During the first years of my residence at Oriel, tho proud of my
college, I was not quite at home there. I was very much alone, and I
used often to take my daily walk by myself. I recollect once meeting
Dr. Copleston, then Provost, with one of the Fellows. He turned round,
and with the kind courteousness which sat so well on him, made me a
bow and said, _Nunquam minus solus, quam cum solus_. At that time,
indeed (from 1823), I had the intimacy of my dear and true friend Dr.
Pusey, and could not fail to admire and revere a soul so devoted to
the cause of religion, so full of good works, so faithful in his
affections; but he left residence when I was getting to know him
well. As to Dr. Whately[2] himself, he was too much my superior to
allow of my being at my ease with him; and to no one in Oxford at this
time did I open my heart fully and familiarly. But things changed in
1826. At that time I became one of the tutors of my college, and this
gave me position; besides, I had written one or two essays which had
been well received. I began to be known. I preached my first
University sermon. Next year I was one of the public examiners for the
B. A. degree. In 1828 I became vicar of St. Mary's. It was to me like
the feeling of spring weather after winter; and, if I may so speak, I
came out of my shell. I remained out of it until 1841.
[Footnote 1: From the "Apologia pro Vita Sua."]
[Footnote 2: Richard Whately, Bampton lecturer at Oxford in 1822;
principal of St. Albans Hall in 1825; afterward Archbishop of Dublin;
best known for his "Logic" and "Christian Evidences." When Newman met
him, he was already famous for his "Historical Doubts Relative to
Napoleon Bonaparte," which had been published in 1814.]
The two persons who knew me best at that time are still alive,
beneficed clergymen, no longer my friends. They could tell better than
any one else what I was in those days. From this time my tongue was,
as it were, loosened, and I spoke spontaneously and without effort.
One of the two, a shrewd man, said of me, I have been told, "Here is a
Fellow who, when he is silent, will never begin to speak, and when he
once begins to speak will never stop." It was at this time that I
began to have influence, which steadily increased for a course of
years. I gained upon my pupils, and was in particular intimate and
affectionate with two of our Probationer Fellows, Robert Isaac
Wilberforce (afterward Archdeacon), and Richard Hurrell Froude.[3]
Whately then, an acute man, perhaps saw around me the signs of an
incipient party of which I was not conscious myself. And thus we
discern the first elements of that movement afterward called
Tractarian. The true and primary author of it, however, as is usual
with great motive powers, was out of sight. Having carried off, as a
mere boy, the highest honors of the University, he had turned from the
admiration which haunted his steps, and sought for a better and holier
satisfaction in pastoral work in the country.
[Footnote 3: A brother of James Anthony Froude. Richard Hurrell
Froude's influence on the founding of the Tractarian movement was
strong. He cooperated with Newman in writing the "Lyra Apostolica."
His health had long been delicate, when in 1836 he died. His "Remains"
were published in the following year, with a preface by Newman. Three
of the "Tracts for the Times" were by Froude.]
Need I say that I am speaking of John Keble?[4] The first time that I
was in a room with him was on the occasion of my election to a
Fellowship at Oriel, when I was sent for into the Tower, to shake
hands with the Provost and Fellows. How is that hour fixt in my memory
after the changes of forty-two years; forty-two this very day on which
I write! I have lately had a letter in my hands which I sent at the
time to my great friend, John William Bowden, with whom I passed
almost exclusively my undergraduate years. "I had to hasten to the
Tower," I say to him, "to receive the congratulations of all the
Fellows. I bore it till Keble took my hand, and then felt so abashed
and unworthy of the honor done to me, that I seemed desirous of quite
sinking into the ground." His had been the first name which I had
heard spoken of, with reverence rather than admiration, when I came up
to Oxford. When one day I was walking in High Street with my dear
earliest friend just mentioned, with what eagerness did he cry out,
"There's Keble!" and with what awe did I look at him! Then at another
time I heard a Master of Arts of my college give an account how he had
just then had occasion to introduce himself on some business to Keble,
and how gentle, courteous, and unaffected Keble had been, so as almost
to put him out of countenance. Then, too, it was reported, truly or
falsely, how a rising man of brilliant reputation, the present Dean of
St. Paul's, Dr. Milman, admired and loved him, adding, that somehow he
was strangely unlike any one else. However, at the time when I was
elected Fellow of Oriel, he was not in residence, and he was shy of me
for years, in consequence of the marks which I bore upon me of the
Evangelical and Liberal schools, at least so I have ever thought.
Hurrell Froude brought us together about 1828; it is one of the
sayings preserved in his "Remains"--"Do you know the story of the
murderer who had done one good thing in his life? Well, if I was ever
asked what good thing I had ever done, I should say I had brought
Keble and Newman to understand each other."
[Footnote 4: Keble, one of the chief promoters of the Oxford movement,
will long be remembered as author of "The Christian Year," published
in 1827. For ten years he was Professor of Poetry at Oxford. Three of
the "Tracts for the Times" were by him. He was Newman's senior by
eight years.]