1792-1866
[Sidenote: J. Coleridge’s _Memoir of the Rev. John Keble_.]
“To me both the portraits are full of deep interest” (_these portraits
of Keble, the one in the prime of manhood and the other in old age,
were drawn by Richmond_), “the earlier and the later both--each
brings him back to me as he was; in the earlier, he has some of the
merry defiance he could assume in argument; in the latter, I see the
sad tenderness of his advanced years. Keble had not regular features;
he could not be called a handsome man, but he was one to be noticed
anywhere, and remembered long; his forehead and hair beautiful in all
ages; his eyes, full of play, intelligence, and emotion, followed you
while you spoke; and they lighted up, especially with pleasure, or
indignation, as it might be, when he answered you. The most pleasing
photograph is one in which he is standing by Mrs. Keble’s side; she is
sitting with a book in her hand. The later photographs are to me very
unpleasant. I will attempt no more particular description, for I feel
how little definite I can convey in writing.”
[Sidenote: _The Christian Observer_, 1871.]
“Mr. Keble greeted us, emerging from his little study, the door of
which, as I afterwards noticed, oftener than not, stood open.... His
features, indeed, were familiar to us, as to most people, from the
engraving of Richmond’s first portrait of him, taken in middle life
for Sir John Coleridge. Now the original stood before me, and I saw
at a glance that face and figure had been faithfully portrayed. The
forehead was pale and serene, the hair silvery; doubtless this token
of advancing years must have helped to give softness and refinement to
the features; eyebrows, sprinkled with white, shaded eyes of singular
brilliancy and depth of expression, as ready (I afterwards well knew)
to light up with mirth and mischief while playful talk was going on,
as they were to melt into mournful earnestness when graver topics were
broached. He habitually wore glasses, but used often to take them off
and hold them in his hand when conversing with animation. A dear
and old friend of his has told me that he ‘looked almost boyish till
about fifty, and after that rapidly aged in personal appearance.’
At this time he was in his sixty-first year, healthy and strong and
active.... In appearance he was quite one’s ideal of an old-fashioned
country clergyman, but of one whose Oxford days were still fresh in
his mind; there was a touch of _vieille cour_ in his manner, which
added, I think, to its charm. His voice in speaking was rather low,
and especially so when the subject of conversation was very near his
heart. It often struck me, when listening to him, that without the
slightest effort or aim at effect, he always hit upon the most suitable
and telling words, (and the shortest), in which to clothe his ideas.
This unconscious beauty of language, coupled with the originality and
wisdom of the ideas themselves, riveted them in one’s memory; the look,
too, with which they were uttered, could not be forgotten, and rises
as vividly before my mind’s eye ‘through the golden mist of years’ as
though it belonged to the present, instead of the ‘long ago.’”--1852.
[Sidenote: L. A. Huntingford: private letter.]
“People who went to look at Mr. Keble as a ‘lion’ were, I think,
disappointed to see a very simple old-fashioned clerical gentleman,
with very little manner, and so completely unconscious of self that
as he talked of common things, they were inclined to think as little
of him as he thought of himself. He used to come down early and
stand writing at a side-table till it was quite time for prayers and
breakfast, and then sit down anywhere and, with a little peculiar jerk
of the head and shoulders, read a short ‘Instruction,’ almost as if he
were reading it to himself. Certain people even called his reading bad,
for his voice was weak, and he had a slight cough which never wholly
left him; but he brought out the meaning of Holy Scripture in a manner
which I never heard surpassed. Mr. Keble was of middle height, very
thin, with a splendid forehead, bright eyes which were rather hidden by
his spectacles, and a sweet merry smile. Those who knew him well must
remember the way in which he used to pull himself together, as if he
were a boy obeying a well-known rule to ‘hold up his head.’ His manner
was nervous, so much so that people who were not intimately acquainted
with him were rarely quite at their ease when in his presence. The two
pictures of Mr. Keble by Richmond are both good likenesses; but the
lithograph of the head which was taken from the then-unfinished picture
which, in its completed form, now hangs in Keble College, Oxford, has
caught the peculiar intelligence of the eyes when lighted up with the
eager brightness his friends knew so well. He had the unusual power of
being able to write upon one subject and listen to the discussion of
another at the same time; and he would often glance up from the paper
in which he was apparently immersed, and pushing up his spectacles join
eagerly in the conversation.”