with others of earlier date, General Kingsley, Governor of Fort William, colonel of the 20th Regiment, who fought at the battle of Minden; and among the family papers there are commissions with the signature of the reigning authorities. He had himself, at one time, thought of the army as a profession, and had spent much time as a boy in drawing plans of fortifications; and after he took holy orders it was a constant occupation to him, in all his walks and rides, to be planning fortifications. There is scarcely a hill-side within twenty miles of Eversley, the strong and weak points of which in attack and defence during a possible invasion, he has not gone over with as great an intensity of thought and interest as if the enemy were really at hand; and no soldier could have read and re-read Hannibal's campaigns, Creasy's Fifteen decisive battles, the records of Sir Charles Napier's Indian warfare, or Sir William's magnificent history of the Peninsular War, with keener appreciation, his poet's imagination enabling him to fill up the picture and realize the scene, where his knowledge of mere military detail failed. Hence the honour he esteemed it to be allowed to preach to the troops at Aldershot, and to lecture to military men there and at Woolwich. His eyes would kindle and fill with tears as he recalled the impression made on him on Whit Sunday, 1858, by the sound heard for the first time, and never to be forgotten, of the clank of the officers' swords and spurs, and the regular tramp of the men as they marched into church, stirring him like the sound of a trumpet. He lectured this year, too, to the troops in the camp on Cortez. He was also asked by Mrs. William Napier to bless the new colours which she presented to her father's old regiment, the 22nd, of which Sir Charles Napier himself had spoken when he, as its distinguished colonel, presented colours to the 1st battalion some years before:

"That brave regiment which won the battle of Meanee-won the battle of Hydrabad-won Scinde for England; . . . . the regiment which stood by the King of England at Dettingen, stood by the celebrated Lord Peterborough at Barcelona; and into the arms of whose grenadiers the immortal Wolfe fell on the Heights of Abraham. Well may I exult in the command of such a regiment." (Life of Sir Charles Napier.)

True to his Colours.

49

After the ceremony, Mrs. Napier went round the ranks, among which were many old veterans who had survived from the great Indian battles, in which her father commanded them in the field, and introduced Mr. Kingsley to them. That too was a red letter day in his calendar, as he called it. He camped out a night this summer with the Guards who were under canvas on Cove Common. His two sermons in camp brought many officers over to Eversley Church, and led to the formation of friendships which were very dear to him. During the earlier years of the Staff College, Sandhurst, of which his valued friend General William Napier was commandant, he was often invited to mess, and was received with a marked respect, which did as much honour to his hosts as to their guest. That he never shrunk from showing his colours, the following reminiscence from one who was present will testify:

"We had among us one or two so-called 'advanced thinkers,' men who were inclined to ridicule religion somewhat. I remember once the conversation at mess took that direction, and Mr. Kingsley stopped it at once and for ever in the pleasantest, and at the same time most effectual manner, by pointing out how unmanly and ungenerous it was to endeavour to weaken a faith which was a trusted support to one's friends. He said it was impossible to use arguments of this kind without causing pain to some, and even if a man could hope to produce conviction, it could only be by taking from his convert much of the present joy of his life. Would any brave man desire to do that for the mere sake of a rhetorical triumph? There was the regular little apology, Forgot for a moment that there was a clergyman at the table,' &c.

"All right, never mind, but you must not apologise on that ground. We are paid to fight those arguments as you soldiers are to do another sort of fighting, and if a clergyman is worth his salt, you will always find him ready to try a fall with you. Besides, it is better for your friends, if they are to have the poison, to have the antidote in the same spoon.""

But while the army called out his sympathies, the Church made demands on him which were as readily responded to, as the next letter from the Rev. George D. Boyle, now Vicar of Kidderminster, who was among the many visitors at the rectory in 1858, will show :

VOL. II.

E

SUMMER HILL, KIDDERMINSTER, November 20, 1875.

"MY DEAR MRS. KINGSLEY,

6

"My very busy life, and a condition of health hardly yet equal to it, must plead my excuse for having left your letter too long unanswered. I grieve very much to say that some to me inestimable letters on the subject of orders and duties of clergymen, were lent by me some years ago to a friend now dead, and I was never able to discover where they were from his executors. I lament this the more as they would have shown in a marvellous degree that warm power of sympathising with men perplexed by the anxious questions of twenty years ago, which you know so well was the distinctive mark of your loved and honoured husband. In 1848, soon after the Saint's Tragedy' appeared, Mr. Kingsley came to Oxford. I saw him first at Mr. Powles' rooms, and well remember his warm eulogy of Past and Present,' and his wonderful recitation of some poetry. But it was at poor C. B.'s, in a gathering of young men, all ardent admirers of his poetry, that I first really knew something of the strange power that he was to exercise over many minds in years to come. The conversation led by John Conington turned upon the future of the working classes, and we were all after .some time spell-bound by the consuming energy of his pathetic words. I saw him again at J. A. Froude's; and few readers of 'Yeast,' which soon began to appear in 'Fraser,' were more influenced by its magic than I was. Two years afterwards I was Percy Smith's guest at Eversley. The long walk on the heath, the discussion arising out of Alton Locke,' and the marvellous effect of a sermon on 'Jeremiah,' afterwards printed, I think, in National Sermons,' are among my most cherished recollections. Some years later I ventured to recall myself to him in a time of great perplexity, as to inspiration and the work of the ministry, and no casuist could ever have entered into the doubts and difficulties of one anxious to work and yet shrinking from unfaith, more lovingly than he did. It has always been to me a very deep regret that we met so seldom, for I felt what J. C. Hare says somewhere of Arnold, that to talk with him was like stepping out of the odours of an Italian Church to the air and breath of a heathery moor. One sentence in one letter is graven on my mind. 'You dislike the tone of officiality of the clergy now. When you have been eighteen years in orders you will detest it. But is that a reason for skulking from the war which all men should wage, but which Christ's servants can do better than others? It is a comfort often to feel there is one little spot, the parish, to which thoughts and prayers are for ever turning.' It is almost an impertinence in me to write in this way to you, but I retain a very vivid recollection of

Fresh Moorland Air.

51

your and his kindness, and I can assure you few days pass without something to recall to me the noble life and work of your husband.

"I have in my mind now his own words of poor Mansfield, 'happy those who knew thee in this life, happier they who shall know thee in the life to come.'

"Dean Stanley was here with me in July last, and it was a real pleasure to hear his glowing words as to the effect his (Canon Kingsley's) too short occupation of the pulpit of the Abbey had made. Let me add one testimony of a man of the world:- I went as you told me to hear Kingsley preach; you were right. That man believes, and he sent me to my Bible to read and pray.'

"I am, dear Mrs. Kingsley,

"Very truly yours,

"GEORGE D. BOYLE."

The impression of "freshness of the moorland air," which Mr. Boyle mentions, has been often spoken of by friends, women as well as men, who knew him at this period :

"I can never forget," said Lady, "the impression he made upon me when I first met him about twenty years ago. I feel it impossible to convey it, as little can I try to describe a scent or a tone of music. It was like a touch of fresh life to one's spirit. It was like the freshness of a mountain breeze, laden with the richness of many moorland flowers, and sending one on one's way with joy. It seemed to set in motion all that was in one of high and noble aspiration! His manifold nature, so high, so rich, so broad, breaking in upon the monotony of life, helped one to rise out of the dull commonplace of a lower level. With him one looked around upon this world with new eyes, for he was artist, poet, philosopher-all in one. I might add that he was much more, for his knowledge was so great and varied; but it was as an artist in temperament and soul that he chiefly struck me. With him one could look into the deeps of our great human nature, and feel oneself understood; with him one looked above to the Father of our spirits, and gained fresh inspiration to love and to work. He asked me one day to sing to him. I sang that wonderful song, 'Che faro senza Euridice.' It was too much for him. It sent him out of the room to hide his emotion. I then knew what was the only thing he could not bear. . . He is spared that bitter cup. Rare and far between were my opportunities of meeting him; but I valued a good talk with Charles Kingsley,' more than most of the other good things of life. Some of his

words will ever remain in my memory; and when he went away to his home in Heaven I felt what a great presence had left this world."

Early this year his poems were published, and among them "Santa Maura,” which had a powerful effect on thoughtful people; the story being so little known.

"I am delighted," he says to Mr. Maurice, "that you are satisfied with 'St. Maura.' Nothing which I ever wrote came so out of the depths of my soul as that, or caused me during writing (it was all done in a day and a night), a poetic fervour such as I never felt before or since. It seemed to me a sort of inspiration which I could not resist ; and the way to do it came before me clearly and instantly, as nothing else ever has done. To embody the highest spiritual nobleness in the greatest possible simplicity of a young village girl, and exhibit the martyr element, not only free from that celibate element which is so jumbled up with it in the old myths; but brought out and brightened by marriage love. That story, as it stands in the Acta SS., has always been my experimentum crucis of the false connection between martyrdom and celibacy. But enough of this selfish prosing. . I have no

novel in my head just now. I have said my say for the time, and I want to sit down and become a learner, not a teacher, for I am chiefly impressed with my own profound ignorance and hasty assumption on every possible subject.

"I was sorry not to see you in town, though I only came for the pleasure of seeing you, and not on any business at all. I longed, too, to see Mrs. Maurice, but was afraid of pressing it to the very lovely person who opened the door, and at whom, I hope, I did not stare too much, as she was just one of my Grace Harvey ideals. I hope her mind is as fair as her face, for the sake of her master and mistress."

The volume of poems led to his first communication with Dr. Monsell, who writes:

"REV. AND DEAR SIR,

GULVAL VICARAGE, PENZANCE, April 14, 1858.

"I have read with wondrous delight your beautiful book of poetry just come out, and thank you most sincerely for a great deal of it as a source of very pure pleasure, and a great deal of it as very deep and earnest teaching in holy things. One poem especially I thank God for, that entitled 'St. Maura.' I could wish that sent out into the world