‘The most important year in the history of the Oxford Movement was the year 1836,’[256] the Hampden year. The great fight at Arques was coming on, with ‘brave Crillon’ far away. Newman duly wished a Happy New Year to Hurrell at Dartington. Sadly welcome are such conventions, when nothing less may be said, and nothing more can be said. He sends divers comments, with a postscript: ‘T. Mozley cannot come to you. His brother is going to marry my younger sister.’[257] There was the usual prompt answer, touching on the testimonial to Wellington, then Chancellor of the University, as ‘abominable’ and _doctrinaire_; and on the 16th Mr. Rogers wrote from Bridehead, as he knew well that Newman would be anxious for personal news, as soon as might be: ‘I have left Froude, who professes to remain much as he has been, rather weaker than when you were with him, from never being in the open air, but not worse than he has been from the beginning of his confinement. I am afraid, too, he is not quite in such good spirits as he used to be. You ought to send Harrison down to him, to take lessons on the subject of the Reformers; for certainly he has a way of speaking which carries conviction in a very extraordinary way, over and above the arguments he uses. Did Froude tell you that some good lady who has read you wonders how it is that you and Arnold should have any difference between you, your sentiments and general tone so perfectly agreeing? (!)’ As the young host at Dartington had always loved the younger guest, it is natural to find the praises of the latter in Froude’s notes to Newman. Thus on Jan. 12: ‘Rogers leaves us on Thursday, having been the greatest of acquisitions, in the eyes of everyone.’ ‘The greatest of acquisitions’ of course meant an acquisition to the Cause: Mr. Rogers’ own worth being properly valued, and that valuation added as so much credit to local impressions of the Movement. Hurrell had no merely social triumphs in mind. He had paid Newman, as guest and passive proselytiser, the same compliment. Again: ‘R[ogers] left us on [Thursday]. We had many arguments and proses,[258] in the former of which he was generally victorious, but in the latter I think I may boast of having succeeded. I do believe he hates the meagreness of Protestantism as much as either of us.’ One who had never spared himself scrutiny and blame could, without affectation, arraign his dying languor as ‘selfishness’ and ‘idleness.’ Poor Hurrell’s capacity for work and perseverance had always been on the heroic scale. ‘These are not times,’ he had written in 1831, ‘in which people who think their own principles right have any business to be shilly-shally … [but] times when it seems almost a sin to be jolly.’ Newman knew how to cheer on that astounding energy, though with an aching heart. To the Rev. JOHN KEBLE, Jan. 7, 1836.