From the little weight Father Spencer laid upon human learning in the work of conversion, one would be tempted to suppose he undervalued what he did not possess. No greater mistake could be made. He was a Cambridge first-class man, and must therefore be a good mathematical and classical scholar. He spoke Italian and French almost without a grammatical fault, and conversed very well in German. He was well read in the English Protestant divines, and knew Catholic theology with accuracy, and to an extent which his academical course would not lead us to expect. It may be said that his youth and manhood were spent over the pages of the best English writers, and in the company often of the best living authors. Althorp and Spencer House were famous for their literary coteries, and the son of an earl who patronized men of talent, and gave unmistakable proofs of great talent himself, was not one to let such opportunities pass without profit.
He trusted little, however, to the sway of intellect, and put his hope in fervent petitions for divine grace. He told Dr. Wiseman that he should apply his mind to something more practical than Syriac manuscripts, or treatises on geology, and that he would rather see him taken up with what suited a priest on the English mission as it then was. The rector, of course, took the rebuke as humility dictated; but we should certainly be sorry that he had not written his Connexion between Science and Revealed Religion, and his Lectures on the Eucharist. Spencer, to be sure, was mistaken in this; but the idea gave a bent to his mind, which he could hardly be expected to change when hampered with the work of a parish.
They who knew him well can give testimony to his high attainments, and all who ever heard him speak of himself can bear a more ample testimony still to the very low opinion he had of his own acquirements. It is no wonder that he wrote no books; the little he did publish in the way of newspaper letters and sermons during his last years in West Bromwich, did not produce much apparent effect. It is not our province to review these here, but it is well to say that the sermons rank far above his spoken ones in point of style and matter, especially the French sermon he preached in Dieppe in 1838.
The prayers, to which he chiefly trusted for the conversion of his countrymen, did not bring much evident gain. Others reaped what he sowed in this way, and he tells us in the Dieppe sermon that during a confirmation Dr. Walsh gave in that year he had 600 new converts to impose hands upon.
His field at this time was confined mostly to his conversation and example; to both of which his name and reputation added something in the eyes of the world. These gave him leave to speak at least, and procured him listeners where other priests would not obtain a hearing. And he had no small power in word and example, as all who knew him are aware, and a few incidents may serve to illustrate.
As to his conversation, its peculiar charm consisted in the importance of its drift, and the nice sweet humour by which he rendered it agreeable. Besides, it may be safely said, that there scarcely ever was a man so happy in his illustrations, or in the homely way in which he put an argument, or answered an objection. This last property can be seen from the following passage, which is quoted from one of his letters to a newspaper:—
"I was once attacked by a stanch Church of England man, who had been an old sailor, and had lost an arm in the service, for what he thought was unworthy of my character and family, leaving my colours and changing sides. I answered him thus: Suppose you, my friend, had entered a ship bearing the King of England's flag and pennant, and gone out and fought many a battle against French cruisers, but then found out by chance that the captain of the ship was an outlawed pirate, who had no right to the colours which he wore, and was making you fight for himself, not for your king, would you let me call you a deserter if the next time you came within hail of a true king's ship you jumped overboard and swam to her? The good sailor seemed to understand me, and said no more about leaving my colours."
It was remarked that very few ever went to speak with him in earnest about their soul with any kind of docility, whom he did not succeed in bringing into the Church. Then his example was a continual sermon. He preferred the poor, not as poor wretches on whom he thought it was heroic to spend a few kind words of mawkish pity, but, in order to make them feel as if they were his brothers and sisters. He would come into their hovels, sit down with them, and even take a cup of tea there, which he might have refused at a richer place. They represented to him the person of Jesus Christ, who said, "The poor you have always with you," as a substitute for Himself.
His patience was no less wonderful. One day he was walking with a sort of bag on his shoulder, when an insolent fellow came out before him and spat in his face. His housekeeper was with him, helping to carry some articles, for he was then going to say mass in one of the little places he had opened near Bromwich. She of course fired with indignation at once, and said: "You wicked man! how dare you spit in the face of Lord Spencer's son, and he such a good gentleman? "Mr. Spencer took out his handkerchief, wiped his face, and only said to the housekeeper: "And how dare you be angry? I am proud of being treated as my dear Lord was;" and went on his way as if nothing had happened. He did not even allude to it again.
He was also very abstemious, and never took wine or spirits for a number of years; indeed, he may be said to have tasted none except as medicine since he became a Catholic, and for sometime before. His bishop told a very curious anecdote about this. Father Spencer took very little sleep, and in fact he so shortened his time of rest that often, when returning home from a sick call, he would be nodding asleep up the street, and walk like a man who had taken "a little more than was good for him." He was reported to the bishop as being seen in this state. The bishop was amused first, and then surprised; but when he found out the cause, notwithstanding that he was edified, he made the good priest sleep a little longer every night. This only shows how captious were the people he had to deal with, and how easily they might have been scandalized. Yet he was venerated by all Catholics as a saint, and Protestants began to respect him after some time as a really good man, and a server of the Lord according to his conscience. The opinion of his sanctity was not merely superficial hearsay; his brother priests, who knew him most intimately, and were not the persons to take the appearance of holiness for the reality, are all of one opinion, that his life was the life of a great saint. A student writes to Father Spencer's assistant, Rev. Mr. Elves, in 1838, from Rome, in the following terms: