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largely shaped by his sojourn in Germany. It may have been that such matters as those with which his name was afterwards so closely associated, the organization of academical studies, the endowment of research, and even the foundation of a review like the Academy, had previously come into his thoughts ;? but certainly the contrast between a German and English university, a contrast realized strongly by actual experience of the former, must have served to emphasize his impressions and to direct them to a definite result; while the original plan of the Academy was undoubtedly modelled on that of the Literarisches Centralblatt. The Athenaum of Feb. 22, 1879, has an interesting passage on this point, in the obituary notice from which we have already made an extract :
Soon after taking his degree, Appleton went for some time to Germany, to perfect himself in a language which he already knew fairly well, and to prosecute his favourite studies. He spent some time at Heidelberg and afterwards at Berlin. The contrast between German and English universities impressed him, as it has done inost of those who have studied both impartially, and he came home confirmed in the opinion that, while Oxford and Cambridge are admirable finishing schools and consummate examining machines, they are far surpassed by Germany in that important function of a university, which consists in keeping alive a spirit of mature and disinterested learning and of original research. In order to give expression to this view, he translated and published a pamphlet by Dr. Döllinger on “ Universities, Past and Present; and to the propagation of a higher conception of the function of universities, in regard to learning as opposed to teaching, he subsequently devoted a great part of his life and energy. He projected a learned journal, after the model of similar publications in Germany, in which all books were to be noticed by persons specially qualified by the course of their own studies to deal
i See page 89.
? In 1867,-"in order that it might appear before the several Bills relating to the University of Oxford come again under the consideration of Parliament."
with them, and prepared to give their names as a guarantee of their fitness. This was the origin of the Academy.
Genoa was our starting-point for a three months' tour in Italy, of which many pleasant memories remain, though few are of such a character as can well be transferred to these pages. Florence, Milan, Bologna, Padua, Venice, Naples, a visit to Pompeii, a scramble up Vesuvius, above all a month in Rome, where we certainly worked hard at churches, pictures and ruins of every date—all this is a well-worn theme; but, at the risk of telling again an ofttold tale, a few extracts from letters shall be made :
The want of sympathy with art and with practices to which we are unaccustomed, and which we don't take the trouble to understand, is a most serious drawback to the enjoyment of a foreign tour, and, more than all, of such a place as Rome, which is a very hive of art, as well as a place proud of its past, tenacious of its peculiarities and the very centre and focus of Catholic Christendom. We really must put our dignity in our pocket in the face of the gigantic fact of Roman history, Roman art, Roman religion, Roman manners, and the great swarming city itself. How seldom do you find a German or a Frenchman impervious to all these influences ; he will talk to you by the hour about a picture, or a foreign language, or the antiquities of a place like Rome, the architecture of its palaces, the last new phase of its politics, the significance of Catholicism in the world. Whereas—but I am quite ashamed to go on condemning our countrymen in this root and branch manner; and besides, we are not all equally bad. . . . . There are many English people of whom Rome herself is proud, and Gibson, Miss Horner and Nathaniel Hawthorne are a host in themselves, and may stand surety for us that the modern Anglo-Saxon is not quite hopeless.
The Pope himself [Pius IX.] is a dear, fatherly, gentle, spiritual-looking old man. His is scarcely an Italian face, but a kind of universal, indeterminate face-just the face for the father of a world-wide, manifold, struggling Christendom; and it does you good and makes you more of a Christian to look at its serenity.
He was much impressed by the service at St. Peter's on Good Friday morning, a description of which ends
The people went up two and two, men and women, the former, if anything, slightly in the majority; all classes alike, soldiers, nobles and peasants, knelt, uttered a short prayer, and kissed the symbol of man's reconciliation. As a moving service, this to my mind is unequalled during the week ; and so far from the adoration of the emblem seening superstitious, it appeared the most obvious and natural thing in the world; a great improvement on the British “ Dearly beloved brethren," some of us thought, at such a place, and at such a time.
One is struck by the exceeding plainness of the Roman churches. If the sacramental lamp were removed, one might fancy oneself in England. . . . . In the churches where Catholicism is presented publicly and authoritatively to the world, one looks in vain for the abominable and shapeless dolls, with their twopenny-halfpenny tinsel dresses, which distress one in France or Belgium. The mother of Christ is presented, by the authority of the Holy See, as the object and stimulator of devout aspiration, under the conception of Perugino or Raphael or Michael Angelo, as un gran pezzo di donna, "a splendid piece of womanhood," which will really elevate the mind by its very beauty above the level of ordinary life. I can't help thinking that a great picture by its very excellence keeps people from abusing it as an object of worship, and that when we hear of winking pictures or miraculous images we may be quite safe in assuming that they are rude blocks and miserable daubs, which depress the soul instead of raising it. . . . . Who ever heard of a Vandyke or a Titian working wonders ? People say that going to Rome in the flesh is the best preservative against going over to Rome in the spirit : I think that this is quite the opposite of the truth. If you don't see the Bambino, and if you take the trouble to understand what is going on in the services, you will be led to feel that what divides Christendom is not religion, but prejudice, ignorance, misunderstanding, differences in words and in the outside rind of thought, want of sympathy and communication, a host of habits which grow up, dividing man from man, and which prevent us from seeing that are all aiming the same way,
thinking at bottom the same thoughts, hoping, aspiring after, feeling the same thing.
On his return from the Continent Dr. Appleton resumed his residence at Oxford, and in October, 1867, was appointed lecturer in Philosophy at his own college. His note-books bear ample testimony to the conscientious labour bestowed upon the subjects which he taught, and I am glad to be able to add a statement by one of his pupils as to the value of his lectures, and the estimation in which the lecturer was held at this time at St. John's:
To the general body of students he was above all things the representative of German ideas, German thought, learning, method ; and was consequently regarded with mingled feelings of jealousy, mystery and admiration. . . . . He was the only efficient tutor we had upon “Greats”” subjects, and his lectures on the History of Philosophy, which I attended, were undoubtedly very valuable ; more particularly as, at that time, there were very few men in the University who knew anything of the German language, and Zeller and a variety of works, which have been since translated, could only be read in the original.
The qualities for which Dr. Appleton was most remarkable as a lecturer were, I should say, subtlety, clearness, system and power of compression. He took a great delight in putting the minds of his pupils through the exercise of differentiating nice shades of thought; while nothing could exceed the neatness with which he would reduce a large mass of matter to a small compass. His style was always lucid and animated, and calculated to fix what he said in the memory of his hearers. . . For myself, I always think with pleasure and gratitude of the time when I was under him.
Amongst many, however, in his own college, it would perhaps be correct to say that he rather inspired respect than won any high degree of popularity. Taught by his course of reading for the final classical school to subject everything to a strict analysis, and armed with rather a powerful dialectic, he was, we can well imagine, a sore
1 The above extracts are from letters to a “Long Vacation Journal" started by an Oxford reading party in North Devon in 1866.
trial to men of fixed opinions, even if he did not sometimes permit his love of mischief to triumph over prudence, and prompt him to shock the propriety of the commonroom by advancing some highly revolutionary thesis. He was an energetic product of new Oxford, with a high ideal of what a university ought to be; and this ideal he pressed upon all, with whom he came in contact, in season and out of season.
He desired to see his own college taking its place in the intellectual regeneration, and so his projects of reform were many and far-reaching : he was known, moreover, to be the personal friend of the leaders of the re-organizing movement, which has produced, and is producing, such important results at Oxford. All this was, no doubt, disquieting to those who, if not altogether satisfied with the old régime, were content to put off the day of change—were “opportunists” in reform, and feared to drift away from their old moorings. But from all he certainly won respect to a high degree : his aims, if to some they seemed impracticable, were, at least, perfectly disinterested: he sought no private ends, shrank from no sacrifice : he did not preach what he did not also practise ; if he made ruthless war upon idleness and self-indulgence, he was himself an example of hard work and vigorous intellectual life; if he was, in his public capacity, as holding a trust for his college, stern and inexorable to vice, he was one of whom the following testimony could be given by one of his contemporaries >
The signal purity of his habits of life, and his rare gentleness, might well have earned him Milton's Cambridge nickname—the Lady; for, more than any man whom I have known, he seemed to me to combine feminine graces with true manliness.
The following letter which I have received will be read with interest