e of freedom, devotion,
and awe--for, with unlimited power of sympathy, he was exacting and even
austere in his friendships--the best men of his college, either
Fellows--R. Wilberforce, Thomas Mozley, Frederic Rogers, J.F. Christie;
or old pupils--Henry Wilberforce, R.F. Wilson, William Froude, Robert
Williams, S.F. Wood, James Bliss, James Mozley; and in addition some
outsiders--Woodgate of St. John's, Isaac Williams and Copeland, of his
old College, Trinity. These, members of his intimate circle, were bound
to him not merely by enthusiastic admiration and confidence, but by a
tenderness of affection, a mixture of the gratitude and reliance of
discipleship with the warm love of friendship, of which one has to go
back far for examples, and which has had nothing like it in our days at
Oxford. And Newman was making his mark as a writer. The _Arians_, though
an imperfect book, was one which, for originality and subtlety of
thought, was something very unlike the usual theological writing of the
day. There was no doubt of his power, and his mind was brimming over
with ideas on the great questions which were rising into view. It was
clear to all who know him that he could speak on them as no one else
could.

Towards the end of 1834, and in the course of 1835, an event happened
which had a great and decisive influence on the character and fortunes
of the movement. This was the accession to it of Dr. Pusey. He had
looked favourably on it from the first, partly from his friendship with
Mr. Newman, partly from the workings of his own mind. But he had nothing
to do with the starting of it, except that he early contributed an
elaborate paper on "Fasting." The Oxford branch of the movement, as
distinguished from that which Mr. Palmer represented, consisted up to
1834 almost exclusively of junior men, personal friends of Mr. Newman,
and most of them Oriel men. Mr. Newman's deep convictions, his fiery
enthusiasm, had given the Tracts their first stamp and impress, and had
sent them flying over the country among the clergy on his own
responsibility. They answered their purpose. They led to widespread and
sometimes deep searchings of heart; to some they seemed to speak forth
what had been long dormant within them, what their minds had
unconsciously and vaguely thought and longed for; to some they seemed a
challenge pregnant with danger. But still they were but an outburst of
individual feeling and zeal, which, if nothing more came of it