Project Canterbury

Dean Church
by D. C. Lathbury

The English Churchman's Library
London: A. R. Mowbray & Co. , 1905

Transcribed by Dr Elizabeth G. Melillo
AD 2000

Chapter II
The Oxford Movement: First Phase

To describe this enterprise - what it was in its inception and what it afterwards became - is to abridge, and so of necessity to injure, Church's own narrative. But his character and history cannot properly be understood by readers to whom the Oxford Movement is little more than a name, and so I have no choice but to put before them the substance of what they would do much better to read in his own words. What was it, then, that in less than the life of a single Parliament had worked a spiritual revolution, had given men new conceptions of truth, new objects for which to live, new ideas of the position and duties which Almighty God had assigned to them? The Oxford Movement was not wholly a child of miracle. The Prayer Book existed, and so long as it was read with an honest desire to ascertain its real meaning, the High Church tradition could not quite die out. But though that tradition had survived, it had done little more. It influenced a man here and there, but in so doing it only separated him from the mass of Churchmen. Those who thought with him were few in number, they had little communication with one another, they had not even a semblance of organisation. The character of the group - if the word can rightly be applied to it - is best seen in the "Advertisement" to The Christian Year. "Next to a sound rule of faith," we read, "there is nothing of so much consequence as a sober standard of feeling in matters of practical religion." The great object of the book is to guard those who need this discipline against the dangers incident to "times of much leisure and unbounded curiosity, when excitement of every kind is sought after with a morbid eagerness." If the purpose of a book could be divined from its effect, never surely was a preface further from the truth. As it turned out, The Christian Year brought to the Church not peace but a sword. It spoke indeed of "soothing," but on men to whom the very idea of the Catholic Church was new its action was to rouse and stimulate. Keble's own hereditary surroundings, indeed, were all in keeping with his preface. "The Kebles," says Church, "were all of them men of the old-fashioned High Church Orthodoxy, of the Prayer Book and the Catechism - the orthodoxy which was professed at Oxford, which was represented in London by Norris, of Hackney; and Joshua Watson; which valued in religion, sobriety, reverence, and deference to authority, and in teaching, sound learning and the wisdom of the great English divines; which vehemently disliked the Evangelicals and Methodists for their poor and loose theology, there love of excitement and display, their hunting after popularity(1)." Yet, within six years of the publication of The Christian Year, its author had preached the sermon on "National Apostasy," had helped to begin the Tracts for the Times, had become, in fact, one of the chief authors of a New Reformation.

Two causes had ministered to a development in itself so unlikely. The first was the changed attitude of the government towards the Church. Down to 1830 the State had left the Church pretty much to herself. If the Church had taken advantage of the indifference on the part of the civil power to mend her own ways, the new spirit that animated the House of Commons after the passing of the Reform Act might not have been actively hostile to her. But her only use of the opportunity had been that of the sluggard, and when the Whig Ministry came into power, with all manner of reforms real or supposed, in their heads, the removal of ecclesiastical abuses held a front place in their plans. Among those abuses, had they been bolder and better informed, would have included the Irish Establishment. But this monstrous injustice was destined to live nearly forty years longer. The ministerial ideas of reform were satisfied by a Bill abolishing ten of the twenty-two Irish sees. A Disestablishment Bill would have roused the latent Protestantism of the country; a Bill to interfere with the internal constitution of the Irish Church disturbed only a small section of the old-fashioned High Churchmen. But it did more than disturb them. It forced them to reconsider their theory of Church authority. So long as the State was content to walk hand in hand with the Church, there was no need to define their mutual relations. But, when the State began to attack the Church, and still more when it was seen that in doing so it could count upon popular support, Churchmen were driven to ask themselves which of the two powers had the first claim on their allegiance. The old supports were failing them. The State, from being the nursing-mother of the Church, was becoming the harshest of step-mothers. The traditional hold of the Church upon the people - so strong no further back than Queen Anne's time - had given place to active hostility. How were Churchmen to meet this double desertion? It was plain that their official defenders were wholly unequal to the burden thus suddenly thrown upon them. Their arguments had the fatal fault of being adapted to a state of things which had already passed away. A government, flushed with its victory in the Reform struggle, and urged by its own most ardent followers to deal with abuses in the Church in the same high-handed fashion, was not likely to be brought to a stand by Episcopal commonplaces. Thus, the old-fashioned High Churchmen would in any case have been driven to explain, and in explaining to reconsider, the arguments on which they had been accustomed to found their claims.

The second cause was the presence of a very unusual personal element. Among the Fellows of Oriel past and present were three men who were destined to shape the course of the ecclesiastical history of England from 1833 until now. They were John Keble, Richard Hurrell Froude, and John Henry Newman. Keble was the eldest of the three - nine years older than Newman, and eleven years older than Froude. His career at Oxford had begun unusually early and had been marked by an unusual distinction. He had been a Scholar of Corpus at fourteen, and a Fellow of Oriel at nineteen. He had taken a "Double First," and had won the Latin and English Essays in the same year. He had remained in Oxford till 1823, the year after Newman's election at Oriel, and had then made up his mind to live the life of a country clergyman - becoming in the first instance his father's curate. "He was," says Church, "a strong Tory, and by conviction and religious temper a thorough High Churchman. But there was nothing in him to foreshadow the leader in a bold and far-reaching movement. He was absolutely without ambition … He had no popular aptitudes and was very suspicious of them." Like others of the same type, he was an alarmed spectator of the growing estrangement of the State from the Church, and felt an increasing dread of the measures to which this estrangement might lead. But no more than others did he seem fitted to take part in any active conflict with the new Erastianism. He "had not many friends and was no party chief." He was to all appearances just "an old-fashioned English Churchman, with a great veneration for the Church and its bishops, and a great dislike of Rome, Dissent, and Methodism."

But just two years before Keble left Oxford, there had matriculated at Oriel a young man who was first to give Keble a new conception of life and purpose, and then to impress this new conception upon the genius of Newman. Richard Hurrell Froude was Keble's pupil till he left Oxford, and went to read with him at his curacy, in the Long Vacation of 1823. The friendship thus formed was of the closest kind, and in the end the disciple counted perhaps for as much in the formation of the teacher's character as the teacher in that of the disciple. Keble "is my fire," he wrote years afterwards, "but I may be his poker." Keble had the knowledge, the sobriety, the caution which Froude wanted, but Froude had the inspiration and the stimulating force without which Keble's powers might have remained unused. Froude's character had not been formed without severe self-discipline. "He was a man," says Church, "of great gifts, with much that was most attractive and noble; but joined with this there was originally in his character a vein of perversity and mischief, always in danger of breaking out, and with which he kept up a long and painful struggle … The self-chastening, which his private papers show, is no passion or value for asceticism, but a purely moral effort after self-command and honesty of character … The basis of Froude's character was a demand, which would not be put off, for what was real and thorough; an implacable scorn and hatred for what he counted shams and pretences … It was as unbearable to him to pretend not to see a fallacy as soon as it was detected, as it would have been to him to arrive at the right answer of a sum or a problem by tampering with the processes." In the first instance Froude was greatly the gainer by his new experience. He needed steadying and Keble steadied him. He needed to learn many things and in Keble he found a teacher. He need to have the "vein of perversity and mischief" brought under control, and, as he came to know Keble well, he saw in him the pattern to which he wished to conform himself. But Froude's was too original and independent a mind to be content with being the mere copy of another. "Keble had lifted his pupil's thoughts above mere dry and unintelligent orthodoxy," and Froude repaid him for the service by imparting something of that courageous arraignment of things and persons from which Keble had shrunk. It was not enough in Froude's judgement to have a "great veneration for the Church and its bishops, and a great dislike of Rome, Dissent, and Methodism," so long as the veneration and the dislike were alike destitute of rational foundation. Why were men to entertain either feeling? What was it in the Church of England that claimed men's devotion? What was it in the Church of Rome or in Dissent that provoked the opposite feeling?

Froude was not long in finding answers to these questions, and when found they led to far-reaching changes in his estimate of his own position and duties. He saw that the claim which the Church of England had on him had nothing to do with her connection to the State. She appealed to him as part of the Catholic Church; consequently her character and claims could not properly be ascertained without fixing at the same time her relation to other parts of the Catholic Church. Froude began to read history with a new curiosity. He was the first to put the Anglican Reformation in the place that properly belongs to it. Keble might have lived content with asserting the catholicity of the English Church and leaving unexplained the wide differences, alike in theory and practice, between her and the rest of Western Christendom. Froude came almost by intuition to see that the Reformation was not what the fancy of Churchmen had pictured it. Poets might sing of "Great Eliza's golden time," and, so long as they confined themselves to the secular history of her reign, there was no need to quarrel with that description. But when they went on to call it "of a pure faith the vernal prime," Froude could from the very first correct them by the evidence of plain facts. "His judgements on the Reformers are not so very different, as to the facts of the case, from what most people on all sides now agree in; and, as to their temper and theology, from what most Churchmen would now agree in. Whatever allowances may be made for the difficulties of their time, and these allowances ought to be very great, and however well they may have done parts of their work, such as the translations and adaptations of the Prayer Book, it is safe to say that the divines of the Reformation never can be again, with their confessed Calvinism, with their shifting opinions, their extravagant deference to the foreign oracles of Geneva and Zurich, their subservience to bad men in power, the heroes and saints of Churchmen(2)."

Taking into account the difference between the two men, Church's measured and judicial condemnation is scarcely less damaging than Froude's wilder and less temperate words. But what was wanted at the moment was something that should arrest attention, something that should make men ask themselves whether the religion in which they had been brought up, the religion which had made heroes and saints of the Reformers, might not after all be mistaken. When the fight is over and the idols are in the dust, there is time to correct and qualify hasty judgements, to put ourselves into the places of those we are criticising, and to think more of what they have helped us to retain and less of what they have caused us to lose. But, when the fight is going on, or rather when it is just beginning, men have to take a shorter way to their end. "In the hands of the most self-restrained and considerate of its leaders, " says Church, "the Movement must anyhow have provoked strong opposition and given great offence. But Froude's strong language gave it a needless exasperation." Exasperation, no doubt, but whether needless or not is another question. It may be that nothing short of strong language would have been effectual. "Froude himself, " says Isaac Williams, "used to defend his startling way of putting facts and arguments on the ground that it was the only way to rouse people and get their attention." Indeed his thoughts were as much in advance of his contemporaries as his words. He "has written a sermon on the duty of contemplating a time when the law of the land shall cease to be co-extensive with the law of the Church." He sees in the irreligious condition of great towns and opening for colleges of unmarried priests, which "would certainly be the cheapest possible way of providing effectually for the spiritual wants of a large population." He had divined long before Newman that the difference between the Anglican and the Roman view of the Eucharist is as nothing compared with the difference between the Anglican and the Protestant view. "Why," he asks, "publish poor Bishop Cosin's tract on transubstantiation? Surely no member of the Church of England is in any danger of overrating the miracle of the Eucharist." He urged Keble to alter, "Not in the hands" into "As in the hands," thirty years before the change was actually made.

In 1826, Froude was elected to a Fellowship at Oriel. "We were in grave deliberation," writes Newman, "till near two this morning, and then went to bed. Froude is one of the acutest and clearest and deepest men in the memory of man." This is the first mention in Newman's correspondence of the friend to whom he was afterwards to write, "It is quite impossible that, some way or other, you are not destined to be the instrument of God's purposes. Though I saw the earth cleave and you fall in, or heaven open and a chariot appear, I should say just the same. God has ten thousand posts of service. You might be of use in the central elemental fire; you might be of use in the depths of the sea." Froude's influence on Newman was as great as his influence upon Keble. But it acted on a very different temperament and so led to far more important results. Keble was greatly changed by his intercourse with Froude, but even Froude could not make him a leader of men. He could and did make him an admirable lieutenant, devoted, self-sacrificing, undaunted. But the strength that was needed to bring forth the Oxford Movement, the genius that was to give it shape and direction, had yet to be found. Froude inspired Newman as he had inspired Keble, and to inspire Newman was to set a new force in motion. The discontent of Keble with things as they were, the clear vision of what they might be that possessed Froude, became, when Newman joined them, a determination to make them what they ought to be. How this third element came to be added has been told in the Apologia pro Vit‰ Su‰. In that wonderful autobiography we read with what feelings Newman regarded the apathy of some, the "imbecile alarm" of others, the decay of the true principles of Churchmanship, the "distraction in the councils of the clergy," and compared "with the Establishment thus divided and threatened, thus ignorant of its true strength," that "fresh and vigorous power" to which the preparation of his History of the Arians has introduced him. In the acts of the great Church of Alexandria - the Church in which Athanasius was bishop, and the battle with Arianism was first fought - "in her triumphant zeal on behalf of the Primeval Mystery to which I had so great a devotion from my youth, I recognised the movement of my spiritual mother. Incessu patuit Dea. The self-conquest of her ascetics, the patience of her martyrs, the irresistible determination of her bishops, the joyous swing of her advance, both exalted and abashed me. I said to myself, 'Look on this picture and on that'; I felt affection for my own Church, but not tenderness; I felt dismay at her prospects, anger and scorn at her do-nothing perplexity. … I saw that Reformation principles were powerless to rescue her. As to leaving her, the thought never crossed my imagination; still I ever kept before me that there was something greater than the Established Church, and that that was the Church Catholic and Apostolic, set up from the beginning, of which she was but the local presence and organ. She was nothing unless she was this. She must be dealt with strongly or she would be lost. There was need of a second Reformation(3)."

Here we see how Froude has acted upon Newman. "It is difficult," says the Cardinal, "to enumerate the precise additions to my theological creed which I derived from a friend to whom I owe so much." But those that he does enumerate tell their own story. "He made me look with admiration towards the Church of Rome(4), and in the same degree to dislike the Reformation. He fixed deep in me the idea of devotion to the Blessed Virgin, and he led me gradually to believe in the Real Presence."

It was in this frame of mind that Newman left England in Froude's company, in December, 1832. But travel brought no change. Throughout the journey England and England alone was in his thoughts. His stay in Rome is only memorable to him because it was there that they began the Lyra Apostolica. "The motto," he says, "shows the feeling of both Froude and myself at the time: we borrowed from M. Bunsen a Homer, and Froude chose the words in which Achilles, on returning to the battle, says, 'You shall know the difference now that I am back again.' " And now the passion to get back again took possession of him. "Especially when I was left my myself, the thought came upon me that deliverance is wrought not by the many but by the few, not by bodies but by persons." When he took leave of Monsignore Wiseman(5) he said that he and Froude had a work to do in England. In Sicily the presentiment grew stronger. It sustained him through weeks of waiting for a ship and through a second illness at Lyons on the way home. On Tuesday, July 9, 1833, he reached England, and on the following Sunday, July 14, "Mr Keble preached the Assize Sermon in the University pulpit. It was published under the title of National Apostasy. I have ever considered and kept the day as the start of the religious Movement of 1833."

The indispensable elements of a great religious change were thus at last brought together - the urgent need and the men who could meet it. The need was patent, for the Church of England was fast settling down into what J. A. Froude long afterwards called a condition of "moral health." "It did not instruct us in mysteries, it did not teach us to make religion a special object of our thoughts, it taught us to use religion as a light by which to see our way along the road of duty." The men were two Fellows of a College and a country curate. They were seemingly quite unfitted for the task they were setting themselves, but Newman was one of them; consequently they were strong in the possession of a faith that took no account of obstacles. "It was time to move," says Newman, "if there was to be any moving at all." And moving there soon was. Within a few days of the Assize Sermon, Newman was able to write to Keble that an Association for the Defence of the Church was already "a fact not a project," though Froude and himself were as yet the only two members. After the meeting at Hadleigh others came in, and in August Newman embarked on a bolder venture and brought out the first number of Tracts for the Times. From that time the idea of an Association languished and the Tracts became the chief instrument of the propaganda. A difference of opinion, which was to grow wider as time went on, was thus early disclosed. The Associationists came to "abominate" the Tracts; the authors of the Tracts to dread the Association. But for some time each man worked at what, in whatever way, happened to please him most, with the result that the Movement in this stage enlisted many who afterwards fell away from it. The Association ended in two addresses to the Archbishop of Canterbury, one of which was signed by some 7,000 of the clergy, and the other by 230,000 heads of families. Documents which found supporters in numbers like these necessarily committed those who signed them to little more than the expression of a widely distributed uneasiness. To some these addresses seemed the turn of the tide, and the two men who in these early days were generally regarded as the real leaders in the effort to revive confidence in the Church as a divine institution - Hugh James Rose and William Palmer - would possibly have been satisfied with what had been done and what they might hope to do on the same lines. But the three Oriel men "were bolder and keener spirits; they pierced more deeply into the real condition and prospects of the times; they were not disposed to smooth over and excuse what they thought hollow and untrue, to put up with decorous compromises and half measures, to be patient towards apathy, negligence, or insolence(6)." They had in them "the temper of warfare." Tracts, Associations, Addresses for a time went on side by side. They had a common purpose, and it was left to time to decide which weapon would serve that purpose best. Time was not long in giving a decision. The "Oxford Tracts" soon became the authoritative expression of the Oxford Movement. Nothing could seem less fitted for the work to be done. Tracts had come to be associated with such titles as those immortalised by Thackeray, "The Washerwoman of Finchley Common," and "The Fleshpots Broken; or, The Converted Cannibal." "But the ring of these early Tracts was something very different from any thing of the kind then known in England. They were clear, brief, stern appeals to conscience and reason, sparing of words, utterly without rhetoric, intense in purpose. They were like the short, sharp, rapid utterances of men in pain and danger and pressing emergency."

The heading of No. 1 struck a note long unfamiliar to the clergy. It was addressed to "the presbyters and deacons of the Church of Christ in England ordained thereunto by the Holy Ghost and the imposition of hands." The opening words were equally unfamiliar - "Speak I must; for the times are very evil, yet no one speaks against them." The substance was new. The writers asks the clergy on what, if the Church is deprived of its "temporal honours and substance," they will rest their claim to the respect and attention of their flocks. "There are some who rest their divine mission on their own unsupported assertion; others who rest it upon their popularity; others on their success; and others who rest it upon their temporal distinctions. This last case has, perhaps, been too much our own. I fear we have neglected the real ground on which our authority is built - our Apostolic Descent."

Other tracts followed, and by the end of 1834 forty-six had been published. They were receive with eager sympathy by some, with "surprise, dismay, ridicule, and indignation" by others. But they were talked about, and they made their way. In Oxford itself they were reinforced by Newman's famous sermons at the four o'clock services at Saint Mary's. "Without those sermons the movement might never have gone on, certainly it would never have been what it was." They supplied the moral quality without which no religious movement can have lasting success. They ministered to that discipline of character which should be the aim of the preacher everywhere, but, in fact, is only the aim of a few at any time, and in the thirties was the aim of hardly any one. And they did this, not only by the keenness of their intellectual insight. "While men were reading and talking about the tracts, they were hearing the sermons; and in the sermons they heard the living meaning and reason and bearing of the tracts, their ethical affinities, their moral standard. The sermons created a moral atmosphere, in which men judged the questions in debate. It was no dry theological correctness and completeness which were sought for. No love of privilege, no formal hierarchical claims urged on the writers. What they thought in danger, what they aspired to revive and save, was the very life of religion, the truth and substance of all that makes it the hope of human society(7)."

For the next five years the record of the movement was one of steady and, at times, triumphal progress. In 1835, Dr Pusey became "fully associated" with it, and at once gave it a position, both in and out of Oxford, which it could not otherwise have obtained. "Mr Froude or Mr R. Wilberforce, or Mr Newman" - it is the Cardinal himself who says it - "were but individuals … but Dr Pusey was, to use the common expression, a host in himself; he was able to give a name, a form, and a personality to what was without him a sort of mob(8)." In one sense, indeed, Pusey was as indispensable to the movement as Newman himself. He was not its author. The gifts, moral and intellectual, which inspired and shaped it in the cradle were not his. Outside a narrow circle, he would probably have done nothing if Newman had not shown him the way. But there came a time when, without him, the movement might have come to an end altogether. From 1839 onwards his mental history presented a growing contrast to that of Newman. "He was a man of large designs; he had a hopeful, sanguine mind; he had no fear of others." So far, it may be said, he was only Newman over again. But "he was haunted by no intellectual perplexities…. If confidence in his position is (as it is) a first essential in the leader of a party, Dr Pusey had it. The most remarkable instance of this was his statement in one of his subsequent defences of the movement, when, too, it had advanced a considerable way in the direction of Rome, that among its hopeful peculiarities was its 'stationariness.' He made it in good faith; it was his subjective view of it(9)." In 1845, and still more in 1851, this subjective view became the sheet-anchor of the Movement, the one conspicuous force which secured its continuance. He alone, perhaps, among its leaders, "never for an instant wavered or doubted about the position of the English Church(10)." What is even more remarkable in him is that he never wavered in his attitude towards the Roman Church. Newman, Keble, even Hurrell Froude, had moments of active hostility to Rome, Pusey never. He was attacked from all quarters because he would not render railing for railing, but he remained immovable. Often as he had to take part in the Roman controversy, he never forgot the debt of Christendom to Rome, or how much those who are not her children have to learn from her. His adhesion to the Movement at once gave a new character to the Tracts. They ceased to be popular; their work in rousing the clergy had been done; it remained for them to supply the learning on which the reformation which their authors had in view must eventually rest. Pusey's own tract on baptism was the first example of the new departure. It is permissible to suspect that from then till the appearance of No. 90 the tracts were only read by professed theologians, or by controversialists seeking matter of offence. But it was by students that Pusey desired to be read. It was for them that he began the Library of the Fathers, for them that he nursed the dream of making Oxford, with its "magnificent foundations," a rival of the Port-Royalists and the Benedictines who had "splendidly redeemed the Church of France in otherwise evil days from the reproach of idleness and self-indulgence." This was his forecast of the future. "The last fear that occurred to him," says Church, with his keen eye for the inner sadness of the situation, "was that within ten years a hopeless rift, not of affection, but of conviction, would have run through that company of friends, and parted irrevocably their course and work in life."

For the moment, however, all went well. The separation between the authors of the Movement and the University authorities was slow in making itself felt. They were at one upon undergraduate subscription to the Thirty-nine Articles, at one in distrust of Dr Hampden. There was opposition, of course, but down to 1839 it was increasingly true that the views of the writers of the tracts were gaining ground every day. In an article in the British Critic for April, 1839, Newman establishes this by quotations from opponents. The Movement has been "the most rapid growth of the hot-bed of these evil days." It is "having the effect of rendering all other distinctions obsolete, and of severing the religious community into two portions, fundamentally and vehemently opposed one to the other." These doctrines have "already made fearful progress." The "hope that their influence would fail is now dead." There are "few towns of note to which they have not extended. They are preached in small towns in Scotland; they obtain in Elginshire, six hundred miles north of London. I found them myself in the heart of the Highlands of Scotland(11)." Well might Newman derive keen satisfaction from such testimonies as these. When in the whole history of the Church had so much been done in six years? Nor was this his only cause of rejoicing; he was thoroughly content with his own position. He believed that, with the principles of the Movement, the very existence of the English Church was bound up. It might live by them or die without them, but, no matter which of these choices it might make, the principles themselves were true.

Nor had Newman any doubt of his new power of making their truth recognised. The Anglican position might not yet be clear, but it was the end and object of the Movement to make it clear. It he were but left alone, and given a fair field and no favour, he was content to be judged by the result. Years afterwards his feeling at this time was thus described by himself: "In the spring of 1939 my position in the Anglican Church was at its height. I had supreme confidence in my controversial status, and I had a great and still growing success in recommending it to others … I claimed in behalf of all who would that he might hold in the Anglican Church a comprecation with the Saints with Bramhall; and the Mass, all but transubstantiation, with Andrewes; or with Hooker that transubstantiation itself is not a point for Churches to part communion upon; or with Hammond that a General Council truly such, never did, never shall, err in the matter of faith; or with Bull that man lost inward grace by the fall; or with Thorndike that penance is a propitiation for post-baptismal sin; or with Pearson that the all-powerful Name of Jesus is no otherwise given than in the Catholic Church. 'Two can play at that,' was often in my mouth, when men of Protestant sentiments appealed to the Articles, Homilies, or Reformers; in the sense that if they had a right to speak loud, I had both the liberty and the means of giving them tit for tat. I thought that the Anglican Church had been tyrannised over by a party, and I aimed at bringing into effect the promise contained in the motto to the Lyra, 'They shall know the difference now.' I only asked to be allowed to show them the difference(12)."

  1. The Oxford Movement. Twelve years, 1833-1845. By R. W. Church, MA, D.C.L. Macmillan, 1891, page 61.
  2. Oxford Movement, page 39.
  3. Apologia pro Vit‰ Su‰, pages 31, 32. Ed. 1890
  4. It must be remembered that this admiration related chiefly to the authoritative temper of the Church of Rome and was consistent - in Froude always and in Newman at that time - with strong dislike to the ends in which her policy was directed.
  5. Afterwards Cardinal, and first Archbishop of Westminster.
  6. Oxford Movement, page 96.
  7. Oxford Movement, page 114.
  8. Apologia, page 137.
  9. Apologia, page 138.
  10. Oxford Movement, page 118.
  11. Three years later, Sydney Smith wrote of "The Puseyites" - "Nothing so remarkable in England as the progress of these foolish people."
  12. This is how it is given in The Oxford Movement, page 236. In the Apologia, ed. 1890, there are some slight verbal differences.

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