perhaps they had never
been very near. Tennyson's theology was that of Maurice, whom Hawker
came to regard as an arch-enemy of Catholic truth. On one ground they
both met in later life--when they chose the subject of the Holy Grail
for poetic treatment; and on this ground the lesser poet beat the
greater, as Tennyson himself frankly acknowledged. Yet both in their
different ways lived near to the spirit that is typified by the Grail;
but the one abode in solitude on his wild Cornish cliffs and the other
lived in the blaze of popular fame, visited and loved by the greatest
in the land. Who shall say that Hawker's life, after all, was not the
nearest to his best ideals? Morwenstow vicarage is curious for its
chimneys, which Hawker himself designed from church-towers in his
neighbourhood and at Oxford. The church and vicarage stand in
loneliness; there is no central village at Morwenstow, but the
residences are scattered about the swelling downs and high-banked
lanes. At the entrance to the graveyard is the lich-gate and mortuary,
where many wrecked seamen were taken for burial. Such burials recall
the unforgettable incident that occurred during the conveyance of one
poor mangled body from the shore. "It was dark, and the party of
bearers, with the Vicar at their head, were making their way slowly up
the cliff by the light of torches and lanterns, when suddenly there
arose from the sea three hearty British cheers. A vessel had neared
the shore, and the crew, discovering by night-glasses what was taking
place, had manned their yards to greet the fulfilment of duty to a
brother mariner's remains." Morwenstow is really Morwenna-stow,
Morwenna being a grand-daughter of Brychan, and thus belonging to a
famous Welsh family of saints. The church is therefore a Celtic
foundation, not Saxon as Hawker believed; he was always a little shaky
in such details. In some maps and old local signposts the name is
still written Moorwinstow, and was anciently Morestowe. Probably the
earliest relic in the church itself is the font, which appears to
belong to the tenth century; three typical Norman pillars support the
northern arcade of the roof, and there is a very fine Norman door at
the south porch. The Vicar loved to interpret the zigzag moulding as
the "ripple of the lake of Gennesareth, the spirit breathing upon the
waters of baptism"; he was doubtless more correct in reading a
symbolic meaning into the carved vine that creeps from the chan