realized his powers as a speaker.) “But when, in 1872, I went to be curate to Oakley (afterwards Dean of Manchester) at St. Saviour’s, Hoxton, Holland used to come and see me there, and I found him greatly attracted to social life in the East End of London.  In 1875 he came, with Edward Talbot and Robert Moberly, and lodged in Hoxton, and went about among the people, and preached in the church.  I have sometimes thought that this may have been the beginning of the Oxford House.”

All through these Oxford years Holland’s fame as an original and independent thinker, a fascinating preacher, an enthusiast for Liberalism as the natural friend and ally of Christianity, was widening to a general recognition.  And when, in April, 1884, Mr. Gladstone nominated him to a Residentiary Canonry at St. Paul’s, everyone felt that the Prime Minister had matched a great man with a great opportunity.

From that day to this, Henry Scott Holland has lived in the public eye, so there is no need for a detailed narrative of his more recent career.  All London has known him as a great and inspiring preacher; a literary critic of singular skill and grace; an accomplished teacher in regions quite outside theology; a sympathetic counsellor in difficulty and comforter in distress; and one of the most vivid and joyous figures in our social life.  It is possible to trace some change in his ways of thinking, though none in his ways of feeling and acting.  His politics have swayed from side to side under the pressure of conflicting currents.  Some of his friends rejoice—­and others lament—­that he is much less of a partisan than he was; that he is apt to see two and even three sides of a question; and that he is sometimes kind to frauds and humbugs, if only they will utter the shibboleths in which he himself so passionately believes.  But, through all changes and chances, he has stood as firm as a rock for the social doctrine of the Cross, and has made the cause of the poor, the outcast, and the overworked his own.  He has shown the glory of the Faith in its human bearings, and has steeped Dogma and, Creed and Sacrament and Ritual in his own passionate love of God and man.

Stupid people misunderstand him.  Wicked people instinctively hate him.  Worldly people, sordid people, self-seekers, and promotion-hunters, contemn him as an amiable lunatic.  But his friends forget all measure and restraint when they try to say what they feel about him.  One whom I have already quoted writes again:  “I feel Holland is little changed from what he was as a schoolboy and an undergraduate—­the same joyous spirit, unbroken good temper, quick perception and insight, warm sympathy, love of friends, kind interest in lives of all sorts, delight in young people—­these never fail.  He never seems to let the burden of life and the sadness of things depress his cheery, hopeful spirit.  I hope that what I send may be of some use.  I cannot express what I feel.  I love him too well.”