Bishop Jacobson's feelings with regard to his own loss:

'If I were actuated by selfish motives I should unfeignedly regret, but for the sake of the Church and nation I truly rejoice at your preferment to Chichester. But oh! how I shall miss you as a counsellor and a guide, on whom I had hoped thoroughly to depend. Trembling as my heart was before, it seems more than ever ready now to sink within me. But I know you will always let me have the advantage of your experience and knowledge when I need it. I wish you would find time, before your avocations become too pressing, to set down in a list for me the names of the best clergy and laity in the diocese, good men, irrespective of their opinions, on whom you think I may rely.'

Such expressions of confidence and pleasure were no doubt cheering, but nothing could make the wrench other than a painful one which was to separate the people from their pastor, who for thirtyfive years had 'fed them with a faithful and true heart.' During that period-a large slice out of the life of any man-which he had spent among the people of Middleton, he had won their confidence and affection in no ordinary degree; they had come to trust him and lean upon him, and his life had been so bound up with theirs that his removal from them seemed almost impossible.

The feeling cannot, perhaps, be better expressed than in the words of one who was then curate of Middleton:

In 1870 came the parting. For five-and-thirty

years he had lived among them as one of them, and they had all come to think that there, too, he would end his days. Middleton liked him and he liked it. I do not suppose that it was with unmixed feelings that he received from Mr. Gladstone the offer of the Bishopric of Chichester, and certainly it was with very mixed feelings that we at Middleton heard the news: "T' Rector's going to be made a Bishop." That was a feather in our cap as well as his; but "T' Rector's going"-that soon took down our pride, and made us feel that we wished he was not going; we should miss him sore.'

So the long chapter of the Lancashire incumbency came to an end. It is fitting that in this memoir it should be closed in his own words, the last public utterance to a Lancashire audience while he was still a Lancashire Rector:

'I have found an amount of love which I never expected, and, I am sure, never deserved; I can only attribute it to this, that I have loved you too, and I believe that there is a power in Christian love which no power in heaven or earth can equal: that it is which unlocks the hearts of men and binds them fast to one another. That chain never can be broken. The further we go the longer it is and the stronger it is; and that is one of the solaces I feel in parting from this place and people, for I love both. I love the rugged place, the rugged climate, and love the people as rugged as their land. . . . And now let me thank you once more-wishing you every blessing here and hereafter. Let me pray that you will never forget me; I can never forget you. Whether we meet again, that stands not with

us, but with Him who orders all things wisely for the best. To the blessing of Jesus Christ our Saviour I commend you and all that are dear to you, all that I know and that know me. May they be happy, happy in mutual love and happy in their attachment to their minister; happy in the services of the Church, and faithful in all their professions. So may they adorn the doctrine of their Saviour in all things.'

III

CHAPTER III

The First Seven Years of Bishop Durnford's Episcopate, 1870-1877-Nature of the Diocese-Special Difficulties of the Time-Speech in Convocation on Confession-Church Congress at Brighton-Bishop Otter's College-The Theological College-The Diocesan Association-Dr. Hannah made Vicar of Brighton-Elementary Education -First Diocesan Conference-Bishop's Fund-Correspondence.

BISHOP GILBERT died at the age of eighty-four; and, as he had been infirm for several years, the diocese anxiously hoped for a vigorous successor. Churchmen, therefore, heard with feelings of disappointment, and almost of dismay, that the new Bishop was sixty-eight years of age; and when he appeared in the diocese, his spare frame, and his voice, clear and musical indeed, but not robust, did not encourage a confident expectation of prolonged activity and strength. Many were the predictions that he would inevitably break down in the course of two or three years beneath the strain of novel and harassing work, or else that very few of the new activities in administration which the condition of the diocese and the spirit of the age demanded would be attempted.

Never were gloomy forebodings of failure more completely falsified. The Bishop soon showed that, alike in bodily strength, and in clearness, vigour,

and alertness of intellect, he was not to be surpassed by any of his younger brethren on the Bench, and equalled by few; while the freshness and energy which would have been looked for in a much younger man were happily combined with the discretion and prudence that naturally accompany old age, together with that sympathetic appreciation of the difficulties and trials of the parochial clergy which only a long experience of life as a parish priest can secure.

'I come among you,' he said in his primary charge, 'with an earnest desire to be to all, according to my dearest and highest title, a Father in God. My experience, not of short duration nor of limited extent, has been in that very field of pastoral work which the Great Shepherd has called you to cultivate. I know the labours, the trials, the difficulties, the disappointments, and, I may add, the comforts which wait upon the work of a parochial clergyman. Therefore, among many disadvantages, I have this qualification for my office-that I can truly sympathise with you all; and I would fain give to all, according to my poor ability, counsel, help, support, encouragement.'

It has been commonly said that the diocese of Chichester is easy of administration; but the statement requires qualification. qualification. The diocese, which is almost exactly co-extensive with the county of Sussex, is nearly eighty miles in length, and the ancient city of Chichester, where the Bishop's dwelling is situated, stands at one extremity of it. In ancient days the roads of Sussex were pro