y mind. I had fierce
thoughts against the Liberals.

It was the success of the Liberal cause which fretted me inwardly.
I became fierce against its instruments and its manifestations. A
French vessel was at Algiers; I would not even look at the tricolour.
On my return, though forced to stop a day at Paris, I kept indoors
the whole time, and all that I saw of that beautiful city, was what I
saw from the Diligence. The Bishop of London had already sounded me
as to my filling one of the Whitehall preacherships, which he had
just then put on a new footing; but I was indignant at the line which
he was taking, and from my steamer I had sent home a letter declining
the appointment by anticipation, should it be offered to me. At this
time I was specially annoyed with Dr. Arnold, though it did not last
into later years. Some one, I think, asked in conversation at Rome,
whether a certain interpretation of Scripture was Christian? it was
answered that Dr. Arnold took it; I interposed, "But is _he_ a
Christian?" The subject went out of my head at once; when afterwards
I was taxed with it I could say no more in explanation, than that I
thought I must have been alluding to some free views of Dr. Arnold
about the Old Testament:--I thought I must have meant, "But who is to
answer for Arnold?" It was at Rome too that we began the Lyra
Apostolica which appeared monthly in the _British Magazine_. The
motto shows the feeling of both Froude and myself at the time: we
borrowed from M. Bunsen a Homer, and Froude chose the words in which
Achilles, on returning to the battle, says, "You shall know the
difference, now that I am back again."

Especially when I was left by myself, the thought came upon me that
deliverance is wrought, not by the many but by the few, not by bodies
but by persons. Now it was, I think, that I repeated to myself the
words, which had ever been dear to me from my school days, "Exoriare
aliquis!"--now too, that Southey's beautiful poem of Thalaba, for
which I had an immense liking, came forcibly to my mind. I began to
think that I had a mission. There are sentences of my letters to my
friends to this effect, if they are not destroyed. When we took leave
of Monsignore Wiseman, he had courteously expressed a wish that we
might make a second visit to Rome; I said with great gravity, "We
have a work to do in England." I went down at once to Sicily, and the
presentiment grew stronger. I struck into the middle of the island,