SUSPENSION OF THE BRITISH CRITIC? 17 at variance with my recollections, and incredible to my conceptions. Among other startling assertions, he claims to have brought about the suspension of the British Critic,' and so delivered the Church of England from a plague. Had he added that it was he who built Cholderton Church, I could not have been more surprised. Perhaps Sir W. Palmer's statement might be interpreted to mean that, upon my resignation of the editorship, he was consulted by Rivington, who had published for him two important works, and that his advice was to discontinue the periodical. He does not, however, say this straight, so what he does say is only half a revelation, that is, a mystery. His reticence has suggested to me the possibility of Rivington having offered him the editorship, and of his having declined it, which certainly would have been his wisest course. Since writing the above I have seen, in the proof, a letter of my brother James of the date, while passing through the press. He states that, in December 1843, Palmer had just asked him to contribute to the 'British Critic,' of which he was now to be editor. The subjects suggested were not such as my brother James, or the English world, were likely to care much about. They would take some time, and could not be expected by New Year's Day. I am not in a position to say why Palmer made the offer, or why my brother declined it, though I should have been surprised if he had accepted. As I cannot explain the fact I will not comment on it; I only substitute it for the very wide statement that it was Sir W. Palmer who extinguished the 'British Critic.' VOL. I. C If any one had a taste for the employment he could make a curious and instructive collection of the mistakes made by considerable writers, whose names would suffer no disparagement by a few trifling deductions. According to their bent, or to the exigencies of their work, historians either run into details, or dress up pictures of events or of men, or generalise ; and in any case they easily slip off the lines of proportion, congruity, and truth. Few people, indeed, except those who have to criticise and to be criticised, can have any notion of the immense number of errors as to names, dates, and other particulars, current in literature, and passing wholly unquestioned. They do not often signify much : the argument or the narrative runs the same. When the writer himself does not think it worth while to cast his eyes on the printed page before him, he generally takes a true estimate of the accuracy required. I have stated, for example, that by walking up our own street at Derby in 1817 I might have seen three men beheaded for high treason. Several histories say there were only two, and one of the minor Quarterlies of 1883 puts the trial and execution at York. What matters it now? I venture to give a more serious instance of inaccuracy from one of the most painstaking and conscientious writers of our times, the late Dean of Westminster. In his most interesting Historical Memorials of Westminster Abbey,' second edition, page 243, we read :— In St. Edmund's Chapel lies Nicholas Monk, the honest clergyman, who undertook the journey to Scotland to broach SLIPS OF HISTORIANS. 19 the first design of the Restoration to his brother the General, for whom he had always had a brotherly affection,' but who was sent back, with 'such infinite reproaches, and many oaths, that the poor man was glad when he was gone, and never had the courage after to undertake the like employment.' His services, however, were not forgotten, and he was raised to the See of Hereford, and, dying immediately afterwards, was buried in the Abbey. No doubt the General did use some very rough language upon finding that his brother had disclosed his errand to his own Episcopalian chaplain, Dr. Price. He went so far as to say that he was bound to hang anybody that went into his camp and talked of a restoration. But Nicholas Monk, with his daughter, remained two months at Dalkeith Palace on the most affectionate terms with the General, who then dismissed them with 'a very particular kindness.' But the General did more: he gave Nicholas two very critical and difficult missions, and Nicholas undertook and discharged both with great promptitude, and with most important results. Immediately on his arrival at London he went to Sir John Granville, and told him the General could have nothing to say to any communication from Charles; but at the same time stated that there had been matters between himself and the General, upon which he and others had been sworn to secrecy. From Sir John Granville, Nicholas Monk went straightway to Commissary Clarges, the General's representative in town, and communicated to him the assurance, which he was to transmit to Speaker Lenthall, that the General would support Parliament against the military faction. In a very few hours this message set in motion the train of events leading by necessary consequence to the Restoration. Parliament instantly, and most rashly, as it seemed, declared its independence, and so defied the army, against which it had no protection at hand but some ill-officered guards. Lambert, with equal rashness, surrounded the guards, and turned back the members as they were coming to the House. This was all General Monk wanted, and, as soon as he could make the requisite preparation, he crossed the Tweed, and, without the shedding of a drop of blood, restored the Crown. The late Dean's account of the matter is from Clarendon, and, as the historian wrote it very soon after the Restoration, it might be supposed reliable. But the truth was Clarendon hated Monk and all his belongings. He had tried hard to make Monk his tool, on the speculation of the tool running all the risks of failure, and being thrown away in the case of success. Mork had seen through and through him— his back and his iont at once, so to speak-and the result was Clarendon himself was thrown overboard. He was in exile when he wrote the few and hasty words quoted by Dean Stanley. I cannot but suspect that if it had been a philosopher, a statesman, or a man of letters, instead of a simple country parson, the Dean would have given a little more time and thought to the Rector of Plymtree, whose dust is now commingled with that of the Plantagenets in Westminster Abbey. PREACHED AND NOT PUBLISHED. 22 21 CHAPTER IV. PUSEY'S SERMON ON SIN AFTER BAPTISM. IN my remarks upon this famous sermon, chap. xciv., I say, 'I have not read the sermon, nor have I read the explanatory "Tract for the Times" on the subject. I have only my recollections.' In the next page I relate at some length the incident of Samuel Wilberforce coming up suddenly, about a fortnight after the sermon, to ask for an explanation, presenting himself for that purpose, not to Pusey, but to Newman, and after another fortnight making a public and very energetic protest against Pusey's sermon, and the teaching supposed to be associated with it. About two months after the publication of the Reminiscences' I was surprised and, I may add, gratified by receiving the following : South Hermitage, Ascot Priory, Bracknell. MY DEAR MOZLEY,—In your 'Reminiscences,' &c., there is a chapter on a sermon of mine on Heb. vi. 4, 5, 6. You say, I have not read the sermon, nor have I read the explanatory "Tract for the Times" in explanation of it.' Was it then printed? I have not the faintest memory of it, nor of any 'Tract for the Times,' nor of S. W. making a public and very energetic protest against it. Can you tell me anything about any of the three which might recall them to me? For you have criticised the sermon, pointing out what you think was defective, and I have no means of explaining myself. With every good wish, Aug. 2, 1882. Yours very faithfully, |