e of Oxford, always alien to mawkish sentiment, penetrated the
whole movement, and maintained in it for many years a certain sanity and
dignity which, while they doubtless prevented it from spreading widely
in the middle class, made the Tractarians respected by men of taste and
education. But these influences could not be permanent. The goodwill of
the Tractarian firm (if we may so express it) has now been acquired by
men with very different aims and methods. The ablest members of the
party are plunging violently into social politics, while the rank and
file in increasing numbers are fluttering round the Roman candle, into
which many of them must ultimately fall.

The progress of the movement between 1833 and 1845 was almost entirely
in the direction of teaching the clergy to 'magnify their office.' The
other part of the scheme, the combat against theological liberalism,
fell quite into the background. The main reason for this was that during
those strange years the theologians so completely dominated Oxford that
liberalism could hardly raise its head, and was despised as well as
hated. Only after Newman's secession could the regeneration of the
University begin. Then indeed liberalism came in like a flood, though it
was a very shallow flood in some cases. This was the day of the
self-satisfied young rationalist, 'ecarte par une plaisanterie des
croyances dont la raison d'un Pascal ne reussit pas a se degager,' as
Renan says--an orgy of facile free thought which after a generation was
chastised by another clerical reaction.

If Newman could have foreseen the victory of his party in the English
Church, he might perhaps have been content to remain in it. We cannot
tell. But it is doubtful whether he would have taken Pusey's place as
leader of the party. Newman's influence was disturbing and subtly
disintegrating to every cause for which he laboured. His startling
candour often seemed like treachery. He could not work with others, and
broke with nearly all his friends, retaining only his disciples. He
confessed himself a bad judge of character. It is doubtful, after all,
whether he was much injured by the jealousy and almost instinctive fear
which he inspired among the Roman Catholic hierarchy. If he had been
allowed to take the place due to his abilities, his character, and his
reputation, what could he have done that he was unable to do at
Edgbaston? We cannot fancy him plunged in crooked ecclesiastical
intrigue, like t