some particulars, his views by the light which their reproofs afforded.

Time passed, and the mind of Oxford, as well as of Great Britain in general, began to be agitated by questions of deeper moment than the value and right construction of a syllogism. In the struggle of parties incident upon the long peace, Toryism, as Lord Liverpool had modified it, lost ground, and new principles of foreign and domestic policy rose in public estimation. On the crest of the wave, so far as fiscal affairs were carried on by it, Whately rode. He was, without being aware of it, a disciple, in many respects, of Malthus and Bentham. He advocated Free Trade, Parliamentary Reform, and a more stringent Poor-law, long before any of these became fashionable. His opinions upon Church matters were, however, less liberal, for he believed in the reality of the Church " as a body apart and independent of the State." It was the community of sentiment which on this head he created between Dr Newman and himself, which, for a brief space, knitted the two men together. But the union could not last. Both claimed the right of thinking for themselves; both were impatient of contradiction. Whately, as the senior, took the lead; and being the best informed and clearest reasoner of the two, for a while kept it. And so long as Newman was willing to receive and reflect his master's views, his master gave him in return his undivided love and confidence. He at once appointed him Vice-Principal of the Hall over which he himself presided. But whether this brought them into too close connection, or whether already Newman's imagination was begin ning to outrun the pace at which Whately's more sober judgment could travel, they grew weary of one another in a year. Newman accepted, in 1827, the tutorship of Oriel, and he and Whately parted, never again to meet on their old

terms of mutual confidence and friendship.

In noticing the dispute between Dr Newman and Mr Kingsley, we said as much, in our last Number, about the commencement of the Tractarian movement as a story now so old seemed to require. We content ourselves, therefore, with stating here, that neither with the movement itself, nor with the arrangements to which it led, had Whately the slightest sympathy. His notions of the Church were quite different from the notions of Pusey, Newman, and Keble. He put away from him the idea of a Christian priesthood, and made his views known far beyond his own circle, by publishing a course of sermons which maintained that negative doctrine. Now, it was of the essence of what we must be permitted to call Tractarianism (though we by no means wish to use the expression as a term of reproach), that the Christian ministry, canonically established and handed down to us, is as much a priesthood as that which prevailed under the old law. Circumstances

had indeed modified the executive functions which devolved upon the new priesthood in contradistinction to the old. The one great sacrifice once offered on the cross having fulfilled, has superseded, the offering up of bulls and of goats. But the Eucharist was thereby elevated to the rank of an oblation, which it rested with an order of men, appointed in unbroken succession from the apostles, exclusively to offer. Indeed, upon the acceptance of this truth rested the claim of the Church to be believed in as a society not at all dependent on the State, thongh accidentally brought into alliance with it; and sacrificing more, for the sake of maintaining the alliance, than the alliance was worth. Observing how bitter Whately's opposition to these principles was, it is not easy to believe that the 'Letters on the Church, by an Episcopalian,' of which the

authorship was attributed to him, really proceeded from his pen. Yet he never disavowed them.

At last came the time when, for good or evil, all the old landmarks by which the Tory party had heretofore steered its course were to be removed. The death of Lord Liverpool operated like the breaking down of a sluice behind which a press of water had long accumulated; and Whately, in common with other members of the selfstyled Liberal party, rejoiced in the prospect of change. He gave to Mr Canning and his Administration such support as he could, believing that the force of circumstances must carry that great man far beyond the line which he professed himself anxious to hold. Of Lord Goderich he appears to have entertained no very high opinion; but Peel won his heart by the same act which separated him for ever from his Oxford constituency, and gave the first and most fatal blow to the ascendancy of Toryism. The preparations made in the first year of the Duke of Wellington's Administration for the repeal of Catholic disabilities, were not kept altogether secret from the leaders of his own party in Oxford. Peel corresponded on the subject with Lloyd, and Lloyd communicated in confidence with others, of whom some were less reticent elsewhere than they might have been. Hence, in 1828, the petition against concession was voted and signed by a far greater number of masters and doctors than had ever before taken part in the politics of the University. On the other hand, the minority took courage, and laid themselves out to gather strength; and, by-and-by, the repeal of the Test and Corporation Acts brought allies to them from among that respectable class which is found in universities as well as elsewhere-waverers who, having no opinions of their own, are ready, as often as crises arrive, to sail before the wind, in whatever direction it may seem to blow. But we need not pursue this subject


farther. In 1829 the Catholic Relief Bill passed; in 1830 George IV. died; in 1831 Lord Grey came into office; and in 1832, amid the fury of the Reform Bill, the great Tory party was swept aside for a season.

Meanwhile Whately was winning his way in spite of a rough, and at times a rude, exterior, into that sort of favour which makes a man be followed and courted, even by those who personally dislike him. He was received as a guest at Holland House, and gave back to the lady of the mansion, in the shape of sharp repartee, as much as he got. He became popular as a University preacher, in spite of a manner in the pulpit so grotesque as to be provocative not unfrequently of mere laughter. Whether he was aware of what he was doing when he threw his leg over the side of the tribune, and rocked to and fro like a mandarin, may be doubted. He himself has told us that he was not. "All disregard of self," he says, speaking of his manner, "is so amiable, that unconsciousness seems to be almost a virtue. In the pulpit it is quite; an ambassador from heaven has no right to be thinking of himself, or trying to be a fine man. [If this virtue were practised by our clergy in singleness of heart, how much increased would be the effect produced!] When a friend, therefore, asked me whether I did not feel nervous about preaching, I replied that I dared not; for nervousness implies thoughts about your own appearance, when you ought to be thinking only of your hearers." Be this as it may, the effect upon the congregations which he addressed, and not least upon that which crowded to hear him in St Mary's Church, was often distressing. Thoughtful men looked at him with a feeling not far removed from shame; the more frivolous laughed aloud; yet both classes rarely failed to go away satisfied that great truths or clever sophisms had been spoken in their hearing.

2 K

We have alluded to the interruption of Whately's intimacy with Newman, and to some of the causes of it. The first serious breach between them took place in 1829; when Newman, who, in convocation, had always voted in the minority on the Catholic question, turned round upon Peel, after the question was carried. Referring to this matter, Newman thus expresses himself:-"Whately was considerably annoyed at me, and he took a humorous revenge, of which he had given me due notice beforehand. As a head of a house, he had duties of hospitality to men of all parties; he asked a set of the least intellectual men in Oxford to dinner, and men most fond of port; he made me one of the party; placed me between provost this, and principal that, and then asked me if I was proud of my friends. However, he had a serious meaning in his act; he saw more clearly than I could do that I was separating from his own friends for good and all."

In 1830 Whately consented to be placed in nomination for the Professorship of Political Economy, then of recent erection in the University. He accepted the appointment on two grounds-first, because he was anxious to break down the prejudice which then prevailed in Oxford against the study; and next, because he had given a great deal of attention to the subject, and was not only conversant with it, but fond of it. We should be unjust to Whately's memory were we not to add that, to some extent at least, he accomplished his object. Able man as he was, Mr Nassau Senior, the first professor, could with difficulty collect a small class, and did little with it. Whately's reputation drew a larger audience about him; and the line which he took at starting, as it met the objections which were usually brought against the science, so, without doubt, it would have insured a large measure of success had circumstances permitted him

to go through with it to the end. But Whately was by this time in full favour with the Whigs. Even Lord Grey, seldom as he troubled himself to look beyond the family circle for men of merit, had his attention drawn to the Principal of St Alban's Hall. Whately, to his great astonishment, received one morning a letter, announcing that the Prime Minister had "satisfied himself that he should best accomplish the object which his Majesty had in view, by proposing that he (Whately) should fill the vacant office of Archbishop of Dublin." We believe that Lord Brougham, in reply to some questions put to him by Mr Fitzpatrick, insinuates, without going quite so far as to affirm, that he was the medium through which Dr Whately's merits became known to the First Lord of the Treasury. Now, we beg to assure Lord Brougham, Mr Fitzpatrick, and all whom the matter may concern, that this is neither more nor less than one of his Lordship's habitual flourishes. Lordship had nothing whatever to say to Dr Whately's elevation. That was brought about, as we stated some time ago, through the accidental interference of Mr Senior. That Lord Brougham, like other leaders of his party, accepted the arrangement as a wise one, is probable enough. Whigs, to do them justice, stand stoutly by one another; and Whiggery has been a fruitful source of advancement in the Church ever since Lord Grey's reign. But beyond this, we have the best reason for saying that Lord Brougham was in nowise connected with an arrangement, concerning which he was, perhaps, the very last member of the Cabinet to whom Earl Grey would have applied for advice.


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dome of St Alban's Hall been transferred to the summit of St Patrick's Cathedral in Dublin, greater consternation could not have prevailed." There happen to be no wranglers in Oxford, the term being exclusively a Cambridge one; and St Alban's Hall is not a large room surmounted by a dome, but a hostel or college, like other halls not endowed with fellowships. What Mr Fitzpatrick means, we presume, to say is, however, correct enough. Not only at Oxford, but every where else beyond the little circle which included Whately and Arnold, Churchmen of every shade of opinion heard of the appointment with surprise and alarm. They knew that Whately was an able man; and not a few believed him to be sound in the faith, His republication of Archbishop King's great work had indeed given of fence to the Evangelical or Calvinistic party; and among the more eager politicians on the other side, advantage was taken of his liberal opinions on the nature of the Christian Sabbath to charge him with laxity of principle. But this latter was as much a mistake as the indignation of the Evangelicals was misplaced. Whately's orthodoxy was sufficiently settled to qualify him for the episcopal throne in Dublin or anywhere else. It was the laxity of his views in regard to the Church's rights considered as part and parcel of the Constitution-his ultra-Liberalism of action and of speech on all questions of polity and order which alarmed, and justly alarmed, sound Churchmen, in regard to his fitness for the administration of that particular see to which the Minister had raised him. That these fears proved in their result to have been exaggerated, furnishes no just reason for speaking of them now as irrational. Many a madman is sufficiently sane to be trusted with a lighted match beside a haystack; but we should hardly pronounce him either a fool or a coward who, seeing a madman with a lighted match in his hand

near a stack belonging to himself, should be a little nervous as to the probable consequences.

Dr Whately entered upon the duties of his new office at a period of extraordinary excitement and difficulty in Ireland. The Orange, or extreme Protestant party, though defeated, was not subdued. The Romanists, rejoicing in their recent success in the measure of emancipation, were gathering breath for another and a more decisive struggle. Whately was received by the former with undisguised hostility; by the latter, with affected respect and real suspicion. His manner and address perplexed both. Instead of trying to conciliate, he bantered and quizzed the Protestants. The Roman Catholics he puzzled exceedingly by the oddity with which he handled their most cherished fantasies. On the whole, however, he got on better with the members of every other religious persuasion than with his own. Between him and the Romish Archbishop Murray, in particular, a cordial intimacy sprang up. A genial, gentle, and, for his class, a liberal man, Dr Murray bowed to the influence of a mind stronger than his own. He first satisfied himself that the new Archbishop was such as he professed to be, and then gave him his entire confidence; and when Whately set himself to carry into effect for the Government a plan of mixed education, Murray, after a little hesitation, worked cordially with him. This circumstance, in which the Protestant clergy, had they been wise, would have rejoiced, deepened their personal dislike to their Diocesan, and increased their suspicions. They were too much blinded by prejudice to perceive that whatever lets in light upon minds darkened by ignorance has a tendency to create in these minds distrust of those who had previously kept them ignorant. When Whately arrived in Dublin, the great body of Irish peasantry believed without hesitation whatever

the priests chose to tell them. One result of the national system of education has been to deliver them from the fear of being turned into rats or dogs or cats by the curse of an offended ecclesiastic. But the Protestants of Ireland could not bring themselves to regard the subject from this point of view; and almost to a man refused to co-operate in perhaps the wisest scheme which the Whigs, during their thirty years' tenure of office, have originated.* And the consequence has been, that the Roman Catholics, adopting an opposite course, worked the machine as it was handed to them, so long as their own purpose seemed to be served by it; and, having established over the public mind an influence which ought of right to have fallen to the Church, are now in a condition to force on changes of which the effects will surely be seen by-and-by.

Because of his zeal in favour of mixed education, not less than on account of his anti-Calvinistic and anti-Sabbatarian views in theology, Whately began, and almost to the end continued, his career in Dublin an object of distrust and dislike to the great body of his clergy. He would have willingly removed both feelings had it been possible to do so; indeed, he strove for a while, as well by public addresses as in the intercourse of private life, to convince these gentlemen that there can be real religion where there is no bitterness steady maintenance of the true faith without angry disputations. But, partly because such opinions ran counter to long-cherished prejudices-partly because in this, as in other respects, Whately's manners repelled even where he desired to conciliate-his efforts to allay angry feelings resulted in rendering them more bitter. Hence the discipline which in some measure he succeeded in establishing was one built up, not upon love, but upon


terror. He kept a tolerably tight hand upon curates, whom he could silence by withdrawing from them their licences; and warned off irregular preachers when threatening to invade the diocese. But the incumbents of parishes, secure in their freeholds, set his remonstrances at defiance, and followed their own line as far as the ecclesiastical law ill-defined everywhere, but in Ireland scarcely recognised at all would allow.

Another great objection to Whately was, that he set his face against Protestant missions to Roman Catholics, and placed no confidence whatever in the reality of conversions effected by their means. In this respect his policy differed altogether from that of his predecessor, the learned author of perhaps the ablest book which has ever been written on the subject of the Atonement. But it does not therefore follow, as Mr Fitzpatrick would have us believe, that Archbishop Magee's policy was in his day a false policy. Probably there are not two opinions now, among thoughtful men anywhere, that avowed efforts at proselytising from one form of Christianity to another produce a great deal more of evil than of good. It was not so, however, thirty years ago; and an Archbishop of Dublin, even if he distrusted the system which he found in operation, would have taken care, had he been conversant with more than college life, not to oppose it too abruptly. But here lay one source of Whately's weakness, if we may use the expression, when speaking of a man whose strength of will was indomitable. He knew nothing of human nature, except as it is seen in the halls and colleges of Oxford, and was therefore incapable of concealing, far less of compromising, his own opinions on any subject. Hence the abruptness with which, in this and other ways, he denounced practices dear to the

*The scheme is Lord Derby's scheme. The real thorough-going Whigs can lay no claim to the merit of it.

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