in 1814.]

The two persons who knew me best at that time are still alive,
beneficed clergymen, no longer my friends. They could tell better than
any one else what I was in those days. From this time my tongue was,
as it were, loosened, and I spoke spontaneously and without effort.
One of the two, a shrewd man, said of me, I have been told, "Here is a
Fellow who, when he is silent, will never begin to speak, and when he
once begins to speak will never stop." It was at this time that I
began to have influence, which steadily increased for a course of
years. I gained upon my pupils, and was in particular intimate and
affectionate with two of our Probationer Fellows, Robert Isaac
Wilberforce (afterward Archdeacon), and Richard Hurrell Froude.[3]
Whately then, an acute man, perhaps saw around me the signs of an
incipient party of which I was not conscious myself. And thus we
discern the first elements of that movement afterward called
Tractarian. The true and primary author of it, however, as is usual
with great motive powers, was out of sight. Having carried off, as a
mere boy, the highest honors of the University, he had turned from the
admiration which haunted his steps, and sought for a better and holier
satisfaction in pastoral work in the country.

[Footnote 3: A brother of James Anthony Froude. Richard Hurrell
Froude's influence on the founding of the Tractarian movement was
strong. He cooperated with Newman in writing the "Lyra Apostolica."
His health had long been delicate, when in 1836 he died. His "Remains"
were published in the following year, with a preface by Newman. Three
of the "Tracts for the Times" were by Froude.]

Need I say that I am speaking of John Keble?[4] The first time that I
was in a room with him was on the occasion of my election to a
Fellowship at Oriel, when I was sent for into the Tower, to shake
hands with the Provost and Fellows. How is that hour fixt in my memory
after the changes of forty-two years; forty-two this very day on which
I write! I have lately had a letter in my hands which I sent at the
time to my great friend, John William Bowden, with whom I passed
almost exclusively my undergraduate years. "I had to hasten to the
Tower," I say to him, "to receive the congratulations of all the
Fellows. I bore it till Keble took my hand, and then felt so abashed
and unworthy of the honor done to me, that I seemed desirous of quite
sinking into the ground." His had been the first name whic