To My Mother.

To her who loved him best, whom he loved best;
To her, who gave her life to guard, to tend,
To comfort; loving wife, deep-hearted friend,
True comrade, to the threshold of his rest :-
Not with unreasoning worship softly drest

To please his mood, but subtly wise to blend
Large love with tender counsel, to unbend
The anxious brow, and cheer the labouring breast.

Therefore, because to-day the sacred fires

Of Love and Loss burn gently, fragrantly,

I who have drawn his likeness, drawn with tears, Proud tears, and infinite longings, great desires, The loving labour of laborious years

In love, in hope, I consecrate to thee.

PREFACE.

HEN I was beginning to consider the possibility of writing a Memoir of my father, I received the following letter from the Bishop of Durham, to whom a common friend had written saying that he had dissuaded me from attempting it:

AUCKLAND CASTLE,

MY DEAR ARTHUR,

BISHOP AUCKLAND.
Dec. 29, 1896.

I feel very strongly that it would be almost 'impiety' for any one to attempt to write your father's Life but yourself. The work comes to you as a sacred charge. Every one I am sure who has knowledge will feel the same.

Forgive me for writing. It will be a great and difficult work, but it is your work.

Ever yours affectionately,

B. F. DUNELM.

These words, from one of my father's oldest and dearest friends, practically removed any doubts I had entertained on the subject. I accordingly made up my mind to attempt the task. I have been marvellously assisted by certain conditions; (1) by the perfect order in which

my father kept his letters and papers; (2) by the readiness with which his friends and contemporaries contributed their recollections; and (3) by the extreme fulness with which in later days he wrote in his Diary the daily events of his life, so that the account of his Primacy is mainly autobiographical; indeed, the existence of this Diary, which is one of the most complete and candid documents which it has ever been my lot to study, made the relation of the years of his Primacy a comparatively easy task.

I may perhaps say a word further of the Diary: not a quarter of what my father wrote is here given: for many reasons it would be impossible, consistently with the exercise of a seemly discretion, to publish it in full in the present generation; but it is so minute in detail, so frankly outspoken in criticism and appreciation, and reveals so deep a devotion and so eager a character, that I cannot help hoping that it may eventually be possible to give more of it to the world.

Up till the time of his acceptance of the Primacy my father was brought into connection with interesting people, but not with public events; he was not given to wasting much time in ambitious reveries; the work that he was engaged in, the position that he occupied, always, most characteristically, appeared to him to be the most important work and the most momentous position in England. His biography is simply the history of an intensely vivid nature, touching life at many pointsthrough antiquity, history, art, religion, literature and tradition, and throwing itself with equal ardour into all. The day was never long enough for my father, and even at night he lived in fantastic and fiery dreams.

There appeared to be no choice between slowly and gradually evolving an elaborate work, which should be a minute contribution to the ecclesiastical history of the time, and for that my professional life as well as my own capacity afforded little opportunity—and sketching in broad outlines and rapid strokes, with as much living. detail as possible, a biographical portrait. I have therefore not hurried the reader through the earlier years, in order to expand the more eventful scenes of the Primacy, but have endeavoured to let the life reveal the gradual growth in holiness, in purpose, and in wisdom which by degrees of grace fitted my father to wield a great influence, to direct a huge organisation, and to inspire potent ideals. It seemed better to attempt to draw as careful a picture of my father's life and character as possible, and to touch on events through the medium of personality rather than reveal personality through events; and it has seemed the truest piety to preserve as far as possible the due proportions of light and shade in the biography; if the attitude I have adopted may seem almost too detached or critical, I honoured and loved my father too much to be misunderstood by any who knew what our relations were. As to reticence, I hold that I discharge a greater duty by drawing a true picture of a man of intense vigour and decision, of eager life and lively faith, in these uncertain, frivolous and restless days, than if I held my tongue and allowed his radiant example to appeal only to the narrower circle of those whose privilege it was to know and love that stately presence, that commanding look, and that swift and generous spirit while it was still with us on earth.

It need hardly be said that a work of this kind could