With other remarkable persons, I became intimately acquainted after my removal to Kensington. These I shall notice in their proper place.
In 1833 arose the Puseyite or Tractarian controversy as it was called. Of this a full account is given by Dr. Newman, in his “Apologia”—an account, of course, proceeding from his own point of view. The strife both inside and outside the University of Oxford, where the masters of the Tractarian movement lived and worked, was of the hottest kind; and those engaged in it on both sides, under the influence of party feeling, failed to appreciate each other’s position, and to estimate correctly the tendencies involved. The Anglo-Catholics did not believe they were so near Rome; the staunch Protestants did not calculate on the wonderful effect which the controversy would have in stirring up the latent energies of the Church, and in modifying forms of worship, even amongst Evangelical parties. An amusing story I remember hearing when the famous Tract, “No. 90,” was published. The then Bishop of Winchester (I think) wished to see it, and wrote to his bookseller to forward a copy, but from illegibility of penmanship “_No_ 90” was mistaken for “_No go_”; and the poor bookseller, after inquiring in the Row for a pamphlet with that title, wrote to inform his Lordship, that there was no such tract in the market. The story ran its round, and the Evangelicals pronounced “_No._ 90” “_No go_.”
Dr. Newman condensed within the space of a few years the Romeward tendencies of Christendom during successive ages: starting with Tractarian doctrines, it was consistent for him to become a Roman Catholic in the sequel; and Dr. Pusey, in pausing where he did, never explained the grounds of his practical inconsistency. I felt it my duty to point out the unscriptural character of the Tractarian movement in a course of lectures, afterwards published under the title of “Tractarian Theology.”
I WAS quite satisfied with my position at Windsor and had no thoughts of leaving it, when Dr. Vaughan of Kensington accepted the principalship of Lancashire College, and at the same time overtures were made by his Church to me that I should succeed him in the vacant pastorate. I can truly say that my desires were on the side of remaining where I was. I only wished to know the Divine Master’s will. I felt unwilling to accept what looked like preferment; but after visiting Kensington and preaching there, the path before me appeared pretty plain. I accepted the call I received. “It seems like a dream,” I wrote to my predecessor. “Yes,” he replied; “but it is like Joseph’s—a dream from the Lord.”