turned to your work; and only were roused from it two hours later,
when a confused noise of grief and terror in the quadrangle below
attracted your attention, and you saw the dead bodies of Gaisford and
Phillimore borne past your window from their 'watery bier' at Sandford
Lasher."

On Advent Sunday, December 1, I saw and heard Dr. Pusey for the first
time. He was then in broken health; but he gathered all his physical and
mental energies for a great sermon on "The Responsibility of Intellect
in Matters of Faith." The theme of this sermon was that Intellect is a
great trust confided to us by God; that we are responsible to Him for
the use of it; and that we must exercise it in submission to His
revealed Will. What He has declared, that it is our duty to believe. Our
Lord Himself had uttered the most solemn warning against wilful
unbelief; the Athanasian Creed only re-echoed His awful words; and the
storm which assailed the Creed was really directed against the revealed
Truth of God. "This tornado will, I trust, by God's mercy, soon pass; it
is a matter of life and death. To remove those words of warning, or the
Creed because it contains them, would be emphatically to teach our
people that it is _not_ necessary to salvation to believe faithfully the
Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ, or in One God as He has made
Himself known to us."

Immediately after delivering himself of this great apology for the
Faith, Pusey went abroad for the benefit of his health, and did not
return to Oxford till the Summer Term. I well remember the crowd of
ancient disciples, who had missed their accustomed interview at
Christmas, thronging his door in Christ Church, like the impotent folk
at the Pool of Bethesda.

Another reminiscence, and of a very different kind, belongs to my first
Term. Dean Stanley had been nominated as Select Preacher, and the
old-fashioned High Churchmen made common cause with the Low Churchmen to
oppose his appointment. There was a prodigious clamour, but Dr. Pusey
held aloof from the agitation, believing--and in this he was
conspicuously right--that "opposition would only aggravate the evil by
enlisting the enthusiasm of the young." The vote was taken, in an
unusually crowded Convocation, on the 11th of December. It was a
noteworthy and rather an amusing scene, and was well described by an
eyewitness.[14] "Oxford was fairly startled from the serenity which
usually marks the fag-end of the Michaelmas Term by a su