St. Mary's, Oxford, 1828-43. Here, with Pusey, Keble, R. H. Froude, and Isaac Williams, he initiated the "Oxford Movement," and wrote Tracts for the Times and Lyra Apostolica. Of the 179 lyrics in the latter, Newman wrote 109, largely during a Mediterranean trip in 1832-33. Tract No. 90, his twenty-fourth contribution to the series, appeared in February, 1841, and caused such an outcry as ended the publication and turned the author's feet toward Rome. He retired to Littlemore, where he held a chaplaincy; resigned his preferments in 1843, and submitted to the Church of Rome in 1845. In 1848 he founded the Oratory of St. Philip Neri in Birmingham, and became its Father Superior. In 1854-58 he was rector of the new Roman Catholic University at Dublin. In 1859 he returned to Birmingham, and opened a school at Edgbaston. In 1879 he was made Cardinal. Among his numerous publications are Arians of the Fourth Century (1833); The Prophetical Office of the Church (1837); Essays on Justification (1837); Theory of Religious Belief (1844); The Development of Christian Doctrine (1845); Essay in Aid of a Grammar of Assent (1870); History of Arianism (1875), and many Sermons, Lectures, etc. His Apologia pro Vita Sua (1864) was called forth by an attack from Kingsley. Loss and Gain, or the Story of a Convert (1848), is also in some sense autobiographical. His only other professed work of fiction is Callista, A Sketch of the Third Century (1858). His Verses on Various Occasions (1868) exhibit great poetic talent, neglected for what the author considered more important labors.

LIGHT IN DARKNESS.

Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on!

The night is dark, and I am far from home -
Lead Thou me on!

Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou
Shouldst lead me on.

I loved to choose and see my path; but now,
Lead Thou me on!

I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will: remember not past years.

So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on,

O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone.

And with the morn those angel-faces smile
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.

THE CALL OF DAVID.

Latest born of Jesse's race,
Wonder lights thy bashful face.
While the prophet's gifted oil
Seals thee for a path of toil,
We, thy Angels, circling round thee,
Ne'er shall find thee as we found thee
When thy faith first brought us near
In thy lion fight severe.

Go! amid thy flocks awhile
At thy doom of greatness smile;
Bold to bear God's heaviest load,
Dimly guessing of the road-
Rocky road, and scarce-ascended,
Though thy foot be angel-tended!

Double praise thou shalt attain
In royal court and battle plain;
Then comes heart-ache, care, distress,
Blighted hope, and loneliness;

Wounds from friend and gifts from foe,
Dizzied fate, and guilt, and woe;

Loftiest aims by earth defiled,
Gleams of wisdom sin-beguiled,
Sated power's tyrannic mood,
Counsels shared with men of blood
Sad success, parental tears,
And a dreary gift of years.

Strange that guileless face and form
To lavish on the scarring storm!
Yet we take thee in thy blindness,
And we harass thee in kindness;
Little chary of thy fame-
Dust unborn may bless or blame
But we mould thee for the root
Of man's promised healing fruit,
And we mould thee hence to rise
As our brother to the skies.

WARNINGS.

When Heaven sends sorrow
Warnings go first,

Lest it should burst
With storming might
On souls too bright

To fear the morrow.

Can science bear us
To the hid springs
Of human things?
Why may not dream
Or thought's day-gleam
Startle, yet cheer us?