eminent victorians-第24节

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on　its　way　and　published　in　the　English　papers。　How　is　it

possible　that　anyone　can　have　done　this？'



The　crushing　indictment　pointed　straight　at　Manning。　And　it　was

true。　Manning　had　done　the　impossible　deed。　Knowing　what　he　did；

with　the　Bishop　of　Birmingham's　two　letters　in　his　pocket；　he　had

put　it　about　that　Newman　had　refused　the　Hat。　But　a　change　had

come　over　the　spirit　of　the　Holy　See。　Things　were　not　as　they　had

once　been：　Monsignor　Talbot　was　at　Passy；　and　Pio　Nono　was

where？　The　Duke　of　Norfolk　intervened　once　again；　Manning　was

profuse　in　his　apologies　for　having　misunderstood　Newman's

intentions；　and　hurried　to　the　Pope　to　rectify　the　error。　Without

hesitation；　the　Sovereign　Pontiff　relaxed　the　rule　of　Roman

residence；　and　Newman　became　a　Cardinal。



He　lived　to　enjoy　his　glory　for　more　than　ten　years。　Since　he

rarely　left　the　Oratory；　and　since　Manning　never　visited

Birmingham；　the　two　Cardinals　met　only　once　or　twice。　After　one

of　these　occasions；　on　returning　to　the　Oratory；　Cardinal　Newman

said；　'What　do　you　think　Cardinal　Manning　did　to　me？　He　kissed

me！'



On　Newman's　death；　Manning　delivered　a　funeral　oration；　which

opened　thus：



'We　have　lost　our　greatest　witness　for　the　Faith；　and　we　are　all

poorer　and　lower　by　the　loss。



'When　these　tidings　came　to　me；　my　first　thought　was　this；　in

what　way　can　I；　once　more；　show　my　love　and　veneration　for　my

brother　and　friend　of　more　than　sixty　years？'



In　private；　however；　the　surviving　Cardinal's　tone　was　apt　to　be

more。。。　direct。　'Poor　Newman！'　he　once　exclaimed　in　a　moment　of

genial　expansion。　'Poor　Newman！　He　was　a　great　hater！'



X



IN　that　gaunt　and　gloomy　building　more　like　a　barracks　than　an

Episcopal　palace　Archbishop's　House；　Westminster；　Manning's

existence　stretched　itself　out　into　an　extreme　old　age。　As　his

years　increased；　his　activities；　if　that　were　possible；　increased

too。　Meetings；　missions；　lectures；　sermons；　articles；　interviews；

letters　such　things　came　upon　him　in　redoubled　multitudes；　and

were　dispatched　with　an　unrelenting　zeal。　But　this　was　not　all；

with　age；　he　seemed　to　acquire　what　was　almost　a　new　fervour；　an

unaccustomed；　unexpected；　freeing　of　the　spirit；　filling　him　with

preoccupations　which　he　had　hardly　felt　before。　'They　say　I　am

ambitious；'　he　noted　in　his　Diary；　'but　do　I　rest　in　my

ambition？'



No；　assuredly　he　did　not　rest；　but　he　worked　now　with　no　arriere

pensee　for　the　greater　glory　of　God。　A　kind　of　frenzy　fell　upon

him。

Poverty；　drunkenness；　vice；　all　the　horrors　and　terrors　of　our

civilisation

seized　upon　his　mind；　and　urged　him　forward　to　new　fields　of

action　and

new　fields　of　thought。　The　temper　of　his　soul　assumed　almost　a

revolutionary

cast。　'I　am　a　Mosaic　Radical；'　he　exclaimed；　and；　indeed；　in　the

exaltation

of　his　energies；　the　incoherence　of　his　conceptions；　the

democratic

urgency　of　his　desires；　combined　with　his　awe…inspiring　aspect

and　his　venerable　age；　it　was　easy　enough　to　trace　the　mingled

qualities　of　the　patriarch；　the　prophet；　and　the　demagogue。　As；

in　his　soiled　and　shabby　garments；　the　old　man　harangued　the

crowds　of　Bermondsey　or　Peckham　upon　the　virtues　of　Temperance；

assuring　them；　with　all　the　passion　of　conviction；　as　a　final

argument；　that　the　majority　of　the　Apostles　were　total

abstainers；　this　Prince　of　the　Church　might　have　passed　as　a

leader　of　the　Salvation　Army。　His　popularity　was　immense；

reaching　its　height　during　the　great　Dock　Strikes　of　1889；　when；

after　the　victory　of　the　men　was　assured；　Manning　was　able；　by

his　persuasive　eloquence　and　the　weight　of　his　character；　to

prevent　its　being　carried　to　excess。　After　other　conciliators

among　whom　was　the　Bishop　of　London　had　given　up　the　task　in

disgust；　the　octogenarian　Cardinal　worked　on　with　indefatigable

resolution。　At　last；　late　at　night；　in　the　schools　in　Kirby

Street；　Bermondsey；　he　rose　to　address　the　strikers。　An

enthusiastic　eye…witness　has　described　the　scene：　'Unaccustomed

tears　glistened　in　the　eyes　of　his　rough　and　work…stained　hearers

as　the　Cardinal　raised　his　hand　and　solemnly　urged　them　not　to

prolong　one　moment　more　than　they　could　help　the　perilous

uncertainty　and　the　sufferings　of　their　wives　and　children。　Just

above　his　uplifted　hand　was　a　figure　of　the　Madonna　and　Child；

and　some　among　the　men　tell　how　a　sudden　light　seemed　to　swim

around　it　as　the　speaker　pleaded　for　the　women　and　children。　When

he　sat　down　all　in　the　room　knew　that　he　had　won　the　day；　and

that；　so　far　as　the　Strike　Committee　was　concerned；　the　matter

was　at　an　end。'



In　those　days；　there　were　strange　visitors　at　the　Archbishop's

House。

Careful　priests　and　conscientious　secretaries　wondered　what　the

world　was　coming　to　when　they　saw　labour　leaders　like　M。r　John

Burns　and　Mr。　Ben　Tillett；　and　land…reformers　like　Mr。　Henry

George；　being　ushered　into　the　presence　of　his　Eminence。　Even　the

notorious　Mr。　Stead　appeared；　and　his　scandalous　paper　with　its

unspeakable　revelations　lay　upon　the　Cardinal's　table。　This

proved　too　much　for　one　of　the　faithful　tonsured　dependents　of

the　place；　and　he　ventured　to　expostulate　with　his　master。　But

he　never　did　so　again。



When　the　guests　were　gone；　and　the　great　room　was　empty；　the　old

man　would　draw　himself　nearer　to　the　enormous　fire；　and　review

once　more；　for　the　thousandth　time；　the　long　adventure　of　his

life。　He　would　bring　out　his　diaries　and　his　memoranda；　he　would

rearrange　his　notes；　he　would　turn　over　again　the　yellow　leaves

of　faded　correspondences；　seizing　his　pen；　he　would　pour　out　his

comments　and　reflections；　and　fill；　with　an　extraordinary

solicitude；　page　after　page　with　elucidations；　explanations；

justifications；　of　the　vanished　incidents　of　a　remote　past。　He

would　snip　with　scissors　the　pages　of　ancient　journals；　and　with

delicate　ecclesiastical　fingers；　drop　unknown　mysteries　into　the

flames。



Sometimes　he　would　turn　to　the　four　red　folio　scrapbooks　with

their　collection　of　newspaper　cuttings；　concerning　himself；　over

a

period　of　thirty　years。　Then　the　pale　cheeks　would　flush　and　the

close…drawn　lips　would　grow　even　more　menacing　than　before。

'Stupid；

mulish　malice；'　he　would　note。　'Pure　lyingconscious；　deliberate

and　designed。'　'Suggestive　lying。　Personal　animosity　is　at　the

bottom　of　this。'



And　then　he　would　suddenly　begin　to　doubt。　After　all；　where　was

he？　What　had　he　accomplished？　Had　any　of　it　been　worthwhile？　Had

he　not　been　out　of　the　world　all　his　life！　Out　of　the　world！

'Croker's　〃Life　and　Letters〃；　and　Hayward's　〃Letters〃；'　he　notes；

'are　so　full　of　politics；　literature；　action；　events；　collision

of　mind　with　mind；　and　that　with　such　a　multitude　of　men　in　every

state　of　life；　that　when　I　look　back；　it　seems　as　if　I　had　been

simply　useless。'　And　again；　'The　complete　isolation　and　exclusion

from　the　official　life　of　England　in　which　I　have　lived；　makes　me

feel　as　if　I　had　done　nothing'。　He　struggled　to　console　himself

with　the　reflexion　that　all　this　was　only　'the　natural　order'。

'If　the　natural　order　is　moved　by　the　supernatural　order；　then　I

may　not　have　done　nothing。　Fifty　years　of　witness　for　God　and　His

Truth；　I　hope；　has　not　been　in　vain。'　But　the　same　thoughts

recurred。　'In　reading　Macaulay's　life　I　had　a　haunting　feeling

that　his　had　been　a　life　of　public　utility　and　mine　a　vita

umbratilis；　a　life　in　the　shade。'　Ah！　it　was　God's　will。　'Mine

has　been　a　life　of　fifty　years　out　of　the　world　as　Gladstone's

has　been　in　it。　The　work　of　his　life　in　this　world　is　manifest。　I

hope　mine　may　be　in　the　next。　I　suppose　our　Lord　called　me　out　of

the　world　because　He　saw　that　I　should　lose　my　soul　in　it。'

Clearly；　that　was　the　explanation。



And　yet　he　remained　sufficiently　in　the　world　to　discharge　with

absolute　efficiency　the　complex　government　of　his　diocese　almost

up　to　the　last　moment　of　his　existence。　Though　his　bodily

strength　gradually　ebbed；　the　vigour　of　his　mind　was　undismayed。

At　last；　supported　by　cushions；　he　continued；　by　means　of　a

dictated　correspondence；　to　exert　his　accustomed　rule。　Only

occasionally　would　he　lay　aside　his　work　to　plunge　into　the　yet

more　necessary　duties　of　devotion。　Never　again　would　he　preach；

never　again　would　he　put　into　practice　those　three　salutary　rules

of　his　in　choosing　a　subject　for　a　sermon：　'（1）　asking　God　to

guide　the　choice；　（2）　applying　the　matter　to　myself；　（3）　making

the　sign　of　the　cross　on　my　head　and　heart　and　lips　in　honour　of

the　Sacred　Mouth；'　but　he　could　still　pray；　he　could　turn

especially　to　the　Holy　Ghost。　'A　very　simple　but　devout　person；'

he　wrote　in　one　of　his　latest　memoranda；　'asked　me　why　in　my

first　volume　of　sermons　I　said　so　little　about　the　Holy　Ghost。　I

was　not　aware　of　it；　but　I　found　it　to　be　true。　I　at　once

resolved　that　I　would　make　a　reparation　every　day　of　my　life　to

the　Holy　Ghost。　This　I　have　never　failed　to　do　to　this　day。　To

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