At intervals of five days, Archdeacon Froude gave Newman his melancholy bulletin. Nowhere is he more admirable than in facing the impending loss of the son who had come to be his pride and glory, and his bosom friend. Says the Rev. Thomas Mozley: ‘There was a sort of stoicism about Archdeacon Froude’s character which sometimes surprised those who had only seen him for a day or two, conversing, or sketching, or sight-seeing. He once rather shocked his clergy by delivering a Charge while a very dear daughter was lying dead in his house: but there was a romantic conception of duty in the act which affords some key to Richard Hurrell’s character.’ Feb. 18, 1836. ‘My dear Hurrell desires me to account to you for his long silence, but … I am sure you must have attributed it to the real cause, and be prepared for a confirmation of the fears I then expressed…. All hope of his recovery is gone; but we have the comfort of seeing him quite free from pain, and in sure trust that the change will be a happy one whenever it shall please God to take him. His thoughts continually turn to Oxford, to yourself, and Mr. Keble; but my heart is too full to add more than his instructions to thank you for all you have written to him, and to say how much he was interested in Mr. Rogers’ most amusing account of the late proceedings in the University.’ Feb. 23, 1836. ‘Your friend is still alive. The morning after I wrote my last, he awoke with a fluttering about the heart and a pulsation at the wrist I could not count. Our apothecary thought he could not live out the day; but our doctor holds out no hope of any change having taken place that should raise our expectations beyond that of a short respite. As he continues free from pain, or any very uncomfortable sensation except that of extreme weakness … I am thankful that he is permitted to remain with us, even for a few days. On no account, my dear Mr. Newman, would I have you come down: no good could come of it. You shall hear again from me in a few days; sooner, if anything occurs that should call for an earlier communication. Hurrell desires me to thank you, and also to say that he is “sorry that he has given you any trouble about those stupid accounts,” to use his own words, and that he “cannot scrape up ideas and strength enough” to write to you himself. Should he, (contrary to all reasonable grounds for hope), get a little about again, do tell Mr. Williams [that] his paying us a short visit will give us great pleasure indeed.’ Feb. 28, 1836.