“No, not new,” he rejoined, and laying his hand on my shoulder, proceeded to say, “What is right is not new: is not righteousness as old as the creation?”
“Then you consider it is right for us to be here,” I ventured to remark.
“Certainly; delighted to see you.”
Some one overhearing this colloquy, observed in a whisper, “He will talk in a different way in different company.” Possibly; but I believe there is force in what I have heard his friends say—he was a man of many-sided sympathy, thoroughly good-natured, fond of approbation, wishing to stand well with everybody, and for the moment sincerely meaning what he said. But he was changeful and inconsistent, saying one day, under an amiable impulse, what it was difficult to reconcile with his conversation another day in different company. I knew little of him personally as a man; but as a preacher, and author, I must say I have derived no small advantage from his sermons and addresses.
Further, in reference to Bishop Wilberforce, remarkable stories were current showing what a marvellous gift of extemporary eloquence he possessed. Archdeacon Sinclair told me that once the Bishop came to a meeting of the National School Society, totally unprepared, and whispered to him: “What points had I better take up?” The Archdeacon mentioned two or three. Wilberforce a few minutes afterwards rose, and delivered a speech on those very points, as if he had spent the morning in preparation. Dean Stanley told me that when the Bishop held a confirmation in the Abbey, he asked, as they walked together up the nave, whether there was any particular subject he would like to have introduced. One was mentioned. Forthwith the Bishop took it up in his address to the confirmed, in a way which led his hearers to suppose he had carefully prepared what he said.
Dr. Guthrie was one of the most genial men I ever knew; full of anecdote up to the brim. Indeed his conversation almost entirely took that form, and his racy way of telling a story gave what he said an irresistible charm. He was far more catholic than many of his brethren, and though he had respect for his ecclesiastical party, his sympathies went far beyond his own circle; and with reference to the Established Church of Scotland, though himself a Free Churchman, he cherished no animosity, and was not indisposed to preach occasionally in the old parish pulpits. His attachment to Evangelical truth was very strong, and for any deviations from it he would listen to no excuse. He visited some of my people at Kensington, and that brought me frequently into his society. How he used to talk of his visits to Mr. Disraeli and the Countess of Beaconsfield, of the wedding of the Marquis of Lorne, when he escorted the children of the family to Windsor Castle, and was especially noticed by Her Majesty, and was addressed as “My Lord” by somebody who thought him a bishop; and of a dinner-party at Argyle Lodge, when he met Mr. Bright, and could hardly get in a word himself, because the great orator would talk so much! The last time I saw him was at breakfast with me at my house, when I think he was more brilliant and merry than usual. He knew I was entertaining thoughts of retirement, and he strongly urged me to relinquish pastoral duties and become an occasional preacher. Moreover he said, “It is better to be too early than too late in this respect. ‘Why do you give up so soon?’ one of Her Majesty’s Ministers once asked me; ‘you have all your wits about you.’ ‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘and if I were to wait, as some do, till my wits are gone, I should never give up at all.’”
An important crisis in the summer of 1872, had occurred in the history of New College. Dr. Halley from age and infirmities, retired from the principalship. Dr. Newth was chosen successor, and to fill up the chair, left vacant by my old friend and tutor, the services of three London ministers were called into requisition. Mr. Binney undertook the Homiletic Class, Dr. Kennedy became Theological Professor in the department of Apologetics, and I was invited to conduct instruction in Historical Theology. My hands were pretty full, but this was an engagement congenial to my taste, and for which I felt I was better qualified than I had been at the time when an invitation was given me to accept the office of principal. [193]
The question of my retirement from the pastorate occupied my thoughts at a later period, and I indicated this in a communication to the Church through my deacons. That communication was met by a warm and earnest request that I would continue at Kensington Chapel a little while longer. I consented to tarry till the end of two years.
About the time just noticed, education in reference to public schools assisted by Government grants was keenly discussed. Those amongst Nonconformists who were disposed to accept State aid in support of schools in which religion was taught were regarded as acting inconsistently with their principles in opposition to State endowment of Christianity. Into that question it is unnecessary to enter here, but I repeat what I urged at the time referred to, that Government aid and Government inspection were co-extensive; that if Government assisted a school, and inquired exclusively into the secular instruction of pupils, the aid bestowed was to be regarded as in aid of that alone. The separation in a school of religious from secular instruction, appeared to me inconsistent with our duty as Christians. In guiding the intellect of the young, an infusion of Gospel truth is, I believe, of essential importance. A declaration to the effect that the Bible should be used in public schools was signed by several hundred Christian ministers, and in that declaration I most cordially joined. The severance of revelation from other fundamental grounds of youthful knowledge was, in my estimation, very mischievous.
Mr. Forster was condemned severely by a large number of Dissenters as being opposed to the interests of Nonconformity. I have good reason for believing that he wished to deal fairly between Church and Dissent. The opinions of all parties had to be consulted, and it was no easy thing for any man in his place to give universal satisfaction. I conversed with him at the time on the subject of his measure, and am persuaded he was honest throughout the whole business. When the strongest feeling against him existed, I know, from what he said to me, that he gave full credit to his opponents for good intentions. Of some friends we both knew, who differed from him widely, he spoke in the kindest terms. When he was regarded as an enemy by some Nonconformists, I was informed he attended a Nonconformist chapel in the country during a summer holiday; and I know he helped the pastor by pecuniary assistance,—that very pastor being my informant. Mr. Forster never lost sympathy with Quakerism. Our common friend, Mr. Braithwaite, a well-known member of that denomination, spoke at his funeral; and an eminent Baptist minister told me of his pleasant visits to Mr. Forster’s residence.