lord and St. John, which has invested friendship with a sacramen- 
 tal character. It is a sweet beginning to a prayer for a friend : 
 " O Thou who hadst in St. John a disciple whom Thou didst 
 love, and who didst love the home of Martha and Mary and their 
 brother Lazarus," &c. How admirable is the plan of the Church 
 collects, which our Protestant primates can never understand : to 
 wit, an invocation, which is a kind of introduction, indirectly 
 pointing to the petition, then the petition, one and single, then the 
 reference to that name and those merits through which alone we 
 approach the Holy One.' 
 
 ' When I preach for a temperance society I shall take for my 
 text " The Cities of Refuge." There are hospitals for special forms 
 of bodily disease ; of the eye, of the lungs, and so on. Temperance 
 societies are hospitals for weak wills. The man in a sound state 
 of moral health ought'not to have recourse to a hospital.' 
 
 ' Confession in the Anglican Church is to be exceptional, not 
 habitual — a remedy for a disease. The great aim of the priest 
 who hears confession should be to enable the person to do without 
 confession, as the aim of the doctor should be to enable his patient 
 to do without a doctor. Out of thirty-five persons who sought me 
 for confession at the beginning of one year, I had but two or three 
 left at the end of it, and then I thought I had done well.' 
 
 ' A gentleman once came to me who said he was contemplatinp 
 secession to the Church of Rome and wanted advice. I soon found 
 that his mind was really quite made up, and that to argue with him 
 
 I' 1' 2
 
 58o Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 
 
 was vain ; but I chose to assume that he was still in doubt, and 
 said, " You are in a dangerous state, and it is my duty to impose a 
 penance on you : read the first volume of ' Bingham's Antiquities,' 
 and when you have finished, come to me and tell me what effect it 
 has produced upon your mind." In the course of a few days he 
 returned and said he had read a little of " Bingham," but found 
 the quotations so inaccurate, that he did not care to go farther. 
 Such is the force of prejudice, for Bingham is remarkably exact in 
 his references.' 
 
 A young artisan in whom he took great interest, and who \\-as 
 permitted to visit him whenever he pleased, seeing a light in his 
 study as he went to work at five o'clock one cold winter's morning, 
 went in. He expressed surprise that the Vicar should turn out at 
 so early an hour. ' Well, my lad,' the Vicar replied, ' it takes a 
 deal of courage to get up at all, and it requires only a little more 
 to get up at four.' 
 
 At a Church meeting, more seats being required, some benches 
 were borrowed from a chapel hard by. ' You see,' said the Vicar, 
 ' if the Dissenters won't adopt our ceremonies, we don't object to 
 borrow their forms.' 
 
 ' The reason why I have published so many tracts, pamphlets, 
 and sermons nearly on the same subject is a conviction, that t» 
 make an impression on the public mind you must keep up an in- 
 cessant and running fire : a few attacks, however strong and sturdy, 
 are, in this superficial age, of little avail. Reiterate, reiterate, 
 reiterate : you must act on the principle of " gutta cavat lapidem." ' 
 
 ' There is much hatred of the Church among the working people 
 as an aristocratic institution ; but there is no love of Dissent. The 
 feeling prevalent with them is that all religion is humbug, and that 
 we each support it as a party. Party feeling indeed has usurped 
 that class of feelings which should bind them to the Church : I 
 believe many of the lower orders would die for their party r 
 their leading men seem unable to realise any other idea. My 
 Chartist churchwardens would do anything for me consistent 
 with their duty to their ^ar/y, and would come and tell me that the 
 Church party would do themseves good if they would do this or 
 that : they could not imagine ever having a wish for anything but 
 the good of your party. A Chartist once stopped me in the street 
 and said, " Well, Vicar, I sits under )-ou now." " I'm glad to hear
 
 -1 875 Anecdotes and Sayings. 581 
 
 it.'' "Aye, and Tm quite satisfied.'' "1 am sorry to hear that, 
 because I wish to make those who sit under me af/j'satisfied with 
 themselves." " That's all right ; but I used to go to meetingers ; 
 but now I don't, for when the working people want anything the 
 Dissenting ministers are not to be found, and we begin to see that 
 the Church parsons are the people for us." Now this shows the 
 feeling. Here was a man who had some religion, and justified his 
 going to church to lu's par/y on the ground of our party not being 
 opposed to his.' 
 
 'A good talker is often a very poor writer, because he has got 
 out of conversation all the exercise which his intellect wants. He is 
 inspired by company, just as another is inspired by taking a pen into 
 his hand.' 
 
 * Irvingism is High Church run mad.' 
 
 * Lord Aberdeen a little before his death sent a message to m^e 
 that he wished me to know that he had twice mentioned me for a 
 bishopric, but the proposal was vetoed. Lincoln I guess was one, 
 Sodor and Man the other. Lincoln would have been at once 
 refused, but Man ! — that would have been a temptation.' 
 
 ' I once preached before the Social Science Association in 
 Westminster Abbey : afterwards I dined with Lord Lansdowne, 
 who asked me sarcastically what Social Science meant. He 
 added, " I know what the Social Science Association means : it 
 means an association got up to do honour to Lord Brougham."' 
 
 'A little diversity of character is advantageous in marriage. 
 On the man's side a degree of ardour which excites to action : on 
 the woman's a degree of gentleness which restrains this ardour 
 within due bounds : this is the proper thing. Ardour without 
 gentleness degenerates into savageness, and gentleness without 
 ardour into insipidity.' 
 
 'When I travel on the Continent, if I find myself next to a 
 German at the table d'hote, I open the conversation with two ques- 
 tions : " Do you speak English .? " " Do you hate the French ? " If 
 he answers " Yes " to both, I say, " Oh ! then we shall get on 
 together.*' 
 
 ' I have endeavoured in my histoi-y to throw myself into the 
 feelings and principles of all parties, giving to all tlicir due, though
 
 582 Life of Walter FaTqiihar Hook. 1868- 
 
 not concealing my own convictions. My temptation to violate my 
 rule in this respect is when I have to do with a Frenchman or a 
 Puritan.' 
 
 ' If circumstances are bad, all the more reason why you should 
 make the best of them and not the worst. I hate people who are 
 always finding fault with the Church. Never cry "stinking fish.'" 
 
 ' I am slow to suspect any one, though rather inclined to be 
 violent when I have detected a rogue.' 
 
 LETTERS, 1868-1875, 
 
 To E. A. Frce/na/i, Esq. — Cliaractcr of Cranmcr. 
 
 February 24, 1868. 
 
 By the Sectarians I mean those members of the English 
 Church who talk of ' our beloved Church,' and regard it as a Sect 
 founded by S. Cranmer aided by S. Henry. They are perfectly 
 mad against me. I wrote the Lives of Warham and Cranmer with 
 a view of showing how unhistorical is the position taken by Sec- 
 tarians of ' the established Church.' The Reformation fairly began 
 in Warham's episcopate, when Cranmer was a nobody. Pocock 
 and others of his school are offended by my not making out Cranmcr 
 to be a worse character than he really was. 
 
 I believe him to have been a very good, weak, rather worldly 
 man, and I am sure I felt, all the time I was dealing with the hard 
 facts that go against him, that I should probably have been as bad 
 as he was, under similar circumstances. I will go any length in 
 seeking to palliate his conduct, and I really think I have done 
 so, but I cannot go the length of regarding him as a Saint or a 
 hero. 
 
 To the same — Erasmus and Pole. 
 
 There is something deeply interesting to my mind in reading 
 contemporary letters. I had last year to make myself thoroughly 
 acquainted with Erasmus. What a fine old fellow he was, with all 
 his faults ! How charming are his letters ! Very different are the 
 letters of Pole. Erasmus was a man of genius, creating the lan- 
 guage in which he wrote. It is Erasmian Latin.
 
 -i875 Letters, 1 868-1 875. 583 
 
 Pole, a good man, but not more than a man of talent, aflfects the 
 Ciceronian style. You know that Erasmus says what he thinks. 
 Pole, before writing, thought only of what a man in his situation 
 ought to write, and then affected Ciceronian phrases. I was brought 
 up by Dr. Cabell to be an intense admirer, as I was at one time a 
 great reader, of Cicero, so I read Pole with a certain amount of 
 pleasure. But if I met Erasmus I should go up to him, shake 
 hands with him, and make a joke. To Pole, I should take off my 
 hat, and say I felt much honoured by making his acquaintance ; 
 feel shy, and get away as fast as I could. 
 
 To Lord J II slice Wood — Declines to become a Member of ' Nobody's 
 
 Club! 
 
 March 9, 1868. 
 
 As to the letter of ' Nobody,' I am a ' clubbable man.' Of 
 several clubs I have been called the father ; and last week I re- 
 ceived a visit from Mr. Reynolds, a Dissenting minister (or, as they 
 call themselves, a Nonconformist minister), who formed with me at 
 Leeds a Conversation Club still in existence. It was a grand club ; 
 it consisted of twenty members, but never more than nine were 
 pemiitted to attend. We met weekly at one another's houses. 
 Invitations were sent to the first nine : perhaps si.x sent e.xcuses ; 
 then the six remaining from number ten were invited, and so on. 
 
 The nine sat at a round table, drank tea, and had a literary 
 subject proposed for discussion (which never was attended to). 
 The conversation was general. The chairman kept the talk, how- 
 ever, to literary' or scientific matters. I wish we had a sufficient 
 number of men of erudition to make such a club here, but here we 
 are very unliterary. I should, I make no doubt, enjoy ' Nobody ' 
 -^for I should meet many contemporaries. 
 
 But (without having much pride in me) I owe it to myself to 
 decline. My father was a ' Nobody,' the Norrises, the Watsons, 
 the Churtons, and many of my old friends were Nobodies, I longed 
 often to be a Nobody : it was a silent object of ambition, until I 
 arrived at that time of life when one wishes for nothing. I saw 
 contemporaries — even juniors — elected, not persons higher than 
 myself in public estimation, but I was passed by. 
 
 And having been passed by, I do not choose, in my old age, to 
 take my place as a junior member. I only say this, because it was 
 a club from which, from the persons forming it, I had a right to
 
 584 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1868- 
 
 expect that my being one of them would be considered a pleasure. 
 I always dismiss these trumpery feelings from my mind immediately. 
 Still they have existed, and now that I am reminded of them, I 
 think I am not doing wrong in positively saying, I will never be 
 a Nobody. I will remain a Somcljody, as I shall be while I may 
 call myself 
 
 "\ our devoted Friend. 
 
 To Lord Justice Wood — Patience and Prayer. 
 
 Chichester : March 9, 1868. 
 
 I am truly sorry for our friend , but his is what I call a 
 
 ivrestling case. He is undergoing a trial of temper and of faith. 
 His heart forgets what his head would acknowledge, that whom the 
 Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom He 
 receiveth. We may weep when we are scourged, but excess of 
 howling and self-vindication is the effect of a want of faith. We 
 may be angry when we are wronged, but excess of anger is sin. 
 
 What is to be sought for.'' A new heart, which shaliy^^/aswell 
 as say^ ' Father, not my will but thine be done.' And how are we 
 to obtain that new heart in which the idol Self will be cast down 
 and the throne of God erected ? It will be said ' by prayer,' — yes : 
 but not by the quiet utterance of a wish, as in our ordinary asking 
 and seeking. There must be a knocking. The Prince Israel must 
 wrestle with God. Go into your room — lock your door — prostrate 
 yourself before God — cry aloud, it may be, for hours, but get not 
 up till there is a spirit within, saying ' Thy prayer is heard.' I have 
 known persons comforted in an hour, I have known others weeping 
 a whole night. Some will call this enthusiasm ; but I know\\. to be 
 a means of peace and strength— permanent peace and strength. 
 
 To A'. Bcnt/ey, Esq. 
 
 March 30, 1868. 
 
 . . . You mistake Pole's character. There was no man who 
 held all Protestant doctrine more strongly than Pole. He and the 
 illustrious Paleario, Contarini, Sadolet, and Vittoria Colonna were 
 the great Reformers of Italy. Pole held Lutheran doctrine long 
 before it was held by Cranmer — if by Cranmer it was ever held at 
 all. He was a strong upholder of the Papal discipline^ but be 
 scarcely escaped being burnt at Rome for a heretic. If you are 
 interested in these subjects you had better read Mrs. Roscoe's
 
 -i875 Letiei^s, 1 868-1 875. 585 
 
 '" Vittoria Colonna,' and Mrs. Young's ' Paleario.' The ladies are 
 very strong Protestants. 
 
 To iJic same. 
 
 1868. 
 
 . . . Pole is one of the greatest prelates our Church has pro- 
 duced. I hope that you have not directly or indirectly spoken of 
 the new volumes, as if I had undertaken to write the Life of a ' Pro- 
 testant martyr' \\hen writing the life of Dr. Cranmer. 
 
 For what or in what cause was he a martyr ? Poor fellow ! 
 "burning must be a terrible death, so Ave must not be severe upon 
 him, but never did man ever tell such a heap of falsehoods — lie upon 
 lie, as he did to escape martyrdom. He died at last, because, like 
 the rest of us, he could not help it, but he lied like a trooper to put 
 ■off the inevitable hour as long as he could. He had sent others 
 to death because they disagreed with him in opinion, and his 
 opinions were always changing. He said he died a Catholic. 
 What are we to believe 1 What kind of a Protestant was he ? like 
 Mr. Froude or Dr. Cumming ? But I really do not think he was 
 so bad a man as Lord Macaulay, Mr. Pocock, and others make 
 him out to have been. He was, I am convinced, a well-meaning, 
 good-natured man, though he did bum a few people, and I am inclined 
 to think he did more good than harm to our Church, though the 
 harm he did through his want of fixed principles, his time-serving, 
 his indolence, and his worldliness was great. 
 
 Roiiorse. 
 
 Deanery, Chichester : April 9, 1868. 
 
 My dear Dean of , — At the house of mourning and at the 
 
 graves of my youngest grandchild and its great-grandmother, my 
 wife's mother, there have been great searchings of the heart. 
 
 My conscience smites me for having written a harsh and un- 
 called-for letter to you, some time ago, under a fear lest, in defend- 
 ing you on one occasion, I might seem insincere. 
 
 I do not ask you to forgive me, for that, I am sure, you have 
 already done. 
 
 I do not ask you io forget, for that depends upon the memory. 
 
 But I do ask you to believe me when I say that I am sorry, 
 very sorry, that I wrote that letter if it gave you any annoyance. 
 
 Do not trouble yourself to acknowledge the receipt of this letter, 
 but please to consider it as confidential. I should not like any-
 
 586 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1868- 
 
 one except a kind-hearted man to see this letter. A mere man of 
 the world would laugh at it, and one does not like to be laughed at. 
 .... An old man passing out of the Church militant — oh ! how I 
 hope and trust, into the Church triumphant — wishes to depart in 
 peace, forgiving and being forgiven. 
 
 Yours very truly. 
 
 To Lady Elizabcih Grey. 
 
 September 27, 1868. 
 
 I wish that I had received your letter at the beginning instead of 
 the end of the week. I remember with so much pleasure the last 
 visit I paid to Castle Howard, that if such had been the case, I 
 should have contrived to accept the veiy kind invitation of the 
 Admiral and Mrs. Howard, but I could not now change my plans 
 without putting others to an inconvenience, which I should not be 
 justified in doing. To-morrow I am expected by seven grand- 
 children at Eydon, with tips in my purse for the elder ones, and 
 toys in my bag for the younger ; I must be at Chichester (D.v.) on 
 Wednesday to receive some Leeds friends. 1 wish Mr. Grey could 
 have been in Leeds parish church, from which 1 have just returned 
 this evening. There was a choir of fifty persons, and I suppose 
 that our musical services were rendered as nearly perfect as is 
 often heard. I preached to a mob of old friends, there being ' no- 
 room for standing, miscalled standing room ; ' you might have 
 heard a pin drop. Will you tell Mr. Grey that I was seldom more 
 gratified than I was by the receipt of his kind, flattering, warm- 
 hearted letter ; I do love warm-heartedness. 
 
 To iJic Bishop of Oxfo7-d. 
 
 1868. 
 
 I have felt the death of dear Archbishop Longley most acutely. 
 I could not restrain my tears yesterday, when I thought of him I 
 should have liked to have had one little conversation more with 
 him before his departure. 
 
 For the first ten years, our opinions, when he was my diocesan, 
 on many points differed ; for the last ten we were entirely one. I 
 have known him therefore as an opponent almost, and as a friend, 
 and I can truly say I never met with anyone so just, so patient, so 
 placable, so considerate and kind, as the dear good Archbishop, 
 whose example by God's blessing has had the most beneficial influ- 
 ence upon my character. . . I knew him from our Christ Church
 
 -i875 Letters, 1868-1875. 587 
 
 days, and always found him beloved. He had not genius, but he 
 had considerable talent, and talents indeed which were peculiarly 
 useful to him in his various situations. 
 
 To the Bishop of Oxford. 
 
 November 1868. 
 
 I hope you do not feel disappointed.' Perhaps few men have 
 had more failures than I, but not disappointments, for I have 
 always had a tendency to think the place I am in the best. An old 
 friend was laughing at me the other day, because I have thought at 
 different times the Isle of Wight, Birmingham, Coventrj', Leeds, 
 and Chichester, each in its turn, a Paradise on earth. It may be 
 so, but only comparatively, for my first ten years at Leeds were 
 years of most bitter persecution. 
 
 I failed as a pastor, I failed as a preacher, and I shall fail as an 
 author, notwithstanding your kind support ; but still I am a jolly, 
 fat old fellow, only anxious now to obtain a good start for my sons. 
 
 To Lady Elizabeth Grey — Sympathy — 0/d and Mode^'u School 
 of High Cliurchmcii — T lie Privy Council. 
 
 Deanery : January 30, 1869. 
 ... I do not like to intrude again on your brother's sorrow — 
 at least, not immediately. You will perhaps, therefore, let him see 
 this letter, with my kind love : I think of him often. There is 
 something very comforting in communion with one another in 
 prayer, which the infidel and careless cannot understand. The 
 whole character of sympathy, the impulse to weep with them that 
 weep, and to rejoice with them that do rejoice, is a mystery, but we 
 see its object and we should surely cultivate it : I doubt whether a 
 clergyman can become a good pastor without it. Some people say 
 it is more difficult to rejoice with them that do rejoice than to 
 weep with them that weep. I cannot say that it is so with me ; 
 but we are all so differently constituted. I flare up, as it were, 
 when I hear of any une.xpected happiness coming to those whom 
 I love ; and I am sure that this is the case with you, judging from 
 the kind manner in which you allude to my son's preferment. . . . 
 As to the latter part of your letter, I have only to say that I am 
 perplexed and confounded by the state of things in the Church of 
 England. A man of seventy-one finds himself pushed on one side 
 ' At not l;cing made Bishoi) of London.
 
 Life of Walter Farqiihar Hook. 1868- 
 
 by a generation which 'knows not Josepli,' and, though I kept up 
 my sympathies with the younger generation longer than most men, 
 I cannot understand the young men at the present time. , . . 
 
 When / was called a High Churchman, we meant by the word 
 one who, having ascertained that the Church of England was 
 reformed on the right principle, cordially accepted the work of the 
 Iveformers, hating Rome as much as Rome hates us. We meant 
 by a High Churchman one who, thinking the Church wiser than 
 himself, observed her regulations and obeyed her laws, whether we 
 understood them or not. My only quarrel with the Evangelicals 
 was, that instead of asking what the Church required, they did 
 what they in their unwisdom thought expedient. The Church was 
 reformed on the right principle, therefore I bow to her decision : 
 the Reformers who applied that principle were more learned men 
 than I, and to their judgment I defer. If the proper authorities in 
 the Church see fit to make changes to meet the exigencies of the 
 time, all I require of them is that they adhere to the principle of 
 our Reformation and I will then obey them. 
 
 I see no objection to the Committee of Privy Council being our 
 final court of appeal : they do not form a synod, and here is the 
 mistake so often made. In an ancient synod the members were 
 legislators as well as judges. If they decided that such or such a 
 thing was contrary to law, they might say ' the law is a bad one, 
 therefore we will make a new law.' The Committee of Privy 
 Council does nothing of the kind. I wish to obey the law : you 
 say that the law says one thing, I say it means another — and w ho 
 shall decide ? It is a question, not of opinion, but of fact : and 
 who can deal with such a subject so well as lawyers .? Who could 
 be worse judges than ecclesiastics, who would endeavour to bend 
 the law to their opinion ? 
 
 The old High Churchman was wont to say, ' I will do what the 
 Church orders me to do.' ' 1 like,' he might say, 'lights upon the 
 altar ; but \{ you dislike it, let us ask what the law says. To ascer- 
 tain that fact I go, not to parsons but to lawyers, who are not to 
 make the law, but to discuss A\hat it was made by ecclesiastics.' 
 
 To E. A. Frcciiiaii, Esq. — Character of Pole and Cranmer. 
 
 October i, 1869. 
 
 . . . Oh ! by the way, Pole is out. He was printed five months 
 •ago, so it seems to me like an old story. I have given his history
 
 -i875 Letters, 1868-1875. 589 
 
 impartially, and, as my manner is, I have stated facts without 
 thinking it necessary at all times to defend his consistency or 
 to account for his conduct. Many important actions originate in 
 the very lowest motives, and the best intentions sometimes result 
 in the worst of measures. A man may be a bad man at twenty, 
 and a saint at fifty, or at fifty he may belie the promise of his 
 youth. 
 
 When men are decidedly religious or decidedly irreligious, it is 
 comparatively easy to write their lives. When men are goodish 
 men, like Cranmer and Pole — seeking the kingdom of heaven and 
 its righteousness, but not in the first place — when their religion is 
 evidently contaminated by their worldliness or their passions, or 
 their worldliness only partially restrained by their religion — when 
 they are without sufficient strength to resist the temptation to do 
 wrong, but are so weakened by the reproach of conscience as to do 
 the wrong timidly, thus serving neither God nor mammon — then it 
 is difficult to do them justice, and the party prejudices of the judge 
 have scope for action. It is said of Barham that he said, when a 
 boy, to an equivocating schoolfellow, ' If you do tell a lie, tell a 
 good one.' The goodish men tell the lie, but by their vacillating 
 manner they let it be perceived that they are conscious all the 
 while of being liars, and so they betray themselves to others. 
 There is nothing like straightforwardness for this world and the 
 next. 
 
 To E. A. Freeman, Esq. 
 
 December 20, 1869. 
 I have been visiting my old friends in Warwickshire. I was a 
 curate at Birmingham forty-one years ago, and afterwards an in- 
 cumbent, or rather vicar, of a parish in Coventry ; and as in the 
 autumn I went to pay a farewell visit to my friends in Yorkshire, 
 so now I have done the same in Warwickshire. One old man said 
 to me, ' Why, sir, when you were here we all thought that you 
 would be Archbishop of Canterbury ! ' Is that a compliment, 
 showing how highly I was esteemed when young, or a rebuke, 
 showing how I belied expectation .'' I then went to see my son, 
 the Vicar of Morton, all happy in the first days of marriage. I 
 preached for him three times, and one of his parishioners was 
 kind enough to say, 'Your father, sir, is the peertest old gentle- 
 man I ever seed.' So I return to my quiet nest well pleased and 
 satisfied.
 
 590 Life of Walter Far quhar Hook. 1868- 
 
 Noiicl-rcading. 
 
 Deanery, Chichester : May 2, 1870. 
 
 My dear I\Irs. Akroyd, — My heart is very thankful for your con- 
 tinued good report of my very dear friend. I do not know whether 
 he has ever seen me in a rage, but my curates used to tell me that 
 my frown was terrible, though I could not retain it long. Please to 
 tell the colonel that if he does not obey you, or if he dares to think^ 
 I shall be soon at his sofa side to give him a terrible frown. 
 
 I hope he likes novels, there is nothing like novel-reading to an 
 invalid. I am reading to Mrs. Hook every evening some old friends 
 of ours— Miss Austen's novels, ' Pride and Prejudice,' and ' Emma.' 
 They will bear reading over and over again. 
 
 I am thus repaying my wife, who during one of my illnesses 
 read to me all Walter Scott. I place my example before your 
 husband, because he is pleased to think better of me than I de- 
 serve, and therefore I put before him a fact which is worthy of 
 imitation. Indeed I always have a novel in hand. I read slowly, 
 and consequently my children and grandchildren laugh at me, be- 
 cause a novel lasts me a long time, but when a man has much to 
 do, a little time thus spent does the mind good. I do not urge 
 this on your husband when he is in health, because he can find re- 
 creation (which I never could) in field-sports, but I insist on it when 
 he is an invalid. 
 
 He will be amused by the follow ing case. A lady of fortune 
 complained of great depression of spirits, and this was partly occa- 
 sioned by the fact of her having a pale and sickly complexion, 
 although the doctor said there was nothing really the matter with 
 her. So we, the doctor and I, put our heads together. I prescribed 
 a course of Walter Scott, the doctor prescribed a judicious applica- 
 tion of rouge to her cheeks. The visitors exclaimed, ' Dear me, 
 how well you look ! Her maid said, ' Missus can't lay down those 
 pious books which the minister has given her.' She got well. 
 Whether she left off the rouge I cannot tell, but she continues to 
 read novels with moderation ; her chief business being in her 
 schools. On the other hand, I lately attended an old man in 
 London \ he had made 500,000/. in business. When he became 
 too old for business he sent to me, as he was anxious about his 
 soul. But he could not give his mind to that, so he was utterly 
 miserable from having nothing to do ; and he could not comprehend 
 :the pleasure to be derived from a work of fiction. We should
 
 -i875 Letters, 1 868-1 875. 591 
 
 cultivate our tastes,, as your dear husband does. In him are 
 wonderfully united a love of work, and an appreciation of art (or of 
 other men's work), as is the case always when the sympathies are 
 easily excited. 
 
 Tfl F. T. Pal grave, Esq., on the Death of his Infant Son. 
 
 August 3, 1870. 
 
 When a baby is taken from the evil to come, the sorrow which 
 the parents experience meets in general with very little sympathy, 
 but with you and your wife under your present affliction my wife 
 and I can sympathise, for a similar affliction was ours, and although 
 thirty -three years have elapsed since we wept over the cradle, not of 
 our eldest child, but of our first-born boy, we never forget the pang 
 which his death occasioned us, while the very fact that they are few 
 in number who can sympathise, supplies a fresh ligament to bind 
 together the hearts of the parents. 
 
 One source of comfort is to be found in the certainty that we 
 have a new treasure in heaven. 
 
 In the spiritual house which the Divine Architect is building, 
 He requires stones of every size, small as well as great, the fresh 
 imstained soul of childhood, and the soul that has been hewn and 
 chiselled and beaten into shape by the cares, temptations, and 
 struggles of life. We are each predestined to our place in the great 
 spiritual building, and life in this world is the time for the pre- 
 paration of the stones ; while part of our happiness hereafter will, 
 no doubt, consist in our seeing all has been ordered so as to qualify 
 us for our eternal position. 
 
 To the Rev. Dr. Stonghton. 
 
 I take the trouble of writing because I value your friendship, 
 and because the course pursued by has, in my humble judg- 
 ment, a tendency to destroy the good understanding which is 
 beginning to exist between Churchmen and Dissenters, and to 
 which, as you say, I have within my humble sphere conduced. 
 
 That good understanding exists, why? Simply because we 
 agree to differ on religion, and find in literature a bond of union. 
 
 We may differ in our opinion as to the real importance of our 
 points of difference. I may think them of importance, and another 
 man may think the points of difference relate to unimportant 
 matters. Be it so : — But don't let me tell a lie, and say that no
 
 592 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1868- 
 
 real points of difference do exist between us. At the proper time, 
 let those who will, discuss our differences. Controversies, we know 
 from Scripture, there must be ; only in social life let us meet as 
 friends. How.? By setting aside those points of difference upon 
 which our minds are made up, and conversing on the many things 
 on which we know that we asrree. 
 
 To iJie Rev. E. Jacksoi — On Jieariiig of t lie mortal Illness of 
 3Ir. y. HI. Tentianf. 
 
 April 1872. 
 
 . . . My dear dear old Tennant ! my kind, my faithful friend to 
 whose sympathy I could always look ! though we are separated, 
 and though I may even yet go before him, I cannot help grieving 
 to think that we shall in this world meet no more, and it is a 
 rule with me with regard to others as well as to myself, never 
 to oppose nature, when nature is sanctified, but only to guard 
 against excess, whether of joy or of woe. Afflictions are sent to 
 make us grieve, just as joys are sent to make us grateful. And so, 
 while I pray for poor dear old Tennant, I will weep for myself. Oh 
 that I were like him. He never seemed to have any one object in 
 view except to do his duty, and he thought it his duty to labour for 
 his friends. In committee, when anything was to be done which 
 no one liked to attempt, Tennant always seemed to think that, as a 
 matter of course, the labour devolved on him, and he would under- 
 take it. I never knew a man in whom self was so entirely ignored : 
 and oh ! how humbly did he rely on his Saviour's merits ! how 
 patiently did he wait upon Him ! 
 
 A stc7-n Refusal. 
 
 The Deanery, Chichester : August 14, 1873. 
 
 Sir, — I have the honour to acknowledge the receipt of a letter 
 from you, dated the 12th instant. 
 
 That letter contains the copy of an address which you and some 
 of your co-religionists propose to forward to Prince Bismarck, for 
 the purpose of expressing your approbation of his treatment of the 
 Jesuits residing in the German Empire. 
 
 You call upon me to attach my signature to the document. 
 Opposed as I am to intolerance, and to persecutions either direct 
 or indirect, in every shape and form. I decline to sign the address. 
 
 If, for political purposes, the Em.peror of Germany sees fit to
 
 -i875 Letters, 1 868-1 8 75. 593 
 
 banish from his dominions any sect, either Romish or Protestant, 
 his Majesty has an undoubted right so to do, provided that he is 
 supported by a majority of his subjects. 
 
 But no Prince can be justified in employing for the furtherance 
 of a mere sectarian object, the power with which he is invested for 
 other purposes. The document you have forwarded to me per- 
 verts a poHtical movement into a sectarian act, which I am con- 
 vinced was never contemplated by the Emperor or by Prince 
 Bismarck. 
 
 Much might be said on this subject, but I shall content myself 
 with expressing a hope that no persons who can rise above mere 
 party feeling will sign this document until they have considered 
 well St. Luke ix. 55. I have the honour to be. Sir, - 
 
 Your obedient humble servant. / 
 
 After the unhappy events at St. Saviour's, Leeds, there was 
 a long cessation of intercourse between Dr. Hook ani Dr. 
 Pusey. How their friendship was renewed will be learned 
 from the following letters, which will be read with satisfaction 
 by all who deplored the temporary estrangement of two great 
 minds and noble hearts. 
 
 Deanery, Chichester : July 1873. 
 
 My dear Canon Liddon, . . • Your presence to my brother is 
 invaluable,' and not less so to me ; for a friendship that passing 
 through time is to last for eternity, as is the case with Christian 
 friendships, is a treasure above all price. . . . May God Almighty 
 bless you for your brotherly kindness. 
 
 Can you add to your favours .'' Can you tell that saint whom 
 England persecuted, our dearly beloved Pusey, that I should like, 
 as I am passing out of this world, to be permitted to renew the 
 friendship with him which in my youthful days was my joy and 
 crown of rejoicing ? 
 
 Dr. Liddon conveyed this message to Dr. Pusey, who re- 
 plied as follows : — 
 
 Sidmouth House, Malvern : August i. 
 
 My dearest Hook, — 'I'hank you much for your loving message 
 
 which Liddon conveyed to me, and for your loving prayers while I 
 
 ' Dr. Liddon visited Mr. Roljcrt Hook ministerially during his death illness. 
 
 QQ
 
 594 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1868- 
 
 was so ill at Genoa. God heard them, and I can now walk about 
 (though my breath is still weak) and write my Commentary. 
 
 What a long life of friendship it has been since 1819, when I 
 used to come down from my garret to your rooms in Peckwater 
 fifty-four years ago ! Who could have imagined what lay before 
 us ! I am so sorry that some whom I sent to St. Saviour's worried 
 you. I always studied you, though I was misinformed in two cases. 
 
 I am grieved to hear that you are suffering, and that your 
 brother is passing away. Death has swept away more of those whom 
 I love in these last few months than for a long time before. I need 
 not ask you to remember me, since you do this so earnestly, as I 
 you, during our remaining pilgrimage. 
 
 God be with you now and ever. 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 E. B. PUSEY. 
 
 To the Hon. C. Wood — On the Public Worship Bill. 
 
 June 13, 1874. 
 I must confess that if I were to appear among you,^ I should 
 have great difficulty in selecting the subject on which to speak. 
 The modifications of form which the Public Worship Regulation 
 Bill has undergone, with all its twistings and turnings, have 
 rendered it impossible for me to know exactly what the Bill is — it 
 is certainly no longer the Archbishop's Bill. It certainly deserves 
 to be thrown out, or to be so modified as to be tantamount to a 
 rejection, for his original Bill was not drawn up by a person 
 qualified to meet all the difficulties of the case. . . . 
 
 We will, however, let this pass. Unsupported by the majority 
 of prelates, the Bill was altered by Lord Shaftesbury and the Lord 
 Chancellor. We may truly say that there are four Bills now before 
 the House of Lords, and probably this will become a fifth Bill before 
 it is sent to the House of Commons. 
 
 These appear to me to be grounds of complaint, and when we 
 look forward to the debates in the House of Commons we cannot 
 hide from ourselves the fact that if anything is passed, it will mani- 
 festly pass without time for deliberate consideration on the part of 
 those whom it chiefly concerns. 
 
 This appears to me to be the great practical question at the 
 present time. Justice is conceded to every institution for which 
 
 ^ Having been pressed to attend a meeting held to consider the measure.
 
 -i875 Letters, 1 868-1875. 595 
 
 Parliament legislates. Are we to say, except the Church of 
 England ? 
 
 Another point to be considered is this, that the Bill appears to 
 aim at a uniform observance of the rubrics irrespectively of the 
 state of things which custom has gradually introduced, and of the 
 desire of the congregation or of the parishioners generally. 
 
 I think that everyone who carefully considers our position will 
 admit that a general observance of the rubrics is as much as ought 
 to be imposed by the courts. Any attempt to compel uniform 
 observance will lead to efforts to change the rubrics, and these 
 efforts will be full of danger. As this seems to be the object of all 
 the Bills, we may predicate a want of wisdom with regard to the 
 whole measure : the difficulty of legislation is much greater than 
 persons generally suppose ; I do not wish to grant too much 
 latitude. 
 
 It appears to me (and on this principle I have always acted) 
 that in towns where more than one church exists, one of those 
 churches may be fairly devoted to choral services, but it becomes a 
 very different question when a parish exists where there is one 
 church only ; it will be often found that the majority of parishioners 
 in such parishes are opposed to that which is now known by the 
 name of choral serv'ice. In such cases, after enquiry made by the 
 Archdeacon, we might fairly leave the decision as to the kind of 
 service to be adopted to the bishop of the diocese. So long as the 
 bishops retain their liberties and do not form an episcopal bench 
 with the Archbishop at its head, my experience shows me that 
 the bishops will on these occasions generally come to the right 
 conclusion. 
 
 We are to remember that the bishops who really value their 
 spiritual authority are almost as much concerned in the Bill as they 
 who are regarded as the inferior clergy. 
 
 I should be sorry indeed to see swept away the episcopal juris- 
 diction in the first instance or an act establishing a law by which 
 any three people may disturb a parish. The bishops are judges, 
 and if their courts require to be reformed, most of them will unite 
 themselves with the Lower House of Convocation, in proposing 
 measures for that purpose. But let it be remembered that the 
 Church of Christ is an episcopal Church, and let us not be among 
 those who, retaining the episcopal name, by petty acts of legislation 
 would deprive the bishops of those powers they have received, not 
 from man, but from God. 
 
 QQ 2
 
 596 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 1868- 
 
 The setting up of a judge and robbing the Church to pay him 
 maybe consistent with the notion of a Dissenting legislature. The 
 clergy who devote their lives to parochial work are regarded as 
 sufficiently remunerated when their salaries amount to 200/. or 300/. 
 a year. The incomes of the bishops have been so reduced, that, 
 liberal as they are in their donations for Church purposes, they 
 cannot reach the munificence of their predecessors. Why, then, 
 are we to take 4,000/. a year out of the property of the Church, to 
 pay a lawyer who will receive h s appointment for political or party 
 services ? The Noble Lord, who presides as an Ecclesiastical 
 Commissioner, is a person respected by all who know him, but why 
 he should be paid out of the Church funds for doing what would be 
 better done by a Churchman, is a question which is often asked, 
 and will soon become one of considerable importance, for, we may 
 fairly ask, when will this system stop ? If we rob the Church to 
 make provision for a lawyer, we shall ere long find lay officers 
 appointed with salaries which would endow at least twenty new- 
 cures — for, depend upon it, 4,000/. is but a beginning. 
 
 I will not detain you further, and I do not write in a desponding 
 tone, for there is still a great man in the House of Commons, who 
 will, I am confident, watch over the interests of the Church which 
 he understands and loves. 
 
 To the Right Ho)imtrable IV. E. Gladstone — The Piirchas Case. 
 
 April 21, 1875. 
 
 . . . The chief blame in this case rests with Mr. Purchas. He 
 obtains notoriety by defying his superiors, and damages the Church 
 by refusing to defend his case when he is prosecuted. Judgment 
 was given in an undefended case. 
 
 I signed a protest against the Judgment, because for two and 
 twenty years, at Leeds, I had consecrated in the eastward position. 
 But I show that while claiming liberty for others, if the liberty is 
 granted by the Church, I consider the position of the celebrant a 
 thing indifferent, as we do not use it in this Cathedral. 
 
 My end is so fast approaching, that I do not enter into modern 
 controversies, except when the trumpet is sounded by you, and then 
 the old war-horse pricks up his ears. 
 
 To Lord Hathcrley — The coming End. 
 
 August 5, 1875. 
 I have been wonderfully struck by what you told me, of Pro- 
 fessor Airy's remark, that the wonders of Providence are to be seen
 
 -i875 Letters, 1 868-1 875. 597 
 
 in the microscope rather than in the telescope. When you find the 
 Divine Providence coming down to the minutest of things, you see 
 at once that insignificant as you may be, you cannot be passed 
 over. These thoughts crowd upon the mind, as the end draws 
 nigh, and oh ! my friend, what should we do without a Divine 
 Saviour. As one groans over the past, one looks with hope into 
 the future, and yet one feels that, love Him as we may, we do not 
 love Him as we ought to do. Pray for me, as I for you. 
 
 To Mrs. , on the Death of her Husband. 
 
 October 6, 1875.' 
 
 For your kind, affectionate, and pious letter I return you my 
 most cordial thanks. 
 
 For your dear husband I entertained respect, as well as affection, 
 and I am thankful that I was instrumental in giving you some years 
 of happiness. 
 
 I am old, seventy-eight, and very infirm. My contemporaries 
 are passing away, and I expect soon to receive my summons. 
 
 Pray for me. 
 
 ^ Written a fortnight before he died.
 
 598 Life of Walter Farqukar Hook. 
 
 LETTER FROM LORD HATHERLEY TO THE 
 EDITOR. 
 
 My dear Nephew, — I write in fulfilment of my promise to 
 supply you with a brief account of the school and college life of my 
 late dear friend, your father-in-law. Our friendship began in 1812, 
 soon after I had become a commoner at Winchester, and continued 
 to his death in 1875. It commenced almost at first sight ; though 
 nothing could be imagined more improbable than that our several 
 ages, dispositions, prejudices, and family training should have 
 allowed such a result. 
 
 In the first place when we met each other in 18 12 at Dr. Gabell's 
 school, which was associated with the ancient foundation of William 
 of Wykeham at Winchester by the style of ' Commoners,' ' Hook 
 Senior ' (for we knew no Christian names) was over fourteen years 
 of age, and I was not yet eleven ; he was tall, strong, and im- 
 petuous, I was a short, small, and ordinarily quiet child. He had 
 been imbued from childhood with High Church notions as they 
 were then understood, and with the genuine old Tory doctrines of 
 the political party then in power. I had been brought up in the 
 Church of England, but my political instruction had been in what 
 was then thought to be the radical school, and these impressions 
 had been strengthened by very constant reading, even in childhood, 
 of the ' Morning Chronicle ' and ' Cobbett's Register.' To this it 
 may be added, that the positions in life of our parents were wide 
 apart. His father was a beneficed clergyman, and a Canon or 
 Prebendary (as he was then called) of Winchester Cathedral, and 
 his career, through the influence of his father-in-law. Sir Walter 
 Farquhar, had been attended by the favour and personal notice of 
 the Prince Regent ; whilst my father was engaged in business in 
 the City of London, and was, not long after this time, honoured by 
 the personal confidence of the Princess of Wales, the Regent's ill- 
 used wife.
 
 Lord Hatherlcys Letter. 599 
 
 Besides these discrepancies, both 'Hook Senior' and his 
 brother Robert had brought with them from Tiverton School but 
 little acquaintance with Latin and Greek, and on the part of my 
 friend I may say but little disposition to acquire it ; whilst I found 
 from an early period perhaps too much pleasure in entering into 
 competition with others in these studies whenever the opportunity 
 was oftered me. 
 
 Notwithstanding the improbability of our forming a friendship 
 for life, it was by God's providence so ordered that from December 
 1812, or thereabouts, till October 1875, when he was taken from us, 
 we scarcely passed a fortnight without either meeting or hearing^ 
 from each other by letter. 
 
 Our friendship began in a most unsentimental manner. Hie 
 backwardness in study had occasioned him to be still in a low form 
 of the school, and therefore subject to fagging, and we first fore- 
 gathered at a large fire in Commoners' Hall, being engaged, under 
 the system of domestic slavery which then existed, in preparing the 
 breakfasts of our respective masters. This led to our interchanging 
 such thoughts upon the pursuits most agreeable to us as our young 
 minds could suggest, and I soon found that, though backward in 
 the studies of the school, he was veiy forward and vigorous in 
 mind. 
 
 He was far beyond, not only myself, but most other boys nearer 
 to his own age in the school in his acquaintance with English 
 Literature. He was especially well acquainted with the great 
 works of Shakspeare and Milton, and with other standard authors 
 of English poetry, whilst he had already begun, under his father's 
 roof, to read some of the then accepted authors in Divinity. At 
 that time, I think, the works of Archbishop Seeker, and Nelson's 
 ' Fasts and Festivals ' were most commonly referred to by him. As 
 a proof that I am not antedating, by defect of memory, his early 
 acquaintance with Shakspeare, I may mention that I have since his 
 death been allowed to possess myself of the veiy edition in which 
 we often read together, and which on the fly leaf bears his name 
 with the date 181 1. 
 
 In a few months after our return to school in January 1813 we 
 became inseparable. I was able to assist him in the ordinary 
 course of school study, which service he more than repaid by 
 forming my mind to an enjoyment of our English authors, and an 
 appreciation of .Shakspeare and Milton not common in early boy- 
 hood. Besides '■•■>ese, our favourite authors, we read together as
 
 6oo Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 
 
 years passed on any new works that made their mark. He was 
 plentifully supplied with these from home. Amongst others I re- 
 collect Walter Scott's successive poems, Maturin's ' Bertram' and 
 Milman's 'Fazio' : the latter, however, was, I think, sent to me by 
 Hook after he had gone to Oxford. But whilst thus assisting me 
 in the perusal of our English classics, he did me the yet greater 
 service of forming my mind to a genuine delight in reading for its 
 own sake, whereas the desire of excelling rather than a delight in 
 excellence had been my motive to exertion. And even now looking 
 back on our long course of life side by side, I own his moral 
 superiority in this respect. He was singularly free from the low 
 ambition of surpassing others, and though there may at one time 
 have been some degree of ■ self-indulgence in his avoiding the 
 labour of acquiring knowledge through the medium of languages 
 with which he was not familiar, yet even in his schooldays 
 he conscientiously encountered this labour when convinced that 
 it was his duty so to do, irrespective of any competition with 
 others. 
 
 I will not enter into details of the progress of our friendship 
 from year to year, but may briefly state the course of our school 
 life. I passed him in the school owing to his comparative indiffe- 
 rence to competition in the study of Latin and Greek ; but when I 
 had reached the sixth or highest form in the school, I strongly urged 
 on him the desirableness of an effort to reach that form in which 
 we should then pursue our studies together, and at the same time 
 he would have the advantage of being solely under the direct tuition 
 of Dr. Gabell, the Head Master. The regulation established by 
 Dr. Gabell facilitated such an exertion. Any boy who had once 
 attained a place in the form immediately below the sixth was offered 
 promotion at any time to the sixth form on condition that he passed 
 a voluntary examination in a book of Livy and one Greek play. I 
 had myself been thus promoted over the heads of several boys 
 otherwise before me in the school, and I succeeded in directing 
 Hook's mind to the same course. He had no great difficulty in 
 achieving our object. I went over with him the same book of Livy 
 and the same play, the Medea of Euripides, as I had myself taken 
 up for my examination, and we had the great pleasure of pursuing 
 exactly the same studies together for the residue of his school career, 
 that is till 1 817, or more than half a year. 
 
 Meanwhile our English readings had become more and more 
 frequent, especially during the summer evenings, when we used
 
 Lord Hat her ley s Letter. 60 1 
 
 to build ourselves an arbour for the summer in a thick hawthorn 
 tree, and taking our several editions of Shakspeare with us, read 
 out by turns the various parts of each play. Besides his pocket 
 edition, already referred to, he possessed one by Reed in twenty- 
 one volumes, the whole of which (notes and all) we swallowed if 
 we did not digest them. In the year 1814 (I think) he instituted 
 an ' Order of St. Shakspeare and St. Milton ; ' April 23, 
 Shakspeare's birthday and death-day, being our chief festival. Of 
 this Order we two were styled the Founders and Knights Grand 
 Masters, and to it were admitted a few of our common friends as 
 Knights Grand Crosses, amongst whom was the present Sir W. 
 Heathcote.* We did not omit to read prose authors, and the 
 * Spectator ' was a book in frequent use. 
 
 From what I have already stated you will readily understand 
 that he obtained but few school distinctions. A book prize 
 attended his successful effort to reach the sixth form /^r i-^:////;;;, 
 and he gained the silver medal for public speaking, being un- 
 doubtedly the best orator of the school. He was also at the end 
 of his career distinguished as our champion, and was selected to 
 fight any inhabitant of the town (including on one occasion some 
 soldiers of a regiment in the barracks) in case of infringement by 
 them of our privileges. 
 
 Dr. Johnson has said that a debt of gratitude is due to the 
 memory' of all schoolmasters by whom men who have distinguished 
 
 ' The following is the description of the Order copied from the blank page 
 in one of the volumes of the pocket Shakspeare : — 
 
 A List of the Knights of the Most Poetical Order of SS. Shakspeare 
 and Milton. 
 
 W. F. Hook, ) ^ 
 
 W P Wood 1 founders and Knights Grand Masters. 
 
 Henry Minchix, \ 
 
 •Edward Austen, 
 
 WILLIAM HEATHCOTE. f ^"'^'^'^ ^^""^"^ ^''°^^^=- 
 
 PHfLIP HEWETT, J 
 
 By His Majesty's Command. 
 W. F. Hook, 1 Secretaries of State. 
 
 W. P. Wood, 
 
 god save king 
 
 SH.AlKESPEARE. 
 
 • Better known as Austen I-«igh, a nephew of Miss Austen the novelist, 
 and author of a memoir of her.
 
 6o2 Life of Walter Farqukar Hook. 
 
 themselves, as did my friend, were trained ; and I cheerfully and 
 gratefully acknowledge the debt we both owed to Dr. Gabell as an 
 instructor. That, indeed, was the only title {infornuitor) that he 
 enjoyed as connected with the foundation : the Warden (at that 
 time Dr. Huntingford, Bishop of Hereford) Ifeing the chief governor 
 of Wykeham's College. But of ' Commoners ' Gabell was the 
 ' master,' and I always thought him very deficient in the qualifica- 
 tions necessary for that post. His chief deficiency was a total 
 distrust of the boys, which led him never to believe their state- 
 ments. It was this defect which (subsequently to Hook's leaving 
 the school) led to a rebellion. But as a teacher Dr. Gabell ex- 
 celled. He possessed the happy art of thoroughly searching out 
 every boy's ability and industry, by methods of his own, with which 
 I ought not to encumber your pages, and further he felt, and therefore 
 conveyed to generous and intelligent young minds, an enthusiastic 
 love of the best classical literature. Learning by heart formed a 
 prominent part of the teaching of the school, and this circumstance 
 probably in a great measure kept Hook back in his progress. His 
 memory was not accurate in details, while the amount of recitations 
 from Latin and Greek poets of which some boys were capable was 
 portentous. A noble lord is yet living ^ who committed to me- 
 mory the whole (I think) of Virgil's ^neid and several books of 
 Homer. Winchester has always been a hard working school. 
 Accuracy was insisted upon ; work was not slurred over, nor was 
 brilliancy considered to be any compensation for indolence. The 
 school has produced hard workers through life. The Arch- 
 bishopric of Canterbury and the Speakership of the House of 
 Commons have been each held once, and the Great Seal three 
 times, by Wykehamists within my memory, and I have sat in a 
 Cabinet where three out of sixteen members had been educated at 
 Winchester. 
 
 As boys we all took much interest in politics, though I think 
 out of 200 probably less than one-quarter were Whigs, and I was 
 almost a solitary Radical. Hook established a Parliament which 
 sat in the deserted Palace of the Bishop. I think that of its mem- 
 bers only Sir Alexander Malet and myself have survived. Our 
 debates were no doubt highly esteemed by ourselves : they were 
 perhaps none the worse for the absence of reporters, or even a 
 gallery. 
 
 I have not yet noticed the tie which more especially bound my 
 ' Lord Saye and Sele.
 
 Lord Hatherhy s Letter. 603 
 
 dear friend and myself together from boyhood to age. It so 
 happened that I became a prefect at the early age of fifteen. The 
 prefects were entrusted with the discipline and management of the 
 school. There were eight of them in Commoners presiding over 
 142 other boys, and two in each week were responsible for the 
 general order of the school. It had become almost a rule that 
 these eight boys should receive at stated times the Holy Commu- 
 nion. I had not been confirmed, and this led me to think very 
 seriously about the whole subject ; and first whether I ought, as it 
 were compulsorily, to take so serious a step at all, and secondly 
 whether I could properly do so before confirmation. This latter 
 point, however, was, shortly before the time for communicating, set 
 at rest by the Warden of the College, Bishop Huntingford, holding 
 a confirmation in the College Chapel. I submitted my anxieties 
 on this head to my friend, as I did all my other difficulties in 
 matters of religion. I need not dwell more on the subject. Suffice 
 it to say that he consulted his father and some others of the clergy 
 upon it, supplied me with books on the subject of Confirmation and 
 Holy Communion, instructed and encouraged me in every way ; 
 and thus my first Communion was the special cement of our life- 
 enduring friendship, and a foundation was laid on which, notwith- 
 standing ever>' difference of opinion in matters less grave, we could 
 rest as on a rock. 
 
 During our holidays we used to see each other occasionally 
 only. In the winters of 1815 and 1816 my father, having been 
 elected Lord Mayor for two successive years, resided at the 
 Mansion House. Hook, when in town, lived in Conduit Street at 
 the house of Sir Walter Farquhar, his grandfather. He contrived 
 a plan of our meeting for an hour or two each day in St. Paul's 
 Cathedral. At that time anyone could be admitted there on pay- 
 ment of two-pence, and was allowed to remain as long as he 
 pleased, and many a time did we pace the aisles together for 
 hours when the service was over. In the summer holidays, my 
 family usually resided at Little Strawberry Hill, Twickenham, and 
 at times Hook was in that neighbourhood at Roehampton, staying 
 with his uncle, Mr. Thomas, afterwards Sir Thomas, Farquhar. 
 
 The first letter of a series which continued without interruption 
 for nearly sixty years was written to me by Hook on December 
 29, 1816. It is dated from Winchester, where his father was then 
 residing as Prebendar)', and addressed to me at the Mansion 
 House. I copy a small part of it. He was still a school-boy, but
 
 6o4 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 
 
 intended (as ultimately was the case) to leave Winchester School 
 at the end of the long half-year terminating in July, 
 
 I went on Thursday to Southampton to see Mrs. Siddons, whom I heard 
 so much ridiculed here by two of her acquaintances that I scarcely expected to 
 be able to tolerate her ; but I found her most kind and pleasant. She said 
 she had known me when I was a child, and was happy to renew the ac- 
 quaintance. In the evening, after dinner, she gave me my choice of what she 
 should read to me, and I chose 'Macbeth,' which she read through, passing 
 over a few uninteresting scenes. She acted Macbeth quite as well as Lady 
 Macbeth, and of course surpassed Kean in every respect. Though she is 
 si.xty-tvvo yet she looked most beautiful when she was reading, and I can very 
 well fancy her once being ' with matchless beauty crowned.' But what I liked 
 most to hear, was Satan's speech to the Sun, in Milton, which she read most 
 charmingly : her voice and manner suits entirely with Milton. I took a long 
 walk the next morning with Miss Siddons, who is a very sensible, agreeable 
 girl, and, some people think, very handsome. Mrs. Siddons was very con- 
 descending, and in talking over several of Shakspeare's plays, showed a great 
 deal of taste, learning, and judgment. She took, however, the part of Lady 
 Macbeth, in which I could not quite agree with her, and her daughter helped 
 me to defend poor Macbeth, against whom Mrs. Siddons was rather spiteful. 
 . . . By-the-bye, I shall have free access to John Kemble's library, which you 
 know, according to Steeven's account, is the best in England for old books and 
 valuable and scarce editions, not of classics, but of old English authors. 
 
 At the beginning of February 1817 I received another letter 
 from him, of which I give a short extract in order to show the 
 passionate enthusiasm which his affection always evinced towards 
 me. It was poured forth in prose and verse, and from youth to 
 age, and I will only give this specimen of what you and all he loved 
 well know to have been his characteristic : the most unselfish, 
 ardent devotion to his friends. He refers to his returning to school 
 a week before I should be there, owing to his father leaving Win- 
 chester, to explain which it may be mentioned that the school was 
 open for the reception of the foundation boys who returned a week 
 before the commoners were obliged to do so. 
 
 ... I shall not be able to avoid going to Commoners on Sunday night, 
 and thus I shall spend a whole week without you ; you may well imagine how 
 miserable I shall be, for I could better spare you in any other place than that 
 in which every turn I take will bring you to my remembrance ; but stay as long 
 as you can, for you may be assured that I can have no greater pleasure than 
 knowing that you enjoy yourself ; and if you could, I would not wish you to 
 hurry back into Commoners on my account, as I do not reckon myself at aU 
 selfish, but I think and hope that I feel more pleasure in your happiness than
 
 Lord Hatherley s Letter. 605 
 
 in my own, and I only write this that you may take compassion, and whenever 
 you have a moment to spare and remember me, may just send me a line of 
 consolation, even if it is every day, and but a line. I write to you now because 
 I am very dull, too dull to read even our dear Shakspeare, and I want to com- 
 plain, and so pitch upon you to be the person to be plagued with hearing my 
 complaints. I had an offer of going to Oriel this instant, there being a sudden 
 vacancy, and not going back to Winchester, but I much prefer returning ; 
 indeed I should be wretched if I did not go back this half-year, for though 
 Oxford may have some greater comforts than Winchester, yet the enjoying 
 your company at the one and not at the other would make the one most 
 delightful, the other most uncomfortable, and though we shall separate at the 
 end of next half-year, the thought of not spending one more half-year with you 
 would have made me wretched. Gabell most strongly advised my staying, and 
 I am glad to stay. 
 
 When the end of the long half-year arrived, July 1817, we un- 
 derwent our first real parting, and very sad it was. We paced the 
 long galleries at the back of the bedrooms in Commoners for an 
 hour or two in great grief. In the holidays he met with some 
 slight accident, and I went from Twickenham to see him in London, 
 after which he wrote me a letter, of which I have copied a small 
 part to show the extreme warmth of his feelings in return for a very 
 slight service. 
 
 My most beloved Friend, — I cannot possibly wait an instant, without ex- 
 pressing to you my deep and heartfelt gratitude for your conduct towards me 
 during the last two days. Had you not before this had possession of my 
 heart, your late kindness would certainly have given you a just title to my 
 affection. Indeed I do not repent of my foolish action, since by that means I 
 enjoyed so very much of your society, and since owing to that I spent two of 
 the happiest days that I ever did spend. Again, my dearest Wood, let me 
 express my gratitude to you for foregoing the pleasures of your holidays, and 
 shutting yourself up in the room of a poor sick fellow. 
 
 I returned to Winchester in September 18 17, and in November 
 received a letter from him referring to a squib which he had sent 
 to the ' Sun ' newspaper. He had at all times much of the 
 exuberant humour of his Uncle Theodore, subdued as years went 
 on by the graver realities of his life, but always ready to break 
 forth when he was in the company of an intimate friend. I insert 
 the first portion only of this letter. 
 
 I have become an author already. On Sunday last I sent a squib to the 
 ' Sun ' newspaper, which it has published in yesterday's edition. The name of
 
 6o6 Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 
 
 it was 'The Meeting of Jacobins.' I will send you the paper if I can get one. 
 I ought not to send you a copy, as there is in it ' The Lord M — r and Jacobins 
 of the City of London. The Lord M — r returned thanks." Tell me directly 
 if you are sulky. I tell you honestly, I am not certain whether it was not an 
 interpolation of the ' Sun,' because it is not in my foul copy, and because they 
 have thought fit to insert a puff at the end of it in favour of their paper, but I 
 plainly tell you that I should have inserted it if I had thought of it, but I 
 rather think I did not. Not that I think your father a Jacobin precisely ; but 
 as I call Lord Grey, under the title of Lord Dapple, a Jacobin, and likewise 
 Mr. Brougham, you will not be angry. ... I shall cut you up some time or 
 -other. God bless you. I love you with all my heart and soul. 
 
 I spent the Christmas hoHdays of 1817 in Paris, whither my 
 father summoned me and my younger brother from Winchester. 
 Whilst there I received a letter from him dated Winchester, 
 December 30, a.n.a. 5, the latter form being an abbreviation for 
 ' Anno nostrse amicitias,' which he adopted to mark the date of our 
 friendship, begun in 1812. In this letter he affects to treat me, not 
 ver)' consistently, as a Jacobin and as a friend of Napoleon. The 
 following is a short extract : 
 
 I took it most kind in you, my beloved Wood, to write to me so soon after 
 your arrival, when you could so well have pleaded want of time and various 
 other excuses. I do nevertheless earnestly request you not to think that I shall 
 be offended if you do not write often, for it is my wish that you should see 
 everything, and as your stay is but short in Paris, I will wait patiently till you 
 leave it to hear of all the wonders to be seen there ; but you must not humbug 
 us untravelled folk, and you must not retiun as the monkey that had seen the 
 world, for let me tell you, Mr. Alderman, I will have none of your airs. Your 
 letter was as instructive as it was amusing, as replete with good advice as it was 
 with just observation. I was scarcely ever better pleassd with a letter even 
 from you, and all your letters must please your adoring friend. I see that 
 you did not sleep in the diligence, but had your eyes and ears open, and from 
 the beginning I augur well of your excursion. It will enlarge your ideas by 
 letting you have an insight into the ways and customs of foreign nations, and 
 make you, Mr. Jacobin, learn to respect, love, and reverence the sacred 
 establishment of our blessed constitution in Church and State. You seem to 
 have seen a great deal in a short time, and to have been struck, as everybody is, 
 with the magnitude and magnificence in which Royalty lives in France, and 
 the misery of the poorer orders. You will not, I conclude, wish for those 
 sumptuous palaces in England. Let our Prince have his ' Thatched Cottages,' 
 and be able to keep up the dignity of his state — we want no more. I would 
 rather see the Louvre and Tuileries in France than in England. With the 
 pictures perhaps you were at first dazzled, but I think your taste will soon 
 reject the false style of French artists, for I understand since the departure of 
 _your friend at St. Helena, most of the pictures are of the French school, which.
 
 Lord Hatherleys Letter. 607 
 
 in my humble opinion, is no more to be compared to the English, than I to 
 Hercules. We have undoubtedly more and better pictures in England, but in 
 a free state the sovereign cannot monopolise all the good things. Every 
 nobleman and almost every gentleman in England has at least two or three 
 pictures by first-rate artists. Not so in France, where I believe you will find 
 that almost every picture of worth belongs to the royal family. Were all the 
 first-rate pictures of the English, Italian, and Dutch schools in England to be 
 collected, I doubt not but that we should fill a room much longer than half a 
 mile. Your English indignation is justly roused by the plan of justice in 
 France, and your English heart naturally revolts at the idea of want of liberty 
 of the press ; but I think if you consider the present character of the French, 
 and the weak foundation of the French government, you will acknowledge 
 that France is not at the present time fit for Uberty of the press, which is 
 always so much open to abuse that it is even at times dangerous to our firmly 
 fixed government, and consequently would be replete with danger to the ill- 
 built fabric of the French Constitution. 
 
 In the next letter, dated from Whippingham January 4, 1818, 
 A.N.A. 6, he tells me that he is to go to Christ Church, Oxford, in 
 about a fortnight. There are some observations I feel impelled to 
 quote from this letter, owing to the happy direction which at this 
 early period it gave to the subsequent correspondence of a life. 
 
 May our affection, which is already gigantic, grow every year till it reaches 
 that heaven where it can never be made twain. Remember, my adored friend, 
 that the first and the most essential part of friendship is to mark the faults, and 
 then to love the virtues, of the object of our affection. Remember that none 
 but a friend can tell us our faults ; that it would be presumptuous and invidious 
 in anyone else so to do ; and, therefore, I put the marking of our faults before 
 the admiring of our virtues. But the seeing them is not enough ; they must 
 be told. No man can view his own errors ; they must be told to him, and 
 pointed out to him, before he repents. Bear in mind that when Cassius says, 
 ' a friendly eye would never see those faults, ' Brutus admirably rephes, ' Flat- 
 terers would not, though they be as huge as high Olympus,' thus drawing the 
 direct line and denominating him, who, by most men, would be called a friend, 
 to be, in many instances, nothing more than a flatterer. This I do not mean 
 to apply to the morals, habits, and customs, but even to the lowest and least 
 observed faults. When we were together such freedom we always exercised 
 without reserve ; therefore, in our letters let our remarks on one another's 
 train of thought, style of letter- writing, and action be free, open, and more 
 inclined to blame than to praise, for I mean to tell you honestly and truly 
 everything I do, everything I think, everything I feel. Amen. Thus ends my 
 sermon ; and if you are not asleep, I will now be a little merrier. 
 
 My correspondence with Hook after he left school was con- 
 stant. I missed him and his guidance only too much ; for a
 
 6o8 Life of Walter FarqiUiar Hook. 
 
 growing dissatisfaction with Gabell's mismanagement of the school, 
 especially his want of confidence in the boys, led to a rebellion in 
 May 1818, in which I took part. It is enough to say that although 
 I then thought, and still think, that grave grounds of complaint 
 existed, I have never ceased to regret the pain I gave to our Head 
 Master, with whom personally I was rather a favourite, and the 
 greater pain I must have given my parents. Happily no evil con- 
 sequences resulted from it to the school, nor indeed to my own 
 subsequent career. I was deservedly sent away from the school, 
 an opportunity being first offered me of saying that, owing to my 
 youth, I had been over-persuaded. This notion was not true in 
 fact, nor under any circumstances would it have been likely to 
 meet with my assent. But besides this, all the head boys had 
 signed a paper before the rebellion broke out, to the effect that what- 
 ever happened to one should happen to all. The Head Master 
 and second master in conclave called up the first and third boys 
 and expelled them, keeping me confined in a separate room till 
 this had been done ; but from the window of this room I saw and 
 conversed with these two boys, and then on being summoned to 
 judgment stated all the facts, and said that my course was clear. 
 I then went home, taking also my younger brother ^ with me, who 
 had signed the same paper. These statements will explain my 
 friend's next letter. 
 
 ... I am heartily sorry for the Rebellion. In the first moment I was so 
 pleased with it that I scarcely considered the merits or demerits of the case ; 
 but now, when I reflect upon the great kindness and affectionate care of 
 Gabell for the school, I cannot but feel sorry when I consider the injury it may 
 do him. But all this would not affect me in any serious manner, as your 
 banishment perhaps will. All my fears have been raised by Heathcote telling 
 me that Coplestone, the Provost of his college, says that he shall not receive 
 Porcher if he hears that he has been at all active in the Rebellion. Are you, 
 my most beloved Wood, sure of getting in at Cambridge ? Is there no doubt ? 
 Did you take an active part in the business yourself? Austen, who saw Ward, 
 tells me that you did. I hope you did not, but, my most dear William, think 
 not that I mean to upbraid you ; I should myself have done the selfsame thing, 
 but I should have repented of it afterwards most likely. I trust that by this 
 time your father has forgiven you. Send me word if he has or has not. 
 
 My younger brother was sent back to school, and before the end 
 of May I was travelling alone through France to Geneva. At Geneva 
 
 ' Mr. Western Wood, afterwards M.P. for the City of London.
 
 Lo7'd Hat her ley s Letter. 609 
 
 I remained, passing through the usual course of philosophy at the 
 * Auditoire,' for two years. My way was made smooth by the 
 presence of some near relatives at Geneva, who before my arrival 
 had made arrangements for my living en pension at M. Duvillard's, 
 the Professor of Belles Lettres. There were, at difterent times, 
 some six or seven people, English, German, and French, in the 
 same pension ; one of the Englishmen being an old Winchester 
 schoolfellow. I alone, however, followed the course of the Auditoire. 
 I wrote a few lines to Hook from Calais, and again from Geneva, 
 M'here I received my first letter from him, dated Christ Church, 
 May 24, 1 818, and during the two years of my residence at Genera 
 our correspondence never flagged. I will not, however, overload 
 this narrative by further extracts from his letters. Suffice it to say 
 that they indicate much divergence of his thoughts from the work 
 of the place, and contain constant expressions of regret at his 
 disappointing those who were interested in his distinction, and 
 who believed (as I ever had) in his powers of mind, if he could 
 once be brought to fix them earnestly upon his work. He wrote 
 once or twice a poem for the Newdigate prize, which he sent to 
 me for criticism, but with the exception of Divinity he read little 
 which could avail him from a University point of view. His ' set 
 of companions, though always young men of ability and worth, 
 were, owing to his college being Christ Church, men of higher 
 worldly position than himself, and did not encourage him in study. 
 In a letter dated March 6, 1819, he says : 'You asked me in your 
 last whether I study with anybody — no, nor ever will without I can 
 do so with you. You asked with whom I most associate. My 
 acquaintance here is not extensive, and I am not a bit more with 
 one person than another.' His college tutor was Dr. Vowler Short, 
 afterwards Bishop of St. Asaph, to whom he was much attached, 
 and of whom he always spoke with gratitude. 
 
 My letters interested him because we had many interesting 
 persons then living at Geneva, with whom I had such acquaintance 
 as a boy can have with men. Amongst our Professors were Dc 
 Candolle the botanist, De la Rive, Pictet, and Rossi, afterwards a 
 peer of France, and finally Prime Minister of Pius IX. in his days 
 of zeal for reform, in whose service he was assassinated. He came 
 to Geneva as a refugee from the despotic government of Pius VII., 
 which drove hbn from Bologna. Dumont, Sismondi, and the late 
 Due dc Broglic were also then residing at Geneva. 
 
 R R
 
 6io Life of Walter Farquhar Hook. 
 
 On July I, 1819, Hook wrote me a rapturous account of his 
 first pilgrimage to Stratford-on-Avon. 
 
 In May 1820, just as I was about to pass an examination for the 
 degree of ' Bachelor of Letters ' at Geneva, Oueen Caroline hap- 
 pened to pass through that town on her way to England. My 
 father was anxious that I should avail myself of an offer to travel 
 in her suite. We were to meet him and Lady Anne Hamilton on 
 the road. This I accordingly did, meeting them at Montbard, and 
 all of us proceeding to St. Omer, where we met Brougham, then the 
 Queen's Attorney General, and Lord Hutchinson. It was then 
 that the offer was made to the Queen to receive a large annuity, 
 on condition that she should not take the title of Queen, or attempt 
 to land in England. Her answer was her departure that same 
 evening from St. Omer to sleep on board an English packet, 
 whence she despatched a letter addressed to Louis XVI 1 1., stating 
 her desire to free him from her unwelcome presence on French soil, 
 though she had thought that some of the ordinary' tokens of respect 
 might have been paid to one whose brothers had perished on the 
 field in supporting the monarchy of France. I pass over, however, 
 this episode of my life, intensely interesting as it was at the time 
 to me ; believing, as I then did, and still do, that the wicked 
 charges against that persecuted woman were false. I only mention 
 the mode of my return to England because it occasioned some 
 trouble, as I afterwards learned, to my dear friend, whose family 
 were strong Tories, and had been personally favoured by George 
 IV. Hook, however, never wavered even for a moment in his 
 devotion to me ; his mother, also, was aware of his affection for 
 me, and she was uniformly kind in promoting it. 
 
 It so happened that I was laid up with ague, caught whilst 
 travelling by night through the marshes of St. Omer. I could not, 
 therefore, go to him, nor indeed did we meet till late in 1822 ; for 
 as soon as I had recovered from the ague I made a journey, lasting 
 from June to October, with persons employed in getting up the 
 case of Queen Caroline abroad, to whom I acted as a volunteer 
 interpreter for the Italian witnesses, until a regtilar interpreter 
 could be obtained. In one letter written to me just before I left 
 England he says : ' I forgot in my last to tell you that I called on 
 Gabell as I passed through Winchester, and after having laughed 
 at the likelihood of your becoming a real rebel, he said, " Remember 
 me, when you write, most particularly and kindly to him, and tell 
 him that he will always find a welcome in my house." He e\-
 
 Lord Hathejdey s Letter. 6 1 1 
 
 pressed the greatest regard for you. When 1 was there I met a 
 young lady who asked me much about our Oxford Commemoration, 
 and I told her how dehghted I was to hear the simukaneous hurrah, 
 the magnificent and glorious burst of enthusiasm, the moment the 
 aiame of Robert Southey was mentioned : that it was also not a little 
 pleasant to see one poet applauding another — Milman cheering his 
 brother bard Southey, and quoth Dr. Gabell, " you have the honour 
 of speaking to Miss Milman."' 
 
 I met Gabell myself not long afterwards, when he was most kind 
 to me, and I felt all my penitence for the rebellion renewed. I 
 had to cut short my Italian journey just as I was about to leave 
 Rome for Naples and Sicily. The horses were at the door when 
 I received a letter from my father, enclosing one from the Rev. G. 
 Macfarlane, Fellow of Trinity, who was to be my private tutor at 
 Cambridge, infoiTning me that if I were not in England by October 
 21, I should, by the University regulations e.xisting at that time, 
 lose a whole year. My friend was now working hard for his 
 degree, and I had to set to work at my Cambridge studies in 
 Trinity. We did not, therefore, meet till late the next year. 
 
 In 1 82 1 he came to town for the coronation of George IV. ; but 
 we did not meet then, as no doubt there was a difficulty in our doing 
 so either at his home or mine, the minds of our relatives being 
 so differently affected as regarded the unhappy position of the 
 queen. 
 
 It was not till the summer of 1822, nine months after his ordina- 
 tion, that Hook and I again met. I was then about to make a 
 short visit at Southampton, and met him by arrangement at 
 Winchester, having a delightful walk with him for a few hours over 
 all our old haunts, especially the meadows in which we used to 
 read. I will not attempt to describe the joy of this happy meeting, 
 at which we agreed that if it were possible we would contrive some 
 meeting for a longer period in the next year. Unhappily for the 
 remainder of my vacation in this year, I suffered from disordered 
 health, chiefly in the form of a most troublesome giddiness, which 
 was afterwards yet more aggravated, and threw me very much back 
 in my preparation for my degree. Our scheme consequently, which 
 included a visit from him to me at Cambridge, had to be postponed 
 till the next year. I had numerous letters of the kindest sympathy 
 from him during the whole of my illness. In one of these, dated 
 .September 17, 1822, he says, ' I have read lately nothing — yet I 
 have read the novel of " Evelina," and am trudj^ing through "Sir 
 
 K R 2
 
 6 1 2 Life of Walter FarqnJiar Hook. 
 
 Charles Grandison." I mention this because about the same time 
 1 had often talked of Richardson's novels with Macaulay (then an 
 undergraduate), who, when I said that I had got through ' Sir C. 
 Grandison ' after seven attempts, replied, ' You will not enjoy it till 
 you have read it seven times through.' 
 
 In a letter dated June 1822, after some remarks on Scott's last 
 novel, the ' Fortunes of Nigel,' and upon a novel by Lockhart, 
 called ' Adam Blair,' he proceeds : ' By the way, I must not omit 
 to recommend to you a book which has entertained me verj' much, 
 entitled " Pen Owen." It is a new novel, and what pleases me is 
 that it is quite void of that canting and whining sentimentality and 
 that sometimes blasphemous saintism and methodism with which 
 so many modern novels abound.' 
 
 Several years after this I discovered that his father was the 
 author of the book. I had often laughed at his vehement ' John 
 Bullism,' which adhered to him through life, and in reference to 
 this he says, writing in December 1822, ' I am not quite so national 
 as you think, and if ever you give me a little more of your much 
 desired society, and talk of foreigners as you did and can do, I will 
 promise to be an apt disciple to liberality : to yotir liberality, not to 
 Leigh Hunt's.' (Leigh Hunt was at that time the editor of ' The 
 Liberal.') 
 
 In January 1823 he writes, after reading Moore's ' Loves of the 
 Angels,' and the first act of Byron's ' Heaven and Earth' in ' The 
 Liberal ' : 
 
 I think it (Moore's Poem) a complete failm-e, and in parts quite wicked, 
 although I will do him the justice to say that I believe he did not intend to be 
 so. I am very much averse to poets coming into contact with the Almighty, or 
 straying into the infinitely incomprehensible. He is pleased to represent the 
 angels of God, the participators of infinite happiness, as finding heaven dull, 
 and descending upon earth to gratify, not their love, but their lust. I am in- 
 dignant and sorry. The fact is that even the sublime and heavenly Milton 
 soared too high, and in his third book he offends me much by introducing the 
 reader to the Almighty Himself. But if Milton did not succeed in the regions 
 of heaven, what modern poetaster can hope for success? Lord Byron's 
 ' Heaven and Earth ' in the ' Liberal ' is in parts extremely fine, and throws 
 Tommy Moore quite into the background. There are parts which are almost 
 sublime. . . . But when I praise 'Heaven and Earth' I may be influenced by 
 having heard it most beautifully read by my uncle Theodore. 
 
 In May 1823 he wrote a letter, from which I extract the following 
 passage. The playful ideas abput our future careers which it con- 
 tains were in some respects singularly in accordance, in others
 
 Lord Hatheideys Letter. 6i 
 
 J) 
 
 as singularly contrasted with the actual facts of our subsequent 
 lives. 
 
 I am, at present, in tlie most melancholy mood — distressingly so. Some 
 evil must be impending, or is it the sudden return of winter after the summer- 
 like autumn we have spent? I feel that lonehness of heart and mind of which 
 I do often complain. I think after all I must get me a wife ; but where shall 
 I find one to suit my taste and disposition, and if I do find such a one, will she 
 not be worse than a fool if she accepts such a wretch as I am ? How delight- 
 ful would it be to have a small cottage in some sequestered shadv \'aney, with 
 a wife who could understand all the sentiments of my heart, and enter into all 
 my feelings as you used to do : to have her there equally the friend of my 
 friend, wiio w^ould find in my house a pleasant retreat from the toils and worries 
 of a lawyer's life. I could fancy you nursing, with almost parental fondness, 
 my second boy, William Wood Hook, taking a delight in his improvement, and 
 iirging him by presents in the career of learning, while I should hold you up to 
 him as the model of perfection in virtue and true religion as well as learning. 
 Then we should laugh heartily at all your bachelor peculiarities, and fit up one 
 room peculiaiiy for you, just according to your taste and ideas of comfort. 
 N.B. When we pay a visit to London we shall always refuse your offer of a 
 room in 3'om- house in the most delicate terms we can, dreading the damp beds, 
 and unaired dungeony rooms of a bachelor's house — but we shall be very happy 
 to dine with you. At length a change will take place ; and we shall feel a 
 little awe at your ajjproaching visit, and mount wax candles instead of muttons 
 in our candlesticks, and talk big among our neighbours ; ' because w-hy ? why 
 because ' my Lord Chancellor, the Earl of Lignum, and Baron Billy-squad is 
 coming to pay us a visit — and we shall find you just the same good, dear, 
 affectionate, unaffected creature as before ; and your lordship will take my son, 
 William Wood Hook, under your lordship's more immediate protection, and 
 will give my eldest boy a living, and offer to get me a Deanery or a Bishopric, 
 which I of course shall refuse ; and then I shall be proud of having such a friend, 
 and I shall make a memoir of your life, and, a la Jimmy Boswell, take minutes 
 of your conversation, and treasure )'our ban mots, and make selections from your 
 letters, and leave it to my son to be published when we are both dead and 
 gone ; and then — and then will be an end of our eventful history. 
 
 He was indeed most blessed in the wife to whom si.\ years later 
 he was united, but he did not pass any portion of his married life 
 amid rural or sequestered scenes. I soon followed his example as 
 regarded marriage, and fulfilled his anticipations by presenting my 
 godchild (not, however, bearing my naine), his second son, but the 
 eldest surviving, to the first benefice which became vacant after my 
 appointment to the office of Lord Chancellor. Alas ! after a short 
 life of usefulness, he was but a little while since removed from this 
 life, but reunited, as I hope, to his loving and beloved parents. 
 
 I answered liis letter with some corresponding wish common
 
 6 r 4 Life of Walter Farqtihai' Hook. 
 
 enough to those who have a laborious life before them, that we 
 might live in 'some secluded abode, blessed with our own society 
 and that of our wives and children ; ' for in a letter dated June 4, 
 
 1823, he quotes this passage and says, ' I do assure you that with 
 the addition of health I should think this dream of yours, if fulfilled, 
 would be happiness complete. Let us labour some twenty years 
 hence to bring it about. But alas ! twenty years ! how awful is it to 
 think of the change which may take place between this and then ! 
 To one or both of us Time will perhaps — nay, will probably be 
 changed into eternity ; or, if permitted to linger yet longer in this 
 world of miseiy and turmoil, our hopes, our wishes, our ideas may 
 suiter a dismal change : a dismal one, I say because few persons 
 are bettered by contact with this filthy world. Well, my dearest 
 friend, let us pray for the blessing of the Almighty, and may He 
 grant what I hope and think may really be the case, that our 
 friendship may never, never end.' 
 
 After the six years of friendship during the remainder of our 
 unmarried life which succeeded this letter, we lived to thank God 
 for forty-five years of uninterrupted friendship between ourselves, 
 our wives, and his children — a union broken only by the sad re- 
 moval of his wife four years before his own decease. But such 
 retirement as I had imagined was not resei-ved for us : once only 
 did I again, some years after we were both married, refer to the pos- 
 sibility of it, and I was struck with his reply, ' When you have no 
 more work to do you will die.' A sense of the privilege of working 
 for his heavenly Master was never absent from his mind. It over- 
 came his strong bias to literary self-indulgence, the strongest 
 temptation that can be offered to men of vigorous powers of thought. 
 
 In Januaiy 1824 I took my degree, and in October 1825 I 
 obtained a Fellowship at Trinity ; but as I was reading for the bar 
 in the chambers of an equity draughtsman throughout the year 
 
 1824, whilst Hook was occupied in his clerical duty as his father's 
 curate at Whippingham, we seldom met, but our correspondence 
 was constant. When his father was made Dean of Worcester in 
 1825 my friend frequently resided at the Deaneiy, but early in the 
 year 1828 his father was unexpectedly seized with a fatal illness and 
 died at Worcester, aged fifty-six. Writing in February 1828, soon 
 after this event. Hook says : ' Our circumstances are at present 
 not the most brilliant, but I am philosophical enough not to care 
 about that. Much interest was used with the Lord Chancellor 
 (Lyndhurst) to procure for me my dear father's living of Stone,
 
 Lord Hatherley s Letter. 6 1 
 
 worth about 800/., which had been taken in exchange for 
 Whippingham ; but his lordship merely sent me a very kind letter, 
 promising future patronage and offering me a living (which proves 
 not to be vacant) of 300/. a year. He was an old friend and school- 
 fellow of my father.' In fact, my friend's family was but ill provided 
 for. His younger brother was placed in a way to be provided for 
 in Herries and Farquhar's bank, but his mother and a sister much 
 younger than his brother were left with himself dependent on a verv 
 slender fortune. 
 
 In the summer of 1828 his mother took for a time a small house 
 at Leamington, whither he accompanied her and his sister for a short 
 holiday, and here I paid them a visit. He preached a sermon at 
 Leamington which attracted the attention of Dr. Jebb, the Bishop 
 of Limerick, who was then staying there on account of his health. 
 Bishop Jebb asked him at once to visit him, and they had much 
 happy intercourse, their acquaintance speedily ripening into friend- 
 ship. He was greatly pleased with this occurrence, having much 
 revered the character of the Bishop, and being in a manner almost 
 acquainted with him by perusal of the well-known ' Correspondence ' 
 between him and Mr. Alexander Knox. Several of the letters that 
 passed between Hook and the Bishop have been printed in the ' Life 
 of Bishop Jebb,' by his chaplain, the late Rev. Charles Forster. 
 
 During my stay at Leamington the benefice of Holy Trinity at 
 Coventry became vacant. This was a benefice in the gift of the 
 Lord Chancellor, and on talking over his letter before referred to, we 
 resolved to go over to Coventry' to make enquiry about the nature 
 and special character of the duties that would be required of an 
 incumbent of that parish. The result was that Hook applied to the 
 Lord Chancellor, and on October 3, 1828, he wrote to me, ' I have 
 just heard from the Chancellor. He has, in the most kind and 
 flattering manner, conferred upon me the Coventry living. I have 
 no time at this agitating moment for more than most earnestly 
 to request your prayers.' 
 
 We had both been somewhat misled in supposing the income 
 of the benefice to be 500/. a year, but 1 do not think that the facts, 
 if known, would have altered Hook's wish to undertake the work, 
 for he could not but be conscious that he had powers of usefulness 
 which waited but the opportunity for development. 
 
 On November 29, 1828, he wrote to me to mention the error 
 about the income of the living ; not with any great amount of dis- 
 appointment, but in that easy temper with which he always took
 
 6i6 Life of Walter FarqiLhar Hook. 
 
 matters of mere worldly consideration. ' The living,' he writes, 
 ' is only 360/., and there is no house. This is a bore on two 
 accounts. First, I cannot do all the good in my parish that I 
 could wish with so small an income : and secondly, I cannot 
 lnan■)^' 
 
 On February 11, 1829, he slept for the iirst time in his parish, 
 and wrote me a letter, from which 1 transcribe the following 
 passage : 
 
 I write to you at night just before I sleep for the first time in my parish. 
 Think of the overpowermg sensations of thus entering upon a new sphere, 
 where the good that I 7nay be the instrument of doing is great, but where the 
 mischief of which I may be the cause is incalculably greater. I have been 
 rash and presumptuous in seeking this situation, for which, unless I am 
 strengthened from above, I am utterly unfit. Think of this, and think of poor 
 me when you are praying. You know not half my weakness ; you Icnow not 
 how much I stand in need of the renovating, the assisting grace of God. There 
 is a communion of saints, and one Christian benefits in the prayers of another. 
 It is delightful to reflect on this : it is delightful to think that we may, in some 
 way or other to us unknown, contribute to the welfare of our friends by our 
 prayers — that there is unseen fellowship among true Christians. May the God 
 of heaven, for His blessed Son's sake, shower down upon you, my most dear 
 friend, every blessing, both temporal and spiritual ; and now, while I am 
 praying for strength, now when I am incurring these awful responsibilities, let 
 your prayers be united with mine. Prfiy for me and my flock, that I may be 
 able to do my duty and they theirs. 
 
 Scarcely more than a month after this I received a letter from 
 him dated March 11, 1829, full of joy, announcing his engagement 
 to your dear mother-in-law, the commencement of happiness which 
 was never interrupted save by her death ; and in the following 
 August I was enabled to mention my engagement to her with 
 whom I have enjoyed up to the present hour every blessing that a 
 union, unclouded by aught but that which may at times have over- 
 shadowed us from without, could bestow. It pleased God that the 
 marriages thus formed increased our friendship, and more than 
 doubled its brightness by the no less warm attachment of those 
 who had succeeded to the first place in our affections. And here I 
 fitly break off the narrative of our youth, leaving to you the exposi- 
 tion of his later years ; and only making, in conclusion, a few re- 
 marks upon the salient points of his character and career. 
 
 There was in him a rare coinbination of genius in devising, and 
 industry in carrying into effect, schemes for the full development 
 of the power of the Church ; first, in evangelising those large
 
 Lord Hatkerkys Letter. 6 1 7 
 
 "masses of our population whose hearts so few had been able to 
 reach, and then in building up their faith upon a firm foundation. 
 His special inspiration in this great work was, as we who knew him 
 best believed, to be found in the unbounded sympathy of his 
 Christian love, first, towards his Saviour, and through Him to all 
 for whom that Saviour died. He was thus delivered from narrow 
 exclusiveness on the one hand, and on the other from an unreal, 
 though apparent, breadth of fellowship with any save those who 
 were, Rke himself, devoted to his Master's cause. For the one 
 great characteristic of his course was in all things reality. Hence 
 in more than one instance he gave support to men from whom, in 
 many serious respects, he differed, if only convinced of their 
 Christian earnestness. I remember especially the period when 
 Mr. Newman published his celebrated Tract XC. After having 
 received a letter from Hook expressing his great regret at the 
 publication, and his disapproval of its tone, I was surprised by 
 another letter consequent on the part taken by the Oxford autho- 
 rities against the author, in which he says, ' I have nailed my 
 <:olours to the mast, and intend to stand by Newman.' His firm 
 adherence, however, to his own principles became sO well kno\\ n 
 after a short experience of his parochial ministrations in Coventry 
 and Leeds, that he found ardent helpers ready to support him in 
 any work which he undertook. Hence the extraordinary results of 
 his ministry in increased churches and schools. I remember going 
 with him one evening to a gathering of 600 Sunday-school teachers 
 Avho had 12,000 pupils under them. But this energy of feeling, if 
 confined to sympathy only, would have done but little. His indus- 
 try was unparalleled. He rose before five o'clock, and was at his 
 literary work from six to nine, and after his breakfast at the latter 
 hour he devoted his whole time to his parish, morning and evening, 
 with the exception of a Saturday evening's holiday. He was bold 
 and fearless to a degree which is rarely experienced in one who 
 was also tender and loving as a woman. He was keen in disceni- 
 ing and persevering in upholding the true interests of the great 
 Anglican branch of the Church Catholic, now extended over the 
 larger portion of the globe. Whatever doubts might be suggested 
 as to the expediency of Bishop Luscombe's appointment, in which 
 he took a leading part, it was the beginning of our largely de- 
 \ eloped colonial and foreign episcopate. For the Church in the 
 great borough of Leeds he acquired a position which it had never 
 before attained. On all public occasions, such as the opening of
 
 6 1 8 Life of Walter Farqtihar Hook. 
 
 the new Town Hall by her Majesty, and the like, he and the other 
 clergy, mainly through his influence, were to be found occupying a 
 prominent official position. His influence was built up on a solid 
 basis of Church principle, and was felt to extend to many of the 
 neighbouring industrial centres of our manufacturing districts. To 
 the present day ' T' ould Vicar and t' wife ' are household words 
 among the old inhabitants of the great parish of Leeds. 
 
 He foresaw the development that education must receive in a 
 free country, and he was one of the earliest 1 ^ secure for the' 
 Cliurch her true position in forwarding that great work, not by the 
 exclusion of others from the field of labour, but by her own superior 
 activity. He was intolerant only of pretension and indolence, and 
 in the midst of indefatigable labours he had no leisure for petty 
 ambitions. The scanty portion of leisure that public duty permitted 
 him to enjoy was devoted to his home, and that devotion was re- 
 quited by the unbounded affection of his happy household.
 
 INDEX- 
 
 ACT 
 A CTS of Parlinment, the Church Build- 
 ■^ ^ ing, 103 ; the Leeds Vicarage, 380- 
 
 384 
 Addison, remarks on, 33, 38 
 Agricultural distress in England, 104 
 Alexander, Michael Solomon, consecrated 
 
 ] lishop of Jerusalem, 337 
 America, Dr. Hook requested to visit, 500 
 American Church, Dr. Hook's interest in, 
 
 53. 73 ; Dr. Seabury first Bishop of, 71 ; 
 
 correspondence about between Dr. 
 
 Hook, Mr. Newman, and Dr. Pusey, 
 
 138 ; reference to, 178 
 Angels, remarks on, 155 
 Anson, the Rev. G., his connexion with 
 
 St. Saviour's, Leeds, 39S 
 Apostolical Succession, remarks on the, 
 
 307. 308 
 Appeal, remarks on the final court of, 
 
 588 
 Archbishops of Canterbury, Dr. Hook 
 
 begins to write the lives of, 523 
 Aristocracy, difficulties in the education 
 
 of, 502 
 Arnold, Dr., his scheme of Church Re- 
 form, 106, 107 
 Ashley, Lord, his speech on National 
 
 Education, 346 
 Athanasian Creed, tract on, by Dr. Hook, 
 
 282 
 Austen, Miss, the novelist, remarks on, 42, 
 
 330. 590 
 
 ■pAGOT, Dr., Bishop of 0.\ford, his 
 ^ charge respecting the Tracts for the 
 
 'limes, 257 '• h's letter to Dr. Hook, 258 ; 
 
 to Mr. Newman, 316 
 BaiJttsm, Lay, remarks on, 187 
 IJarry, Dr., made Head Master of Leeds 
 
 BRO 
 
 Grammar School, 474 ; reads address to 
 
 Dr. Hook, 517 
 Bellairs, Rev. H. W., his sermon on Dr. 
 
 Hook, 209 ; his account of hurricane at 
 
 Leeds, 259 ; letter to, 367 
 Berkeley, Bishop, referred to, 100 : re- 
 marks on his philosophy, 170 
 Beverley, a visit to, described, 306 
 Bible Society, Dr. Hook remonstrates 
 
 with Bishop Ryder for supporting, 130 ; 
 
 mischief of, 145 
 Bickersteth, Dr., appointed to See of 
 
 Ripon, 485 ; referred to, 474, 486 
 Bingham referred to, 100 
 Birmingham, Mr. Hook lecturer at St. 
 
 Philip's in, 86 ; work in, 87-90 ; farewell 
 
 sermon at, 114 
 Bishoprics, a plan for appointing to, 428, 
 
 483 
 Bishops, their true position in the Church 
 
 defined, 267-272 
 Bishops-Suffragan, advantages of, 177 
 Blomfield, Dr., Bishop of London, men- 
 tioned, 102, 103, 439 ; Dr. Hook visits, 
 
 145 ; letter from on Tract XC, 316; 
 
 favourable to Jerusalem Bishopric, 337 ; 
 
 his charge, 390 
 Bonaparte, Napoleon, Dr. Hook's aversioQ 
 
 to, II, 70 ; remarks on, 167 
 Borromeo, St. Charles, reference to, 448 
 Brewster, remarks on his life of Newton, 
 
 168 
 ' British Critic,' Mr. Newman ceases to 
 
 edit the, 341 ; tone of writers in, 341-342 
 ' British Magazine ' started, 107 ; Dr. 
 
 Hook's letter in on the Eucharist, 276 
 Brougham, Lord, Dr. Hook's account of, 
 
 485 
 Brown, Scotch philosopher, remarks on, 
 
 167
 
 620 
 
 Index. 
 
 ULJN 
 Biinsen, Mr., mentioned, 336 
 JJusiiiess, advice to a man of, 76 
 liutler, Bishop, referred to, 100, 181 
 
 (^ALVINISM, mischief of, 164 
 
 Canning, Mr., mentioned, 2, 32 
 Castlereagh, Lord, mentioned, 11, 35, 34 
 •Catechising, remarks on, 191, 283, 285, 
 
 286, 349, 374 
 Catholics compared with Protestants, 358- 
 
 360 
 Chalmers, Dr., remarks on, 59 
 Cliandler, Dean, his bequest to Chichester 
 
 Cathedral, 521 
 Chapel Royal, Dr. Hook's first sermon in, 
 
 146 
 Chartists elected Churchwardens at Leeds, 
 
 350, 352 
 ('hesterfield. Lord, remarks on, 33 
 Chichester, Deanery of, offered to Dr. 
 Hook, 478, 487 ; his first visit to, 515 ; 
 settles in, 521 ; plans for improving 
 Cathedral in, 522 ; fall of Cathedral 
 spire, 525, 531, 532 ; plans for rebuild- 
 ing spire, 532, 533 ; Cathedral of, re- 
 opened, 552 ; memorial to Dr. Hook in, 
 568 
 Childhood, reminiscences of, 299, 300 
 Cholera, outbreak of, in Leeds, 435 
 Church, state of the English, sketched, 
 
 98-104, 438 
 Church Building Act, 103 
 Church rate meeting at Leeds described, 
 
 224, 225 
 Churchwardens, election of, in Leeds, 223, 
 350 ; opposition of to the Vicar, 224, 
 275 ; letters of Dr. Hook to, 280, 281, 
 351 
 Coalition Cabinet, remarks on the, 457 
 Cobden, Mr., his school scheme, 489, 490 
 Communicants, number of at Leeds, 233 
 Communion, holy, see Eucharist 
 Confession, Dr. Hook's sermon on, 411 ; 
 
 letters on, 491, 493 
 Confirmations in Leeds, 233, 282 
 Consolation, inefBcacy of books of, 369 
 Consort, death of the Prince, 534, 535 
 Controversy to be avoided, 301 
 Conversion, remarks on gradual and 
 
 sudden, 500 
 Convocation, suppression of, loi ; remarks 
 
 on, 178, 497 
 Coronation of Queen Victoria, 294 
 Coventrj% living of Holy Trinity in given 
 to Dr. Hook, 91 ; distress in, 105 ; Dr. 
 Hook's work in, 119-129 ; his love for, 
 181 ; te.stimony from the clergj' of. 200 ; 
 lasting effect of Dr. Hook's work in. 
 
 EST 
 
 20S ; address from parishioners of, 212; 
 
 last sermon in, ib. ; address from, on his 
 
 appointment to Chichester, 518 
 Cowes, East, Dr. Hook's work in, 45, 46 
 Cranmer, remarks on the character of, 
 ^ 582, 584. 585, 589 
 Curates of Parish Church, Leeds, 475. 476, 
 
 503 
 Cyprian, St., quoted, 96 
 
 ■r)EANERIES offered to Dr. Hook by 
 Mr. Gladstone, 561, 564 
 
 Derby, Lord, offers Dr. Hook Deanery of 
 Chichester, 478, 487 
 
 Dispensary founded in Coventry by Dr. 
 Hook, 125, 149 
 
 Dissent, progress of in large towns, 103 ; 
 attitude of towards the Church, 104 ; 
 Dr. Hook's method of treating, ib. 
 
 Dissenters, opposition of, 139, 148, 151 ; 
 union with impossible, 144 ; proper atti- 
 tude towards, 171, iSg, 190, 295, 301, 
 591 ; schisms amongst to be regretted, 
 188 ; their part in national education, 
 490 ; Dr. Hook's friendliness with, 475, 
 487 
 
 Dissenting ministers, character of, 172 ; 
 remarks of one on Dr. Hook, 496 
 
 Doane, Dr., Bishop of New Jersey, 233 ; 
 ordains Dr. Wolff, 297 ; preaches at 
 consecration of Leeds Parish Church, 
 J33 ; his reminiscences of Dr. Hook, 349 
 
 "P ARLY rising Dr. Hook's habit of, 409, 
 
 -^ 473> 580 
 
 Ecclesiastical Titles Bill, futility of, 434 ; 
 Dr. Hook's remarks on, 455 
 
 Edinburgh, Dr. Hook visits, 57 ; lectures 
 in, 487 
 
 Education, board of, established in Leeds, 
 267 
 
 Education, National, speech on by Dr. 
 Hook at Leeds, 248, 249; progress of, 
 260, 261 ; Dr. Hook's scheme of, 262- 
 267 ; Government measure for, 345 ; Dr. 
 Hook's letter to Mr. Gladstone on, 346- 
 348 ; to the Bishop of St. David's on, 
 403-406 ; legislation for, 407, 408 ; letter 
 of Dr. Hook to Bishop of Norwich on, 
 423 
 
 Election, remarks on, 155 
 
 Encouragement, importance of in preach- 
 ing, 165 
 
 Erasmus, remarks on, 582 
 
 ' Essays and Reviews,' remarks on ^vriters 
 of the, 534 
 
 Established Church, advantages and dis- 
 advantages of an, 109-IU, 152, 157, 172- 
 174, 409
 
 Index. 
 
 021 
 
 EUC 
 
 Eucharist, the Holy, letters of Dr. Hook 's 
 on, 276-280, 364, 365 : Dr. Pusey's 
 sermon on, 342 ; the chief means of con- 
 solation, 370-372 
 
 Evangelicals, the defects in their teaching, 
 99 ; opposition of to Dr. Hook, 104, 139, 
 140, 202, 203, 213, 217, 397, 402 ; com- 
 pared with the Tractarians, 358 ; with 
 ■ Catholic Churchmen, 359, 360 
 
 Eydon, Dr. Hook's fondness for, 514 
 
 pARQUHAR, Miss Eliza, anecdotes 
 
 of, 43, 44 
 Farquhar, Sir Thomas, uncle of Dr. Hook, 
 
 91 
 Farquhar, Sir Walter, grandfather of Dr. 
 
 Hook, I ; letter from, 8 ; wishes his 
 
 grandson to be a lawyer, 14, 38 
 Foreigners, Dr. Hook's aversion to, 11, 
 
 141 
 Fox, Charles James, 11, 32 
 Freeman, Mr. E. A., letters to, 543, 546, 
 
 551. 552j 582, 588. 589 
 Friday, on the observance of as a Fast, 
 
 367 
 Froude, Mr. Richard Hurrell, his part in 
 
 the Tractarian movement, 107, 108 ; 
 
 errors of, iii; attack on, 256; Dr. 
 
 Hook's criticism of, 257 
 
 n ABELL, Dr., Head Master of Win- 
 
 ^^ Chester, 12, 13 ; his merits and de- 
 fects, 35, 143, 601, 602; his criticism on 
 a sermon, 87 
 
 Gardener, Dr., Rector of St. Philip's Bir- 
 minghajn, mentioned, 86, 87, 90 
 
 George IV. mentioned, 11, 13, 24, 25, 32; 
 remarks on his character, 142 
 
 Gibson, Bishop, referred to, loo 
 
 Gladstone, Mr. W. E., Dr. Hook's ad- 
 miration for, 250, 459 ; letters to, 285, 347, 
 384, 414, 421, 427, 455, 456, 596; letters 
 from, 392, 421 ; opposes condemnation of 
 Mr. Ward, 393 ; opposes Ecclesiastical 
 Titles Bill, 454 ; takes office in Coali- 
 tion Cabinet, 457 ; remarks on, 559 ; 
 offers Dr. Hook Deanery of Rochester, 
 561 ; of Canterbury, ib. ; of St. Paul's, 
 564 ; of Winchester, zV'. 
 
 Cleig, Bishop, mentioned, 58, 59 
 
 TJALL, Mr. Henry, Senior Trustee of 
 
 ^ "^ Vicarage of Leeds, 194, 207, 208 ; 
 letter to from Dr. Hook on resigning 
 Leeds, 512 
 
 Hall, Mr. Robert, a trustee of the Vicarage 
 of Leeds, 194 ; visits Coventry, iq6, 
 Z03 ; letter from, 226 ; death and cha- 
 racter of, 512 
 
 Hamilton, Walter Ker, rcninrks on Dr. 
 Hook's sermons, 134 
 
 HOO 
 Harcourt, Vernon, Archbishop of York, 
 
 323. 325. 330 
 Hatherley, Lord, see Wood, William Page 
 ' Hear the Church,' Dr. Hook's sermon at 
 
 Chapel Royal, 251 
 Hertingfordburj-, Dr. Hook's father rec- 
 tor of, 3 ; Dr. Hook's attachment to, 3, 
 155, 160 
 Hobart, Bishop of New York, his opinion 
 of Bishop Jolly, 54 : remarks on English 
 Clergy, loi ; visits England, 71-75 
 Hook, Anna Delicia, wife of Dr. Hook, 
 her character, 115-119; letters from, 
 ^33) 511 ; failure in her health, 549; her 
 death, 562, 563 
 Hook, Georgiana, only sister to Dr. Hook, 
 I ; letters to, 36, 158 ; her brother's com- 
 panion at Whippingham, 44 
 Hook, James, grandfather of Dr. Hook, i 
 Hook, James, father of Dr. Hook, i ; his 
 novels, paintings, music, verses, 2, 3 ; 
 ordination and preferments of, 3, 39 ; 
 letter from, 55 ; made Dean of Wor- 
 cester, 82 ; dies, 90 
 Hook, Rohert, only brother of Dr. Hook, 
 
 I, 5 
 Hook, Theodore, uncle of Dr. Hook, i, 
 
 42, 48, 201 
 Hook, Walter Farquhar, birth and paren- 
 tage of, I ; childhood, 3 ; character of 
 as a child, 4 ; goes to school at Hert- 
 ford, 4 ; at Tiverton, 5 ; at Winchester, 
 6 ; begins friendship with W. Page 
 Wood, 7, 598 ; his dislike of classical 
 studies, 6, 7, 599 ; love of Shakspeare 
 and Milton, 6-8, 20, 24, 34, 35, 36, 40, 
 41, 599, 601 ; founds a schoolboys' par- 
 liament, 602 ; his muscular strength, 9 ; 
 humour, 10; dislike to foreigners, 11; 
 musical voice, 12 ; gains prizes for re- 
 citation, 12 ; becomes student of Christ 
 Church O.xford, 13 ; his secluded life 
 there, 15-18 ; visits Stratford-on-Avon, 
 22, 23 ; his intercourse with Wood for- 
 bidden, 25 : thinks of becoming a master 
 in an Irish school, ib. ; tries for the 
 Newdigate prize, 29 ; quits Oxford, 27- 
 29 ; resolves to be ordained, 38 ; be- 
 comes curate to his father, 39 ; his life 
 at Whippingham, 40-49 ; preaches visi- 
 tation sermon, 51 ; offered a church in 
 London, 54 ; preaches at consecration 
 of Dr. LuECombe, 58, 65 ; visits Bishop 
 Jolly, 61 ; meets Bishop Hobart, 74 ; 
 becomes curate of Moseley, 83 ; lecturer 
 at St. Philip's, Birmingham, 86 ; his 
 work in Hirmiiighiun, 86-90 ; made 
 vicar of Holy Trinity, Coventry, gi ; 
 opposed by Evangelicals, 104 ; attitude 
 towards Dissenters, ib. ; a connecting 
 link between the old and new school of 
 High Churchmen, loi ; signs address 
 to Archbishop Howley, 109 ; his rela-
 
 '622 
 
 Index. 
 
 IIOO 
 
 tion to the Tractarian School, 113-114 ; 
 marries, 119 ; his work at Coventry, 
 119-130; has epileptic fits, 131; thinks 
 of resigning, 133, 136 ; preaches at 
 Oxford, 134, 135 ; has testimonial from 
 parishioners, 137 ; visited by Bishop 
 Low, ib. ; death of his eldest boy, 140 ; 
 his first sermon in Chapel Royal, 146 ; 
 made Prebendarj- of Caistor, 157 ; asked 
 to be candidate for vicarage of Leeds, 
 194 ; refuses to preach trial sermon, 196 ; 
 visits Leeds, 198 ; elected Vicar, 207 ; 
 preaches first sermon at Leeds, 209 ; 
 last at Coventry, 212 ; made D.D. and 
 settles at Leeds, 220 ; speech at Church- 
 rate meeting, 225 ; on rebuilding Parish 
 Church, 229 ; his powers as a speaker, 
 230, 231 ; as a preacher, 232 ; attends 
 Methodist meeting, 234 ; speaks at 
 public dinner, 247 ; preaches sermon 
 ' Hear the Church,' 251 ; Visitation 
 Sermon, 254 ; eftects of it, 256-259 ; his 
 letters and speeches on National Educa- 
 tion, 262-267 ; his pamphlet on the 
 rights of Presbyters, 267-272 ; opposition 
 to him, 275 ; raises funds for rebuilding 
 Parish Church, 284 ; starts new maga- 
 zine, 287 ; his views on ' Tracts for the 
 Times,' 310-313; on Tract XC, 316- 
 318; speaks at meeting of S.P.C. K., 
 319 ; checked by the Bishop, 320 ; re- 
 signs Living, 322 ; retracts, ib. ; writes 
 letter on 'State of Parties,' 323; goes 
 abroad, 326 ; made Canon of York, 330 ; 
 preaches at consecration of Parish 
 Church, 334 ; supports plans for Jeru- 
 salem Bishopric, 338 ; distrusts extreme 
 Tractarians, 340, 341 ; defends Dr. 
 Pusey, 34?, 344 ; writes to Mr. Glad- 
 stone on Education, 346 ; his relations 
 with Chartists, 350, 351 ; resolves to 
 divide Parish, 380 ; his Leeds Vicarage 
 Act, 380-384 ; supports the ' Ten hours' 
 Bill,' 385 ; preaches at Monteviot, 388 ; 
 his mother dies, 389 ; votes against de- 
 gradation of Mr. Ward, 393 ; at the 
 foundation and consecration of St. 
 'Saviour's, 395, 399 ; lectures on the 
 three Reformations, 399 ; his letter to 
 Bishop of St. David's on Education, 403- 
 406 ; his period of greatest activity, 
 409 ; his literary labours, 409, 410 ; his 
 sermons on Saints, Mariolatry, and Con- 
 fession, 410, 411; his illness, 412; e.\- 
 tracts from diary of, 413 ; accused of 
 ■change of party, 446 ; his letter in self- 
 defence, 447 ; his speech on Papal 
 Aggression, 451 ; his letters on same, 
 455 ; his letter on Coalition Cabinet, 
 457 ; speaks at foundation of Leeds 
 Town Hall, 461 ; his retrospect of 
 work in Leeds, 463-465 ; his lectures 
 and addresses, 466-469 ; his sympathy 
 with the working people, 469-472 ; his 
 early rising, 473 ; offered Deanery of 
 ■Chichester, 478, 487 ; extracts from jour- 
 
 JOU 
 nal of, 479-487 ; asked to visit America, 
 500 ; his letter on resigning Leeds, 512 ; 
 first visit to Chichester, 515 ; receives 
 testimonials at Leeds, 517, 518 ; his last 
 sermon there, 519 ; leaves Leeds, 520 ; 
 settles at Chichester, 521, 523 ; begins 
 'Lives of Archbishops,' 523-525; sup- 
 ports Rev. F. Maurice, 528 ; made 
 F.R.S., 538; revisits Leeds, 547, 560; 
 declines in strength, 554 ; his remarks 
 on the Irish Church, 555-558 ; preaches 
 at consecration of Dr. Atlay, 558 ; de- 
 clines Deanery of Rochester, 561 ; Can- 
 terbury, ib. : St. Paul's, 564 ; Win- 
 chester, ib. ; finishes volume x. of 
 history, 566 ; dies, 567 ; memorials to 
 him, 568; characteristics of, 569-573; 
 anecdotes and sayings of, 576-582; his 
 correspondence with Dr. Pusey renewed, 
 593 
 Howley, Archbishop, address to, 109 ; Dr. 
 Hook meets at Fulham, 145 ; favourable 
 to the Jerusalem Bishopric, 338 ; re- 
 ferred to, 439 
 Humility, remarks on false, 545 
 Hurric.ine at Leeds, 259 ' "t* 
 
 TBR-\HIM Pasha, 336 
 
 ' Ideal of a Christian Church,' Mr. 
 Ward's, 391 
 Infidelity, remarks on, 449, 490 
 Invalid, spiritual advice to an, 507-509 
 Irish Church, remarks on the, 433, 555-558 
 Irving, Mr., remarks on, 297 
 Irvingism, remarks on, 155, 581 
 
 J.\CKSON, Rev. E., his conne.xion with 
 St. Saviour's and Parish Church, 
 Leeds, 398 
 
 Jebb, Bishop, referred to, 100, loi, 121, 
 146, 157, 294, 306 ; his correspondence 
 with Mr. Kno.v, 174, 177 
 
 Jelf, Dr., Mr. Newman's letter to, 315, 
 318 ; approves Jerusalem Bishopric, 340 ; 
 his letter to Dr. Hook, 344 
 
 Jerusalem, project for establishing bishop- 
 ric at, 336-341 
 
 Jews, admission of to Parliament appro\ ed 
 by Dr. Hook, 409, 425, 488 
 
 Johnson, Dr. .Samuel, quoted, 11, 60; re- 
 ferred to, 33, 100 ; his remarks on Law, 
 70 ; Dr. Hook compared with, 310, 570 
 
 Johnstone, Dr., father-in-law of Dr. Hook, 
 115 
 
 Jolly, Bishop, remark of Bishop Hobart 
 on, 54 ; Dr. Hook visits, 61 ; letters 
 from, 94, 122 ; death of, 97 
 
 Journal, extracts from Dr. Hook's, 479- 
 487
 
 Index. 
 
 62 
 
 Jowett, Mr., Dr. Hook protests against 
 
 withholding his salarj-, 342, 52S 
 Judgment on others to be avoided, 163 
 Justification, letter on, 304 ; J. H. New- 
 man on, 305, 429 ; sketch of sermon on, 
 362 
 
 KEBLE, Mr. J., little known by Dr. 
 Hook at Oxford, 16 ; his part in 
 Tractarian movement, 108 ; remarks on, 
 167 ; his testimony to Dr. Hook, 200 
 Knox, Mr. Alexander, referred to, 100, 
 401 ; correspondence of with Bishop 
 Jebb, 175, 177 
 
 ( T AM B and Salad,' name given to part 
 
 -'-' of Leeds Parish Church, 350 
 * Last Days of our Lord,' title of Dr. 
 
 Hook's first publication, 121, 132 
 ' Law's Serious Call,' remarks on, 70 
 Lay helpers, advice about, ^15 ; their de- 
 LAYB**^fyiH 'W "°°X^LVds, 477 
 '^ Le Bas,'Mr., referred X.a, xii 
 
 Leeds, Dr. Hook asked to be candidate for 
 living of, ip4 ; visited by him, 19S ; he 
 is elected vicar of, 207 : state of Church 
 in, 220-223 • scenes at vestry meetings in, 
 223, 224 ; plans for rebuilding old Parish 
 Church of, 226-229 ; ignorance of Church 
 matters in, 231 ; character of church- 
 manship in, 239, 240-243 : Conservative 
 banquet in, 246-250 ; hurricane at, 259 ; 
 distress in, 284 ; completion of Parish 
 Church, 331 : consecration of same, 333- 
 335 ; population of, 377 ; extent of the 
 parish, 377-379 ; Act for dividing, 3S0- 
 384 ; fever and distress in, 412 ; cholera 
 in, 435 ; foundation of town hall, 461 ; 
 retrospect of Church's work in, 463-465 ; 
 grammar-school of, remodelled, 474 ; 
 Church extension in, 501 ; testimonials 
 from to Dr. Hook, 516-518 ; Dr. Hook 
 leaves, 520 ; revisits, 547, 560 ; effigy 
 of Dr. Hook in parish church of, 568 ; 
 memorial church in, ib. 
 Liddon, Dr., letter to, 593 
 Lincoln, expected appointment of Dr. 
 Hook to see of, 498 ; Dr. Jackson made 
 Bishop of, 499 
 Longley, Dr., Bishop of Ripon, mentioned, 
 221, 320, 322, 325, 396, 398, 402, 438 ; 
 remarks on, 586 
 Lord's Day, Dr. Hook's sermon on the, 
 
 466 
 Low, Dr.. Bishop of Ross and Argyll, 
 mentioned, 53, 56, 58 ; visits Dr. Hook 
 at Coventry, 137 ; present at consecra- 
 tion of I>eeds Parish Church, 333 
 Lowih Bishop, referred to, 100 
 Lucas on Happiness, referred to, 175 
 
 Luscombe, Dr., his school at Hertford, 4 ; 
 appointed Bishop for English on the 
 Continent, 54 ; consecrated at Stirling, 
 64 ; Dr. Hook's sermon at his consecra- 
 tion, 59, 65 ; objections to his mission, 
 66, 67 ; his reception in France, 68 
 Luther compared to O'Connell, 181 
 Ljmdhurst, Lord, offers livings to Dr. 
 Hook, 90, 91 
 
 A/TACAULAY, Lord, Dr. Hook's pirody 
 
 on, 574, 575 
 Macmullen, Rev. R., his connexion with 
 
 St. Saviour's, 398 ; secedes to Rome, 
 
 399. 400 
 Madden, Miss, married to grandfather of 
 
 Dr. Hook, I 
 Magazine, the British, started, 107 
 Manning, Mr., referred to, 296 
 Mariolatry, Dr. Hook's sermon on, 410 
 Marriage, remarks on, 493 ; with deceased 
 
 wife's sister, 436 
 Martineau, Miss, remarks on, 171 
 MartjTi, Henry, remarks on, 175 
 Maurice, Rev. F., supported by Dr. Hook, 
 
 528 
 ISIaynooth, the grant to, approved by Dr. 
 
 Hook, 409, 421 
 ^leditation, necessity of, 296 ; necessity 
 
 of joining activity with, 373 
 Mercy, advice about an Order of, 414 
 Methodism, the traditional religion at 
 
 Leeds, 239, 240, 243 
 Methodists, converts from, to the Church, 
 
 234 ; Dr. Hook attends meeting of, ib. ; 
 
 to be tenderly treated, 301 
 Milton, Dr. Hook's love of, 3, 6, 7, 8, 599 
 Moseley, Dr. Hook curate of, 83 ; life at, 
 
 83-86 
 
 TVr ATIONAL Education, see Education 
 National Society, foundation of, loi 
 
 Newman, John Henry, little known by 
 Dr. Hook at Oxford, 13 ; his part in the 
 rise of Tractarian movement, 107, 108, 
 III ; letters from, 113, 138, 275, 317; 
 letters to, 289, 310, 317 ; remarks on, 3. .5, 
 309 ; his letter to Dr. Jelf, 315, 318 ; liis 
 abhorrence of the Jerusalem Bishopric, 
 338, 339 ; his intimacy with Sir. Ward 
 and Oakley, 341 ; resigns living, 390 ; 
 .secedes to Rome, ^04 ; his book on 
 Justification, 429 ; his lectures cited, 569 
 
 Newton, Sir Isaac, remarks on Brewster's 
 life of. 168 
 
 Nobody's Club, Dr. Hook declines to be 
 a member of, 583 
 
 Norris, Mr. H. Handley, referred to, 66, 
 100, loi, 102
 
 624 
 
 Index. 
 
 ^ ;t.77. 
 
 NOV 
 Novel reading, reiaarks on, 590 
 N linns. Rev. T., Vicar of St. Paul's, 
 Leeds, 352 ; letters to and from, 353 
 
 r~\BEDlENCE better than opinions, 355 
 Obedience to Bishops, remarks on, 
 
 550 
 O'Connell, Mr , compared with Luther, 181 
 Oxford, Dr. Hook's life at, 15-29 ; Bishops 
 
 of, see Bagot and Wilberforce 
 
 pALGRAVE, letter to F. T., Esq., 591 
 Palmer, Mr. W., his part in the O.x- 
 ford movement, 107, loS, iii, 112 ; his 
 letter about the rise of a new party, 341 
 
 Papal aggression, the, in England, 450 ; 
 Dr. Hook's speech on the, 451 
 
 Parishes, on division of large, 430, 431 
 
 Patience, remarks on, 584 
 
 Peel, Sir Robert, letters from, 126, 199 ; 
 mentioned, 250, 33S 
 
 Perfection, meaning of, in Holy Scripture, 
 176 
 
 Phillpotts, Dr., Bishop of E.xeter, letter 
 from, to Dr. Hook, 253 
 
 Pitt, Mr., mentioned, 11, 32 
 
 Poet, advice to a young, 179 
 
 Pole, Archbishop, remarks on, 583, 584, 
 585. 589 
 
 Political parties, conne.xion of, with 
 Church of England, 541 
 ^Politics, abstinence of Dr. Hook from, isi 
 
 Praj'er, remarks on, 154 
 
 Prayer Book, schemes for altering, 427 
 
 Preaching, remarks on, 165-167, 182, 183, 
 578 ; Dr. Hook's method of, 232 
 
 Prejudices, necessity of, 184 
 
 Presbyterian rights asserted, a pamphlet 
 by Dr. Hook, 267-272 
 
 Protestants, untenable position of the e.x- 
 ' treme, in English Church, 356 
 
 Protestantism, mischief of extreme, 418 
 
 Public meetings, Dr. Hook's dislike of, 363 
 
 Public speaking, remarks on, 230, 231 
 
 Public Worship Bill, letter on the, 594 
 
 Purchas case, letter on the, 596 
 
 Pusey, Dr., acquaintance of Dr. Hook 
 with at O.xford, 15 ; correspondence with 
 about American Church, 138 ; about the 
 ' Tracts for the Times,' 256 ; his Tract on 
 Baptism, 293 ; remarks on, 305 ; his ser- 
 mon on the Eucharist attacked, 342 ; 
 suspended from University Pulpit, 343 : 
 defended by Dr. Hook, ib.; his conne.xion 
 witli St. Saviour's, 394 ; correspondence 
 of with Dr. Hook renewed, 593 
 
 Puseyites, remarks on the, 446 
 
 SEL 
 
 jD ANKE, Dr., a meeting with, 544 
 
 Reading, a course of theological, 50, 
 369 
 
 Real Presence, on the, 365, 366 
 
 Reconciliation of friends, remarks on, 545 
 
 ' Record ' Newspaper, remarks of on Dr. 
 Hook, 202, 213 ; letter from editor of, 
 437 
 
 Reform, Church, schemes for, 106 
 
 Regeneration, meaning of, 177 
 
 Religion, hereditary, 184, 186 
 
 Religious Tract Society, a meeting with 
 agents of, 78, 80 
 
 Religious world, definition of the, 529 
 
 Renovation, distinction between and re- 
 generation, 177 
 
 Republicanism, prevalence of among work- 
 ing people, 412 
 
 Ritualists, remarks on, 549, 550 
 
 Roman Catholic countries, advice on visit- 
 ing, 361 
 
 Romanism, attractions of, 302 ; remarks 
 on, 449 
 
 Rose, Mr. Hugh James, his part in the 
 Tractarian Movement, 107 
 
 Russell, Lord John, refeixed to, 452, 454, 
 457, 575 
 
 Ryder, Dr., Bishop of Lichfield, men- 
 tioned, 87, note ; remonstrance addressed 
 to, 130, 205 
 
 C.'MNTS, sermon on invocation of, 410 
 St. Saviour, Church of, founded in 
 Leeds, 395 ; consecration of, 396 ; Mr. 
 Ward first vicar of, 397 ; secession of 
 clergy from to Rome, 399 ; frequent 
 changes in clergy of, 410 : crisis in- 
 affairs of, 452 ; relapses into quiescence, 
 453 
 
 Salisbury, Marquis of, reference to speech 
 of, 541 
 
 Sandford, Dr., Bishop of Edinburgh, men- 
 tioned, 59 
 
 Savings Bank in Coventry, 125 
 
 Schools, importance of attending to paro- 
 chial, 302 
 
 Schools, infant, founded by Dr. Hook at 
 Coventry, 12;, 149 
 
 Schools, Sunday, at Coventry, 124 ; at 
 Leeds, 283 ; letter on, 2S5 
 
 Scotch Church, interest of Dr. Hook in, 
 53 ; consecration of Dr. Luscombe bj-, 
 53-58 
 
 Seabur>-, Dr., first American Bishop con- 
 secrated by Scottish Bishops, 71 
 
 Self examination, remarks on, 214 
 
 Selfishness, remarks on, il>. 
 Selwyn Bishop, 337
 
 Index. 
 
 625 
 
 SER 
 
 Sermon writing, remarks on, 176, 294 
 
 Shakspeare, Dr. Hook's love for, see under 
 Hook, W. F., order of St. founded by 
 Hook and Wood, 601 
 
 Sins, distinction between those of weakness 
 and of intention, 81 
 
 Smith, Sydney, quoted, 102, 104 
 
 Social reform, remarks on, 494 
 
 Societies, foundation of religious in Eng- 
 land, 100 
 
 Society for Propagation of Gospel, igno- 
 rance of in Leeds, 231 ; Dr. Hook's 
 work for, 231, 232 ; speech for at Man- 
 chester, 272 
 
 Society for Promoting Christian Know - 
 ledge, ignorance of in Leeds, 231 ; iJr 
 Hook's work for, 231, 232 ; his speech 
 for interrupted, 320 ; a common ground 
 for different parties, 326 
 
 Society for Religious and Useful Know- 
 ledge, foundation of in Coventry, 126- 
 129 
 
 Socinianism, tendency of Low Church to, 
 324 
 
 Socinians, unfair translation of Bible by, 
 145 
 
 Soldiers, temptations of compared with 
 those of clergymen, 503 
 
 Sonnets composed by Dr. Hook, 329 
 
 Soult, Marshal, mentioned, 294 
 
 Stanley, Dr., Bishop of Norwich, his 
 correspondence with Dr. Hook, 422, 423 
 
 Stanley, Dr., Dean of Westminster, letter 
 to, 539 
 
 Stirling, Dr. Hook preaches at, S9 
 
 Stoughton, Dr., letter to, 591 
 
 Stratford-on-Avon, Dr. Hook's visit to, 
 21-24 
 
 Studyj Dr. Hook's course of at Whipping- 
 ham, 49, 50 ; advice about, 190 
 
 Sympathy needed between rich and poor, 
 147 ; in worship, 156 ; importance of, 
 587 
 
 'TEALE, Rev. W. H., edits 'Leeds 
 Magazine,' 290 
 
 Ten Hours Bill, the, supported by Dr. 
 Hook, 385 
 
 Tennant, Mr. J. M., a trustee of Leeds 
 Vicarage, 197 ; visits Coventry, ib. ; his 
 great usefulness, 334, 477 ; letter on 
 his death, 592, 
 
 Tiverton, W. F. Hook at school there, 5 ; 
 badly taught at, 6 
 
 Tract XC., publication of, 309, 313 ; ob- 
 ject of, 314 ; protest against, ib. ; cen- 
 sure of, 315 : IJr. Hook's line in refer- 
 ence to, 316, 324 ; Bishop Blomfield on, 
 
 WOL 
 
 316: withdrawn, 390; revived censure 
 of, 392 
 
 Tractarian School, origin of the, 106-111 ; 
 leaders of, 112 ; Dr. Hook's relations to, 
 113, 114, 274,_ 275, 292, 310, 313; his 
 remarks on writings of, 256, 257 ; defects 
 in system of, 244 ; Dr. Hook's distrust 
 of, 340 ; new party rises from, 341 ; Dr 
 Hook's defence of, 374 
 
 Tragett, Rev. T. H ., his testimony to Dr. 
 Hook, 200 ; letters to, 190, 306, 326 
 
 Trustees of Leeds Vicarage, Dr. Hook re- 
 commended to the, 194 ; some of them 
 visit Coventry, 197 ; memorials to, 205, 
 207 ; elect Dr. Hook Vicar, 207 
 
 WICTORIA, Queen, coronation of, 294 
 'Voice of the Church,' a magazine 
 started by Dr. Hook, 287 
 Voltaire, referred to, 70, 167 
 
 AArAKE, Archbishop, referred to, 57, 
 * * 100 
 
 Ward, Mr., Fellow of Balliol, O-xford, 391; 
 his Ideal of a Christian Church, ib. ; his 
 trial and condemnation, 392, 393 
 
 Ward, Rev. R., first Vicar of St. Saviour's, 
 Leeds, 397 ; his tract on the Eucharist, 
 398 ; makes a vehement speech, 400 ; re- 
 signs, 410 ; secedes to Rome, ib. 
 
 Waterland, referred to, 100 
 
 Watson, Mr. Joshua, referred to, 100, loi, 
 102, 109, 294 
 
 Wellington, the Duke of, 294; his death, 
 460 ; remarks on his character, ib. and 
 461 
 
 Wesley, Charles, referred to, 448 
 
 Wesley, John, his revival of religion, 99 ; 
 remarks on, 165 ; his success in the nor- 
 thern towns, 320 
 
 Whippingham, Dr. Hookas life at, 40-49 ; 
 revisited, 298 
 
 Wilberforce, a meeting with Mr. the elder, 
 91 
 
 Wilberforce, Rev. R. J., preaches at con- 
 secration of Leeds Parish Church, 335 
 
 Wilberforce, Bishop, his saying about Dr. 
 Hook, 114, 449 ; letters to, 292, 295,301, 
 31 . 5i4> 530, 536 ; referred to, 439 ; re- 
 proved by Dr. Hook, 565 
 
 Williams, Rev. Isaac, 310, 341, 342 
 
 Wilson, Bishop, referred to, loo 
 
 Winchester, W. K._ Hook enters Com- 
 moners there, 5 ; life at, 5-13, 598-605 ; 
 great rebellion at. 18, 19, 608 ; recollec- 
 tions of, 143 ; Dr. Hook revisits, 417 
 
 Wiseman, Cardinal, 356 
 
 Wolff, Dr., remarks on, 297 
 
 ss
 
 626 
 
 Index. 
 
 woo 
 
 Wood, William Page (Lord Hatherley), 
 friendship of with Dr. Hook, 7, 599 ; 
 their school life together, 598-605 ; their 
 parting, 13 ; intercourse with Hook for- 
 bidden, 24 ; goes to study at Geneva, 
 608 ; collects evidence for Queen Caro- 
 line, 610 ; returns to England, ib. : goes 
 to Trinity, Cambridge, 611 ; renews 
 intercourse with Hook, ib. ; made Fellow 
 of Trinity, 614; votes for disestablishing 
 Irish Church, 555 ; his reminiscences of 
 Dr. Hook, 598-618 
 
 Wordsworth, William, the poet, remarks 
 on, 158-160 ; letters from, 163, 303 ; 
 quoted, 299, 300 
 
 YOU 
 Working people, Dr. Hook's efforts on be 
 
 half of the, 466, 468 ; their attachment to 
 
 him, 469-472 
 Writers, a classification of, 162 
 
 "VT'ORK, Archbishop of, see Harcour 
 
 York, Canonry at oflfered to Dr. 
 
 Hook, 33 
 Yorkshire Church Union, Dr. Hook's letter 
 
 to secretaries of the, 449 
 Young clergymen, indiscretions of, 367 
 
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