letters of any man of force and wit and strong convictions about the things and persons that he condemns, were made known to the world, they would by themselves have much the same look of flippancy, injustice, impertinence to those who disagreed in opinion with the speaker or writer they are allowed for, or they are not allowed for by others, according to what is known of his general character.  The friends who published Froude’s Remains knew what he was; they knew the place and proportion of the fierce and scornful passages; they knew that they really did not go beyond the liberty and the frank speaking which most people give themselves in the abandon and understood exaggeration of intimate correspondence and talk.  But they miscalculated the effect on those who did not know him, or whose interest it was to make the most of the advantage given them.  They seem to have expected that the picture which they presented of their friend’s transparent sincerity and singleness of aim, manifested amid so much pain and self-abasement, would have touched readers more.  They miscalculated in supposing that the proofs of so much reality of religious earnestness would carry off the offence of vehement language, which without these proofs might naturally be thought to show mere random violence.  At any rate the result was much natural and genuine irritation, which they were hardly prepared for.  Whether on general grounds they were wise in startling and vexing friends, and putting fresh weapons into the hands of opponents by their frank disclosure of so unconventional a character, is a question which may have more than one answer; but one thing is certain, they were not wise, if they only desired to forward the immediate interests of their party or cause.  It was not the act of cunning conspirators; it was the act of men who were ready to show their hands, and take the consequences.  Undoubtedly, they warned off many who had so far gone along with the movement, and who now drew back.  But if the publication was a mistake, it was the mistake of men confident in their own straight-forwardness.

There is a natural Nemesis to all over-strong and exaggerated language.  The weight of Froude’s judgments was lessened by the disclosure of his strong words, and his dashing fashion of condemnation and dislike gave a precedent for the violence of shallower men.  But to those who look back on them now, though there can be no wonder that at the time they excited such an outcry, their outspoken boldness hardly excites surprise.  Much of it might naturally be put down to the force of first impressions; much of it is the vehemence of an Englishman who claims the liberty of criticising and finding fault at home; much of it was the inevitable vehemence of a reformer.  Much of it seems clear foresight of what has since come to be recognised.  His judgments on the Reformers, startling as they were at the time, are not so very different, as to the facts of the case, from what