been diffusing, because they were no longer scattered abroad by the direct action of an organised party under ostensible chiefs.  Where, we may ask, is not at this moment the effect of that movement perfectly appreciable within our body?  Look at the new-built and restored churches of the land; look at the multiplication of schools; the greater exactness of ritual observance; the higher standard of clerical life, service, and devotion; the more frequent celebrations; the cathedrals open; the loving sisterhoods labouring, under episcopal sanction, with the meek, active saintliness of the Church’s purest time; look—­above all, perhaps—­at the raised tone of devotion and doctrine amongst us, and see in all these that the movement did not die, but rather flourished with a new vigour when the party of the movement was so greatly broken up.  It is surely one of the strangest objections which can be urged against a living spiritual body, that the loss of many of its foremost sons still left its vital strength unimpaired.  Yet this was Dr. Newman’s objection, and his witness, fourteen years ago, when he complained of the Church of England, that though it had given “a hundred educated men to the Catholic Church, yet the huge creature from which they went forth showed no consciousness of its loss, but shook itself, and went about its work as of old time."[2]

[1] “Collection of Papers connected with the Theological Movement of
    1833.”  By the Hon. and Rev. A.P.  Perceval. 1843.  Second Edition.
[2] “Lectures on Anglican Difficulties,” p. 9.

As the unity of the party was broken up, the fire which had burned hitherto in but a single beacon was scattered upon a thousand hills.  Nevertheless, the first breaking up of the party was eminently disheartening to its living members.  But it was not by external violence that it was broken, but by the development within itself of a distinctive Romeward bias.  Dr. Newman lays his hand upon a particular epoch in its progress, at which, he says, it was crossed by a new set of men, who imparted to it that leaning to Romanism which ever after perceptibly beset it.  “A new school of thought was rising, as is usual in such movements, and was sweeping the original party of the movement aside, and was taking its place” (p. 277).  This is a curious instance of self-delusion.  He was, as we maintain, throughout, the Romanising element in the whole movement.  But for him it might have continued, as its other great chiefs still continue, the ornament and strength of the English Church.  These younger men, to whom he attributes the change, were, in fact, the minds whom he had consciously or unconsciously fashioned and biassed.  Some of them, as is ever the case, had outrun their leader.  Some of them were now, in their sensitive spiritual organism, catching the varying outline of the great leader whom they almost worshipped, and beginning at once to give back his own altering image.  Instead of seeing in their changing minds this reflection