ENZB - 1966 - Arnold, Thomas. New Zealand letters of Thomas Arnold the younger...

[PREFACE]

PREFACE

THE material for this collection of correspondence came together in three stages. In 1949, Mr. C. R. H. Taylor of the Alexander Turnbull Library bought in London, ultimately from the estate of Miss Ethel Arnold, Thomas Arnold's youngest daughter, the main batch of her father's letters to his mother and sisters in England, covering the period of his emigration to New Zealand and Van Diemen's Land in the years 1847-1850. This group of thirty-four letters (including three to Julia Sorell, whom Thomas Arnold married in Hobart in 1850) was known to William T. Arnold when he wrote a memoir of his father in 1903, and has since been consulted and used by a number of literary and historical scholars--notably Dr. John Miller in his Early Victorian New Zealand, Professor Kenneth Allott of the University of Liverpool, and Mr. P. A. Howell of the University of Tasmania. Clearly, these letters deserved publication in full; it seemed equally clear that their documentary value might be strengthened by some supporting material.

Following the appearance of the two volumes of Professor F. L. Mulhauser's The Correspondence of Arthur Hugh Clough (1957), the main body of the Clough papers was deposited in the Bodleian Library, Oxford. Included among these papers was a group of Thomas Arnold's letters to Clough, of which the longer 'antipodistic' letters were regretfully omitted by the editor from his comprehensive selection of Clough correspondence. These Thomas Arnold-Clough letters, of which eleven are printed here, bring a welcome extension of intellectual and political range to the main body of his family correspondence.

Finally, the death in London in 1964 of Miss Dorothy Ward, Tom Arnold's grand-daughter, made available the group of ten letters from Clough to Thomas Arnold (designated Ward in Mulhauser's Catalogue) which had in considerable part been printed, though seldom in complete versions, in the two volumes of Clough Correspondence.

Miss Ward left her papers to her niece, Mrs. M. C. Moorman of Bishop Mount, Ripon, Yorkshire. In 1964, the Alexander Turnbull Library acquired from Mrs. Moorman the Ward group of Clough letters; Mrs. Moorman also generously donated to the

[Image of page viii]

Turnbull a number of Arnold family letters to Tom Arnold in the Antipodes, with some unpublished portions of the three 'Equator Letters' Thomas Arnold had completed on the voyage out to New Zealand--a kind of spiritual diary and record of his inner life to his twenty-fourth year, sent to J. C. Shairp and other friends in England to help account for his decision to emigrate. From these varied materials--mainly original manuscripts, but in a few cases reliable family copies of material that has been lost--the present volume has been compiled.

The source and location of all letters are indicated in the table of contents, where the following designations are used:

Turnbull MS. (Arnold)--Thomas Arnold's correspondence with his family and his fiancee.

Bodleian MS. --(with shelf-marks) T. A.'s letters to A. H. Clough and J. C. Shairp (Clough Papers).

Turnbull MS. (Ward)--Clough's letters to T. A.

Turnbull MS. or Copy (Moorman)--Arnold family letters to T. A., and parts of T. A.'s 'Equator Letters'.

W. T. Arnold, cit. Parts of the 'Equator Letters' quoted by W. T. Arnold in his article, 'Thomas Arnold the Younger', in the Century Magazine, New York, May 1903.

All letters that were obtainable in complete form have been given complete in the text, with heading and salutation; the fragmentary 'Equator Letters' have been assembled separately in Appendix A. Some attempt has been made to reproduce the appearance of the manuscript, as may be judged from the two facsimiles provided of a short complete letter of Thomas Arnold's, and an extract from a letter of Clough's. A number of Thomas Arnold's line drawings have been reproduced in the text as they occur.

Capital letters and punctuation follow the manuscript as closely as possible, though & and &c., cold and shld, have been spelled out. Less common abbreviations are sometimes expanded within square brackets; but for the sake of vividness, some of Clough's most typical contractions--when he is writing at speed--have been retained. (It seemed justifiable to make some distinction

[Image of page ix]

here between Arnold, who is in general a smooth and careful correspondent, and Clough, who is more quirky, donnish, and individual in his style as a letter-writer.) All superscript letters have been lowered, and internal dates moved to the right-hand margin. Postscripts undesignated in the text have been indicated within square brackets.

Where editorial additions were needed to confirm addresses and dates, these have been supplied within square brackets. Conjectural readings and inadvertent omissions are similarly indicated, in more doubtful cases with a question mark. Where a tear or a blot occurs in the manuscript, readings are given in angle brackets. Mis-spellings have been left without a [sic] unless they are seriously misleading, and French accents have been left as they stood. Greek accents, on the other hand, have been corrected, and all Greek quotations have been translated.

Thomas Arnold's life is discussed in the Introduction; further information about his family and those to whom these letters were addressed will be found in the section headed Correspondents at the end of the book. A few longer notes (as on the Clough poems here published in early drafts) have been added to the Appendix, after the 'Equator Letters'.

The University of Auckland and the editor wish to thank in particular Sir Julian Sorell Huxley, F. R. S., and Mrs. Moorman, for permission to publish the Arnold material which is central to this collection; and Miss Katharine Duff, grand-niece of the poet, for permission to publish or republish the Clough letters, and so for the first time present the Clough-Thomas Arnold exchange of this period complete. They wish also to thank the authorities of the Alexander Turnbull Library and the Bodleian Library for making available the manuscripts in their possession.

The editor, for his part, must here express his gratitude to all those who have helped to make this volume possible: the University of Auckland, for undertaking publication, with the aid of a major grant from the University Council; in particular Dr. E. H. McCormick, formerly editor of publications at that university, who might be described as the book's chief begetter; the University of Auckland's Publications Committee, and especially Dr. M. P. K. Sorrenson, who took over the business arrangements; the New Zealand University Grants Committee, for financial assistance towards the preparation of the edition; and the Victoria University of Wellington, for opportunities of study leave which allowed consultation of material in British and

[Image of page x]

American libraries, and for a generous grant towards publication costs.

He is deeply obliged to the former Librarian, Mr. John Reece Cole, and the staff of the Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, for unfailing courtesy and patience: especially to Mr. M. G. Hitchings for aid in the acquisition of manuscripts, and to Mr. A. A. St. C. Murray-Oliver for help with the illustrations.

Acknowledgements are also due to the Hocken Library of the University of Otago; the Library of Victoria University of Wellington and the Fildes Collection; the General Assembly Library, Wellington; the Early Settlers' Museum, Dunedin; the Nelson Institute (of which Thomas Arnold was once acting secretary); and those publishers who have allowed quotations from recent works. Permission to reproduce paintings and sketches from Australian and New Zealand collections is acknowledged in the list of illustrations.

Finally, I should like to express my personal gratitude to Mrs. Moorman, for her lively interest in this edition from its first stages, and for her invaluable assistance in tracing material and making available the daguerreotype portrait of Thomas Arnold in 1847; to Lady Chorley, for obtaining a copy of the hitherto unpublished early portrait of Clough by an unknown artist, and to Miss Katharine Duff, for consenting to its publication; and to Mrs. C. B. Sorell, for allowing me to reproduce the Wainewright water-colour of Julia Sorell now in her possession in Hobart. I am grateful to Professor Kenneth Allott for the continual stimulus of his incisive comments and criticism, and to Mr. P. A. Howell for helping me to obtain relevant illustrations of the Hobart scene: indeed, the debt this edition owes to Professor Allott and Mr. Howell for literary and historical details of the English and Tasmanian background can hardly be exaggerated--though they are not, of course, to be held responsible for any distortion or inaccuracy that may appear in my use of their material.

I owe a similar debt to Professor H. A. Murray, of the Department of Classics at the Victoria University of Wellington, for advice on the classical references. Miss Deborah Kirby typed a difficult script with patience and resolution, and Mr. E. L. Bracegirdle drew the map. Two expert colleagues, Professor J. C. Beaglehole and Professor D. F. McKenzie, kindly made suggestions (both by precept and example) in some matters of typography. Throughout the whole undertaking, Mr. W. P.

[Image of page xi]

Carman, of Wright and Carman Ltd., Wellington, has been the most indulgent of printers.

Since there is at present, as part of the general revival of interest in the Victorians, a fair amount of work in progress on Thomas Arnold the Younger (we are promised a biography, a study of his educational theories, and a reprint of Passages in a Wandering Life), I have not included a bibliography; but the index to this volume has been made rather fuller than usual, in the hope that the book may be of use to students of the period.

I must add my special thanks to my wife, for preparing the index and for loyal support in many ways. The dedication remembers three friends of a lifetime who have shared, in different fields, Thomas Arnold's early hopes for New Zealand, and for that ideal college of free minds he failed to build at Nelson, between the mountains and the sea.

J. B.
Victoria University of Wellington
June 1966

[Image of page xii]

[Page xii is blank]

INTRODUCTION

[Image of page xxiii]

INTRODUCTION

THOMAS ARNOLD THE YOUNGER was not an Eminent Victorian: he made less stir in the world than his famous father, or his more powerful elder brother. A young man of promise who threw away every material advantage that came within his grasp, the quixotic victim of his own restless and self-defeating temperament--such was the verdict of his own time, and it has not since been greatly modified. Yet, like his friend Clough, Tom Arnold (the familiar style is convenient to distinguish him from his father, and is somehow appropriate) remains a more attractive figure than many of those contemporaries whose lives were coolly organized to more applauded ends. Unusual candour and warmth of feeling, a kind of youthful impulsiveness he never grew out of, were endearing qualities that everyone recognized in Tom Arnold: they provoked a special tone of exasperated affection in the comments of more worldly friends, who noted his apparent lack of ballast and abrupt changes of course. These qualities make his earlier writings especially revealing; for, unlike his brother Matthew, he holds nothing back.

Tom Arnold is at his best in his private letters, as I hope this volume may show. Few Victorian documents give us more vividly the sensation of what it felt like to be a young man of generous instincts, early conditioned to social responsibility, coming of age in the 'Hungry Forties', and reaching for certainties in an

... iron time
Of doubts, disputes, distractions, fears.

In the end, the younger Thomas Arnold was to have a useful if undistinguished life in the service of education, and was to find his own kind of spiritual peace. Yet this came only after more ups and downs, more physical and metaphysical wanderings, than most Englishmen of his generation cared to invite.

Tom Arnold was Dr. Arnold's favourite son. The third of nine children, he was born on 30 November 1823 at Laleham on the Thames, where his father took private pupils. Five years later Dr. Arnold was elected headmaster of Rugby. Here, in the School-House and its adjacent garden, the Arnold children grew

[Image of page xxiv]

up, watched at their play by a lonely boarder whose own family was across the Atlantic. This wistful onlooker was 'Tom Yankee Clough', soon to become the paladin of a reformed Rugby School, and to be adopted as a kind of elder brother into the Arnold family circle. 1

The paralysing effects of Dr. Arnold's strenuous regime on his favourite pupil have often been discussed; his favourite son could hardly escape them. The nursery and the deathbed, so dear to Victorian fiction, were held to be decisive moulders of character: we catch glimpses of young Tom, rather painfully exposed, in both these settings. He had been a delicate child, whose life was despaired of before he was five; his father then wrote to the invalid sister Susannah who received all his deepest confidences: 'I might have loved him, had he lived, too dearly--you know how dearly I do love him now'. 2 After another illness when he was eight, the boy asked his father to write for him something that should be his 'very own'. The Doctor called on his neglected and somewhat stiff-jointed Muse:

Now from thy little Bed thy Smile
How sweet it gleams when I draw nigh--
'Tis sweet,--but let us pray the while
To smile as sweetly when we die. 3

It was no idle prayer. Ten years later death came suddenly, in mid-career, to the great champion of reform in church and state. He met it, in the bosom of his family, with exemplary courage and resignation. Arthur Stanley, Dr. Arnold's first biographer and the virtual creator of the Arnold legend, wrote to Clough immediately after the event of the 'almost royal majesty of his death':

When Tom, who was called up came to him, he said 'My son, thank God for me.--Thank God for having sent me this pain. I never had pain before, and I feel it is good for me, and I am so thankful. '... Mrs. A. had just called Tom out of the room, to tell him, what he did not seem aware of,--of his father's great danger--when the scream from the stairs called her up. The fatal paroxysm had come in--the screams of the children who were all

[Image of page xxv]

brought in produced no impression upon him--a few long sighs--and in three minutes he was gone. 4

The effects of this scene on a sensitive, stammering boy of eighteen can be imagined. What could any young man do, with such a burden of family hopes and moral obligations thrust upon him? The older Matthew found his prompt escape behind a pose of cynical, fashionable indolence; but Tom remained always vulnerable to his father's legacy of fierce affection. 'That ever dear and beloved one, that too trusting and sanguine nature, rated me much too highly', he wrote years later in his journal. 5 Yet in his own way he tried to shoulder the burden--not least, perhaps, in his one man mission to the new world of New Zealand, from which Dr. Arnold had hoped so much.

The prelude to Tom Arnold's New Zealand adventure was an outwardly conventional middle-class education at public school and university, followed by two years' residence in London. In some ways this was a Wordsworthian prelude, with an abiding refuge from the pressure of institutions in the English Lake District.

How still this upland Vale!
How clear, how peaceful is this infant Stream!
How blest in their untroubled Loneliness
Its sparkling Waters seem! 6

If there was a still centre to the whirlwind that was Dr. Arnold in his most active years, it was to be found at Fox How, the Westmorland home under Loughrigg the Wordsworths helped him to buy and plan. The Arnold family migrated to Fox How at least twice a year from Rugby, and here the stern headmaster became a gay and human companion, fond of absurd nicknames and 'kennel-rules' for the children, often joining in their games, and taking them all on mountain walks, carefully planned in easy stages for the youngest. After Dr. Arnold's death, Mrs. Arnold with the younger children settled at Fox How, and Matthew and Tom regularly went home there in vacations. The grey stone house among the fells remained the magnetic north to which Tom's affections always turned during the long years of exile.

[Image of page xxvi]

After a year at Winchester and five years at Rugby, Tom Arnold went up to University College, Oxford, in the autumn of 1842. He spent three years at Oxford--years made memorable for the English religious conscience by the climax of the Tractarian movement, the degradation of W. G. Ward, and the final reception of Newman (which Dr. Arnold had clearly foreseen, long before Newman himself) into the Roman Church. Tractarianism had little direct impact on Tom Arnold, or for that matter upon Clough, who was now Fellow and Tutor at Oriel. It was Matthew Arnold who, for aesthetic rather than doctrinal reasons, 'for a long time regularly attended' 7 Newman's afternoon Sunday sermons at St. Mary's: Tom Arnold's daughter records that 'My father only once crossed the street to hear him, and was then repelled by the mannerism of the preacher'. 8 Clough and the younger Arnold were much more concerned with political and social issues, with Chartism and the Corn Laws, the Irish Question, the policies of Sir Robert Peel--all heatedly discussed at breakfast in Clough's rooms over the latest Spectator. New prophets were eagerly read: Carlyle and Emerson, Goethe and Jean-Paul and George Sand. The inner record of crisis in Tom Arnold's private beliefs is separately documented in the fragmentary 'Equator Letters' printed in Appendix A of this volume: these offer us a rather solemn but unquestionably authentic confessional account, which rings the changes on youthful evangelical zeal followed by dejection and near-despair, a temporary recovery with a brief bout of Wesleyan enthusiasm, the swift growth of radical political convictions, and finally a settled rejection of any form of orthodox religion. Two things are important to note here. First, that at Oxford--no less decisively if less irretrievably than Clough--Tom Arnold lost the confident Christian faith of his Rugby years. Second, that from 1844 onwards 'New Zealand and the life of a Colonist' had become an obsession. 9

Despite the 'spiritual east wind' he had encountered there, Thomas Arnold was highly regarded at Oxford. He had grown into a tall, good-looking young man, who revelled in strenuous walks on Highland reading-parties, and stuck to his books much more resolutely than his brother Matthew. He took his double first, in Mods, and Greats, with apparent ease. An Oxford man

[Image of page xxvii]

in 1845, meeting a friend in the High Street outside the Schools where the viva voce was being held, was advised to look in and see 'the handsomest don in Oxford examining the handsomest undergraduate'. 10 (The don was Henry Liddell, father of Lewis Carroll's 'Alice'.) Clough thought Tom might have got a fellowship at Balliol in 1845; 11 he could certainly have had one at University College the following year. But he was determined to break out of the university pale; New Zealand was distinct in his mind as a distant goal, and he was casting about for some practical qualification that might help him there. In April 1846 he was entered at Lincoln's Inn and read law for three months; but the law was a 'hardening worldly profession', 12 and the distressed condition of the London poor as he saw it at close quarters further sickened him of England. He announced to the family his firm decision to emigrate.

Mrs. Arnold--a sympathetic but level-headed parent, not without some influence in government circles--persuaded him to a further delay: she suggested a term in the Colonial Office. A post was found for him as a precis-writer, and he soon won the good opinion of the Colonial Secretary, the third Earl Grey. An official career at Whitehall or abroad lay open before him; but again, it would not do. 'So', his son wrote fifty years later, 'Thomas Arnold determined to throw up the Colonial Office, take the few hundred pounds that might rightly come to him from the slender family store, and go to New Zealand.' 13

Why did he go, and what did he hope to achieve? Looking back later from the end of the century, he thought it was with 'Pantisocratic' notions of helping to found a new ideal society in an unspoiled, perfect locale. 14 But Tom Arnold, even in 1847, was not quite so naive as that; and the sombre tone of the first letter printed in this volume does not suggest any facile or extravagant expectations. It seems safest to start with established fact.

Dr. Arnold, from the time when he won the English Prize at Oxford with an essay on 'The Effects of distant Colonization on the Parent State', had taken a keen interest in overseas settlement. In later years, he expressed a periodic desire to emigrate

[Image of page xxviii]

with his family--to the Swan River in Western Australia, to Van Diemen's Land, or to New Zealand. In 1839 he invested in the New Zealand Company, acquiring what turned out to be two country sections of 100 acres each, and a town section, in the original Wakefield settlement that soon became Wellington. 'I have often thought of New Zealand,' he wrote to Sir Thomas Pasley in 1840, 'and if they would make you Governor and me Bishop, I would go out, I think, to-morrow,--not to return after so many years, but to live and die there, if there was any prospect of rearing any hopeful form of society.' 15 And later in the same year, to Henry Fox: 'Every good man going to New Zealand, or to Van Diemen's Land, not for the sake of making money, is an invaluable element in those societies.' 16 Five years after Dr. Arnold's death his 200 acres were neatly ruled off on the New Zealand Company's survey map, only awaiting someone to take them up. It was an open invitation to any member of his own family; and there is no reason to distrust Tom Arnold's statement that his father's actions 'caused me to read everything about New Zealand that I came across'. 17

In January 1846 Clough wrote to a Rugby friend: 'Tom Arnold has for the present given up New Zealand--why, I do not yet know'. 18 The obvious inference here is family opposition. There were other complications, less of the mind than of the heart.

Clough is an important witness after the event. In his lively narrative poem The Bothie of Toper-na-Fuosich, published just a year after Tom left England, he wrote the small epic of what might be called the mood and motive of nineteenth-century colonization. The hero of The Bothie, Philip Hewson, is a young Oxford undergraduate who closely resembles Tom Arnold in his outspoken radical sympathies, his impulsive behaviour, and his romantic temperament. Within the rapid course of the action, against a Scottish Highland background, Philip has three successive love affairs: a brief infatuation with a pretty farm girl, an even briefer flirtation (obviously on the rebound) with a more glamorous 'Lady Maria' at a fashionable house-party, and finally the serious romance that leads to marriage with Elspie, daughter of a Highland crofter-farrier. Philip returns to Oxford

[Image of page xxix]

to finish his degree, then marries his Elspie and sets off with his bride in search of a free, classless society in New Zealand. It seems likely that the detail of the love stories in The Bothie more closely reflects some episodes in Clough's own early experience, than anything he may have known of Tom Arnold's emotional life. 19 Yet the love interest is structurally built into the poem, to provide a major part of the motive for emigration. In Philip Hewson's case, a marriage 'outside his own class' made departure from England almost inevitable; there could be no easy future for him in Victorian professional life. Traditionally, it was often some public scandal or a mesalliance at home that urged Englishmen towards the colonies. 20

Tom Arnold, we know, did not marry before he left England; but he did have an unhappy love affair, to which there are clear references in his letters from 1847 onwards. 'You will easily understand that what has brought this premature old age on my spirit', he tells his mother from the ship bearing him to New Zealand, 'is the sad fate of a love which had inwoven itself into every fibre of my existence.' 21 Again, to his sister Jane from Wellington soon after his arrival, he writes of his loneliness, with no one 'to whom he can turn and pour forth his heart. Were there but one--but wishes and complainings are vain; I have done my duty, and it was never promised me that I should be the happier for doing it, but only the better and the purer.' 22 Finally, and most explicitly, to his mother in June 1848: 'Since I lost Etty, my heart is much deadened both to pain and pleasure, and nothing can now affect me so vividly as it could in times past.' 23

Who was 'Etty'? Tom's language about her is conventionally romantic, according to the mode of the day; yet obviously his family knew all about her, which makes it inconceivable that his feelings had aimed at anything less than marriage. It is now possible not merely to identify her, but to trace a sequel between the two families that might have been designed for the plot of a Victorian three-decker novel. She was Henrietta Whately, daughter of Dr. Arnold's old friend and associate from his Oxford years at Corpus and Oriel, Richard Whately, since 1831 Archbishop of Dublin (the Church preferment Dr. Arnold

[Image of page xxx]

himself so narrowly missed). The Whatelys had a country house, 'Redesdale', in Ireland, and the children exchanged visits with the young Arnolds over school holidays; Edward Whately, the only son, was a close friend of Tom's, and Jane Whately was especially popular with the Arnold girls. Tom Arnold must have made a declaration to Henrietta Whately not long after he left Oxford, and been turned down. His sister Jane (the beloved and understanding 'K', who had herself suffered from an abruptly broken engagement in 1842) 24 is the first member of the family to bring Etty back into the correspondence with Tom in New Zealand; she does this with tact, at the end of a letter of 27 June 1848, in terms which are clearly intended to soften the blow she must deliver:

I wonder whether you will be very much astonished to hear that Etty is engaged to be married--I cannot say that I was grieved at this--for you know that I have long thought that she was not altogether the person who would make you happy as a wife.... The engagement was made at Cheltenham in the spring--her future husband is Mr. Wale a lawyer living in London.... He is a man of about 30--very amiable and sensible they say, and of deep religious principles--It speaks well for him, that he has lived in fashionable society for many years and is quite unspoiled.... 25

A strong clue to the reasons for Henrietta's rejection of Tom is given in Jane's next paragraph: 'The great thing which will ensure Etty's happiness is that he will evidently adopt her father and mother as his principal guides--this I am sure would be essential to her happiness in married life, and therefore she ought not to have been the wife of a man of very original or independent character. She seems now, dear girl, perfectly happy.... 26

To a pious and dutiful daughter of Bishopscourt, Tom Arnold at the height of his George Sand period must indeed have seemed a dangerous suitor. By 1846 he was already a devout admirer of Jacques, and it was Jacques who had written to his Sylvia: 'Je n'ai pas change d'avis, je ne me suis pas reconcilie avec la societe, et le mariage est toujours, selon moi, une de plus barbares institutions qu'elle ait ebauchees'. Tom records his own feelings

[Image of page xxxi]

about the 'divine stoicism of Jacques' and the sad fate of his love in the third 'Equator Letter', in what may now be seen as a clear reference to the Etty episode: 'It was so then;--in the age in which we live, and in the society in which we move, there is a curse on love and marriage for those who will not bow the knee to the world's laws; those who have resolved to put away illusions, and to live for truth, be it at the risk of all that is held precious here below, rest, happiness, nay, of love itself, which is the very life of life.' 27

It seems, then, that we must add to Tom Arnold's declared reasons for emigration the by no means inconsiderable motive of having been turned down by a girl at home. And 1847 was a great year for marriage--or the threat of it--among the young men of what may be termed 'the Bothie circle'. In August, Theodore Walrond wrote to Clough: 'You have probably heard that Miss Lockhart is to be married immediately, and without hope of escape, to Hope of Merton. Shairp in despair has rushed blindly to the siren island of Gartshore with ears, I fear, unstopped. Tom, I trust, will escape Orpheus-like, chanting the praises of Jenny Lind.' 28 The 'Swedish nightingale', who in 1847 had taken all London by storm, appears very early in these letters as a kind of private sublimation of 'das Ewigweibliche,; her portrait was later to comfort Tom Arnold in his bare little cottage at Nelson.

If, like Philip Hewson, Tom Arnold had brought an Elspie (of rather tougher mould than Henrietta Whately) with him as bride, he might perhaps have stayed on in New Zealand. Nothing is more constant, in his letters home, than the complaint that a colonist is lost without a wife. And when he moved on to Hobart Town in 1850 and so rapidly acquired a wife (no crofter's daughter, but the dashing descendant of an extremely worldly colonial governor), it seems natural to suppose that he was irresistibly attracted by one who was, in almost every respect, the direct opposite of the timid Henrietta. Tom Arnold's marriage will be discussed below; it remains here to note the strange sequel to his first disappointment in love, which was worked out in the next generation. William Thomas Arnold, his eldest son, was born in Hobart in 1852; he followed his father to Rugby and University College, and later found a career in

[Image of page xxxii]

liberal journalism on the staff of the Manchester Guardian. In 1877, W. T. Arnold married 'Henrietta, daughter of Charles Wale, J. P., of Little Shelford, and granddaughter of Archbishop Whately'. 29 They had no children.

'Tom Arnold's conscious reasons for emigrating to New Zealand were two: first, to discover a freer, happier and more equitable social order than he saw around him in England in 1847; second, to discover his real self in independent isolation.' 30 This summary of Kenneth Allott's is concise and accurate. Once Tom Arnold's mind was made up, no appeals of prudence or affection could ever alter it. His father's old friend Baron Bunsen, Prussian Ambassador in England, entreated him solemnly 'not to take a precipitate step', and quoted Niebuhr's old maxim: 'Spartam quam nactus es, orna! 31 All in vain. 'Farewell!', wrote Arthur Stanley with emotion, 'farewell-my dearest, earliest, best of pupils!' 32 The frigate-built ship John Wickliffe (662 tons, Bartholomew Daly commander), named for an early reformer and bearing a descendant of Covenanters at the head of the first group of Free Kirk settlers for Otago, in uneasy company with a solitary Spinozistic radical, clawed her way down the Channel, and Tom Arnold began the first entries in his journal of the long voyage out.

The John Wickliffe, after an unpromising start, made a smart passage, 33 and the young traveller learnt something about colonists before he sighted his chosen colony. Thomas Arnold, years later, wrote two reports on his travels for publication: the first is the article, 'Reminiscences of New Zealand', which he contributed to Fraser's Magazine in 1861; the second, some chapters in his interesting but rather ill-balanced autobiography, Passages in a Wandering Life, published in London just before his death in 1900. The letters are, of course, closer in time to the events dis-

[Image of page xxxiii]

cussed, and are more freshly written, with a wider range of detail and a stronger feeling for local colour. Their value for the colonial historian, or for anyone seriously interested in early Victorian New Zealand, hardly needs underlining here. They also tell us a good deal about Tom Arnold's progress in self-discovery. Only one key episode is missing--the young colonist's first encounter with nature in isolation. This was such an absurd anti-climax that it is understandable he could not bear to write about it, even to his mother, until 1851.

On the voyage out, Tom Arnold had discussed with Captain Cargill and other Otago settlers the possibility of 'a little expedition into the unknown interior, to explore the upper valley of the Molyneux', and gain a sight of the main Southern Alpine chain. 'The thought of this expedition makes me half wild with delight... I shall take a bag of flour with me, a compass, a tinder box, a small kettle, some tea, and my gun and pistols; and I shall try to obtain the services of a native, and then hey, ho! for the interior....' 34 This has an alarmingly amateurish ring. Yet it is a matter of plain record that much useful and difficult exploration was done in these years by amateurs fresh out from England, with little more experience than Tom Arnold had gained on his Lake District or Scottish Highland walks. A dozen years later Samuel Butler (a strictly comparable figure, if always rather harder-headed) accomplished some remarkable mountain trips, and deservedly won a good deal of local prestige from them. Tom Arnold, by contrast, got no further than his first camp after a day's march, when he was defeated by a single heavy shower of rain.

The morning came, and the sun rose gloriously, but I was chilled through and faint from hunger. I saw, too, that my provisions would not hold out for more than another day, and I resolved to return. I could not light a fire,--everything was too wet,--and I could not eat flour; so I started without any breakfast. As I struggled back over the mountains, almost sick with hunger, I could not help remarking within myself a longing to get back to the settlement and the haunts of men equal to the desire which I had felt a day or two before to penetrate deep into the silence and solitude of the bush.... A sort of horror fell upon me, the might of Nature seemed to rise up,--irresistible, all-pervading,--

[Image of page xxxiv]

and to press down upon my single life. From the hour that I reached the settlement I became, I think, a wiser man... 35

It is easy to smile at this, though we may be grateful for the candour that has recorded it. Tom Arnold later put in some quite respectable New Zealand journeys, on foot or horseback or in small coastal craft, and thoroughly enjoyed them; but clearly he was not cut out to be an explorer. Nor, for that matter, a settler breaking in virgin land. When he reached Wellington he found that his 'country acres' were shut in the damp Makara valley, difficult of access and covered in heavy bush. With some enterprise, he managed to exchange one of his Makara sections for a section on the main road north from Wellington, and spent most of his slender capital on clearing the roadside area and putting up a small cottage. At once, there was a demand for leases on this new property from land-hungry tenant-farmers: it might soon have proved an excellent investment. But the Arnold trustees in England very short-sightedly vetoed the exchange of sections, and Tom Arnold's 'colonizing' came to a sudden dead-end.

Meantime, new possibilities had offered themselves. While the young settler, suitably attired in blue serge shirt and moleskins, was at work in his bush, Governor Grey rode by on the Porirua highway, and promptly offered him an appointment as his private secretary. This was work for which an Arnold was admirably qualified, and which might--under such powerful patronage--have led on to an official career as rewarding as any a small colony could afford. Tom Arnold, as he wrote to Clough not long afterwards, was briefly tempted, but soon remembered the independent character he was cast for:

Adam wouldn't speak,--indeed it was known he couldn't;
Hewson could, and would if they wished; Philip Hewson the poet,
Hewson the radical hot, hating lords and scorning ladies,
Silent mostly, but often reviling in fire and fury
Feudal tenures, mercantile lords, competition and bishops,
Liveries, armorial bearings, amongst other things the Game-laws:
He could speak, and was asked-to by Adam, but Lindsay aloud cried

[Image of page xxxv]

(Whiskey was hot in his brain) Confound it, no, not Hewson,
A'nt he cock-sure to bring-in his eternal political humbug? 36

In Philip's clear accents, Tom Arnold gave his refusal; he had not left the Colonial Office in Whitehall to become the mere scribe of a proconsul.

Much more attractive, in every way, was the suggestion that he might become head of a 'broad and liberal college', soon to be established at Nelson from New Zealand Company funds. Here was the chance to make a start at the kind of secular modern education he already saw as far more suitable for a colonial society than church schools, either of the 'Establishment' or 'Bible and Foreign' pattern. The Nelson College scheme seemed to offer the fulfilment of all a young Arnold's inchoate aspirations--the opportunity to build a new Rugby or a new Oxford of the south under the snows of Mount Arthur, to 'change the face of education' through all the Queen's outlying dominions. His new friend Alfred Domett--admirably placed, as Colonial Secretary at Wellington, for pulling all the political strings--was solidly behind the Nelson scheme; Grey was sympathetic, and offered government help with the provision of buildings. Tom Arnold wrote off post haste to Clough in Oxford: would he come out as his first professor? This, surprisingly, was a real possibility; Clough had just resigned his tutorship at Oriel, and was anxious to quit Oxford (a year or so later, he seriously applied for a post at the new university foundation in Sydney). Until the ambitious college scheme was approved, Tom would make a start with a small school for private pupils in Nelson.

Alas, it was all a dream. Some more active entrepreneur in the New Zealand Company, it appeared, had got down on the funds originally allocated for the Nelson College. 37 Tom Arnold's private school made a modest beginning, but soon ran into difficulties. The Nelson settlers were keen enough on modern education for their sons, but less keen on paying their fees; Tom Arnold was the last person in the world to relish dunning them. The new society was already showing signs of the cloven hoof, of a greater concern for individual profits than for self-improve-

[Image of page xxxvi]

ment. Disheartened, Tom Arnold had already written off to friends in Van Diemen's Land to inquire about teaching posts, preferably with a regular salary, in an older colony darkened by the shadow of penal settlement, when an official message arrived from Hobart Town, offering him the key position of Inspector of Schools under Governor Denison. This was a sign from heaven: had not Dr. Arnold personally chosen one of the staunchest of his earlier Rugby pupils, J. P. Gell, to go out and aid Sir John Franklin to establish an inter-denominational Christ's College in Hobart? So, after less than two full years in New Zealand, Tom Arnold set off again on another voyage.

It would be misleading to suggest the New Zealand years had been spent entirely in frustration. After that first disastrous Otago expedition (which, very sensibly, he kept dark) Tom Arnold stayed within the range of his known abilities. He had made what New Zealanders would call 'a good stab' at farming, and been defeated by lack of capital and decisions outside his own control. In the late eighteen-forties the new settlements were emerging from an economic crisis which had flattened many of the smaller men; it was the few run-holders with capital--men like Weld and Stafford and Bidwell, who had the money to import sheep from Australia by the thousand, and move them into ungrazed country without waiting for government approval--who really saved the struggling colony. 38 If Tom Arnold, like Samuel Butler after him, had had a few thousand pounds to spend rather than a few hundred, he might in a short time have had as good a return for his money as Butler; no doubt friends like Weld would have given him the necessary advice. But like most of the Arnold sons he was an educationist at heart, and the collapse of the Nelson College scheme was the real blow.

A New Zealander is bound to regret the lost opportunities--what it might have meant to a young country to have had an early college headed by an Arnold and a Clough, what Tom Arnold's literary intelligence might have achieved working with the imaginative and scholarly Grey, rather than with the hidebound and reactionary Denison. Yet, as these letters convincingly show, Tom Arnold enjoyed much of his New Zealand experience. He responded enthusiastically to the natural beauty of the country, made good friends among some of the most active and intellectually stimulating members of the first generation of

[Image of page xxxvii]

colonists, and kept his eyes and ears open to a vigorous colonial life of challenge, enterprise, and change. Nor had he lost anything of the 'old democratic fervour'. He was quick to respond to revolutionary events in Europe, as the storm rolled up Italy in 1848, broke over Paris, then reverberated back to Vienna itself. Letters from home kept him informed of all this, while he sang the Marseillaise or the Shan Van Vocht at bachelor parties in Thorndon or Te Aro, and threw himself into smaller struggles for liberty in Nelson against the 'tyranny' of an arbitrary colonial government which proposed to set up a provincial council by a Governor's mere nomination. And though we may no longer, with Dr. Miller, claim him as the author of a challenging series of articles on education published in Wellington and Nelson newspapers in 1849, he was certainly--along with Domett and Fox--one of the first champions of secular state schools for the young colony. 39

Van Diemen's Land was very different from New Zealand. Here, with an official post at the centre of the administration and an urgent task of school reform awaiting him, he was to be plunged into years of steady, exacting, and in the end genuinely constructive work. What all that meant to public education in Tasmania and in Australia generally has been admirably documented by P. A. Howell in his monograph, Thomas Arnold the Younger in Van Diemen's Land (Tasmanian Historical Research Association, 1964). Yet in the chapter of his life covered by these letters, the main event was his marriage, within six months of his arrival, to Julia Sorell.

It says much for the new elan with which Tom Arnold confronted his destiny in Hobart Town, that he was able to bring off this surprising match. Julia Sorell in 1850 was the belle of a small garrison society, the officers' toast, the bewitching target of a good deal of exciting and sometimes malicious gossip. Tom Arnold met her at a party in March 1850, given by Mrs. Poynter, widow of a Hobart merchant, at her house in a fashionable district at Davey Street. 'O my own Julia', Tom wrote shortly afterwards when they were already engaged, 'I shall never forget how beautiful and captivating you were that night; nor what a rage I was in at finding you had gone home without me....

[Image of page xxxviii]

But the truth is, I did not know then that you had broken off your engagement with Elliott and I therefore thought it was hardly fair to you to remain by your side quite as much as my heart prompted me....' 40 Forty years on, when Julia Arnold was dead and buried, the spell was still strong, and Tom Arnold could write of that first meeting: 'I remember that as we talked a strange feeling came over me of having met her before--of having always known her--as if neither the tone nor the drift of her words were unexpected'. 41

Had he met her before, perhaps, in a George Sand novel--this girl in a black silk dress, with a white lace berthe and red bows in the skirt of the dress, this girl with her French vivacity and her somewhat alarming reputation? Julia Sorell, granddaughter of an earlier Lieutenant-Governor of Van Diemen's Land, had been twice engaged before she met Tom Arnold. Elliott seems to have been a relatively obscure army officer, but four years earlier she had been reported as engaged to Chester Eardley-Wilmot, son of Lieutenant-Governor Sir John Eardley-Wilmot, and Hobart scandal claimed that her too intimate relationship with her prospective father-in-law helped to hasten Sir John's recall the following year. 42 In the very month of her engagement to him, even the unsuspicious Tom picked up gossip about Julia's flirtation with another colonial governor's son, Captain Fitzroy, the year before. Perhaps it was the awareness of so many rivals, as well as his own headlong devotion, which hurried on the wedding that took place (on Dr. Arnold's birthday) in St. David's Cathedral, Hobart Town, in June 1850.

Julia Sorell flashes like a firebird across the prison-haunted Hobart scene. There can be no doubt about the fresh breeze she brought into her husband's life, or the happiness of their first married years. Despite all her wildness, Julia had (when she cared to remember it) a strong Protestant background; she came of a Huguenot family of soldiers, and while her husband's anti-clericalism and continuing rejection of his father's Broad Church creed did not daunt her, it was certain that any whiff of Papistry would. So it was Julia who was the most shaken when, six years later, the free-thinking radical she had married announced his whole-hearted conversion to the Roman Catholic faith--something so unexpected, so much at variance with his Arnold background and early opinions, that it deserves some

[Image of page xxxix]

attention here. As their eldest daughter, Mrs. Humphry Ward, wrote in her affectionate if over-dramatized family memoir: 'He was never able to explain it afterwards, even to me, who knew him best of all his children. I doubt whether he ever understood it himself. But he who had only once crossed the High Street to hear Newman preach, and felt no interest in the sermon, now, on the other side of the world, surrendered to Newman's influence.... that subtle pervasive intellect which... now, reaching across the world, laid hold on Arnold's son....' 43

Perhaps it was simpler than that. With hind sight, and especially with some knowledge of that spiritual diary of his Oxford and London years which we have in the 'Equator Letters', it is easy enough to see Thomas Arnold as one naturally religious, to whom youthful scepticism, and a period of idealistic revolutionary enthusiasm, could never afford lasting satisfaction. Tougher minds like Clough or Froude or his brother Matthew could bridge the chasm of doubt with their own stoic creeds of self-reliance and private faith; Tom Arnold needed an authority as firm and unambiguous as his father's, and he could not find it either in the Church of England, or in nonconformity. A tone caught from the First Epistle of Peter, the chance discovery at a Tasmanian country inn of a Life of St. Brigit of Sweden (for whom later he developed a tenderness eclipsing his youthful devotion to Jenny Lind), a voice heard one day as he rode through the bush--and the way ahead was suddenly clear for him. Soon he was writing to Dr. Arnold's old colleague and antagonist, now buried in religious educational work in the English Midlands and Ireland: 'Revd and Dear Sir: I entreat you to forgive the freedom which I take in addressing you, though an utter stranger to you. The name I bear is doubtless familiar to you... your writings have exercised the greatest influence over my mind... and I ardently long for the hour of making my formal submission to the Catholic Church....' 44

Newman replied from Dublin, with generosity as well as with Christian charity. 'My dear Arnold: Will you allow me to call you so? How strange it seems! What a world this is! I knew your father a little, and I really think I never had an unkind feeling towards him.... If I said ever a harsh thing against him, I am very sorry for it. In seeing you, I shall have a sort of pledge that he at the moment of his death made it all up with me....

[Image of page xl]

May all blessings come upon you....' 45 Within the year, Thomas Arnold and his family had packed up and left Tasmania. Newman eventually obtained for him, against strong Irish opposition, the Chair of English Literature at the new Catholic University in Dublin.

The rest of the story may be briefly told: it contains two more abrupt reversals of course. Tom Arnold's becoming a Roman Catholic did not necessarily mean the loss of his Tasmanian position; after the news became public in Hobart he had been given an increase in salary, and he was readily granted extended leave of absence to return to England. 46 But there had been some resentment, of course; and no doubt with the zeal of a convert he was eager to work directly for his new co-religionists. He taught for some years in Dublin, then resigned and became first classics master at the Birmingham Oratory School under Newman. He had never ceased to be a liberal in politics; but liberalism, he learnt, could be risky in church affairs. In 1864 he proposed to give as an extra prize to a boy in his highest form a copy of Dr. Dollinger's work, The Church and the Churches. Dr. Newman and Father Ambrose strongly disapproved, and would not allow it. In June 1865 a paragraph appeared in the newspapers to the effect that Thomas Arnold was 'relapsing': 47 it may well be that the latest manoeuvres of Pio Nono had been too much for him. In any case, the newspaper report had not exaggerated; that year, he left the Roman Catholic Church.

What next? Once more his thoughts turned to emigration, this time to Queensland. 48 Arthur Stanley and other friends, however, saw their chance to reclaim the lost sheep, and rallied round to some effect. Soon Tom Arnold was established in Oxford, where he obtained a lectureship in history, took private pupils, and revived the old Bothie practice of long-vacation reading-parties--now, presumably, playing the part of the grave tutor Adam to some undergraduate Philip of another generation, perhaps one tempted (like the late 'Star of Balliol', Gerard Hopkins) by the seductive aesthetic appeal of the Old Faith. The relief of his relatives, and of his long-suffering wife--whose spirit had been severely tested by the uprooting from her old home in the

[Image of page xli]

Antipodes, and the depressing middle-class poverty she had known in Dublin and Birmingham--was immense. Here at last was Dr. Arnold's son, winning a long-delayed reputation as scholar and teacher in what might be regarded as his proper sphere. In 1876, after ten years of Anglican orthodoxy and academic respectability, Thomas Arnold was the favoured candidate for the new Chair of Anglo-Saxon at Oxford University: 49 for him, as for James Anthony Froude after years of struggle, public recognition and a post of honour seemed in sight. With the perversity, or the sublime integrity, he had always shown on such occasions, Tom Arnold chose this moment to return to the Roman Catholic fold.

It was too much for Julia. Her health was now broken, if not her spirit. She refused to follow him back to Ireland, where he became Professor of English at University College, Dublin, with Father Gerard Hopkins as a classical colleague. It was his last switch. He remained a devout Roman Catholic and a humble, hard-working teacher to the end, remembered by his granddaughter, on one of the rare occasions when he came to revisit England, as 'still a tall and beautiful figure, in spite of his seventy-three years'. 50 By 1888, Julia's 'suffering and storm-beaten life was coming rapidly to its close'; 51 she died in Oxford that spring. Two years afterwards, Thomas Arnold married Josephine Benison, of Slieve Russell, county Cavan. He died ten years later, and was buried in Glasnevin. There is a marble memorial tablet in the little church Newman built for the first Irish Catholic University, which shows in Derwent Wood's medallion a fine craggy profile, and bears the inscription:

IN TENDER MEMORY OF
THOMAS ARNOLD, M. A., SECOND SON OF
DR. ARNOLD OF RUGBY. B. NOV. 30 1823,
D. NOV. 12 1900, IN HIS 77TH YEAR.
EDUCATED AT WINCHESTER, RUGBY, & OXFORD,
FELLOW OF THE ROYAL IRISH UNIVERSITY, &
PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LANGUAGE & LITERATURE
IN THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, DUBLIN.
DOMINE DEUS MEUS, IN TE SPERAVI.

R. I. P.

[Image of page xlii]

So ended the life of one whom his son recalled as 'a man of the thirteenth century astray in the nineteenth'. 52 Perhaps the most sensitive tribute--in language unexpected from a Canon of Canterbury, though to be sure it was written during Tom's return to Anglicanism in the 1860s--came from Dr. Arnold's biographer: 'He is and was one of the gentlest, purest and most ingenuous characters I have ever known, full of ability and of information, to me always instructive and interesting--not so quick or brilliant as his brother Matthew, but without the qualities which in Matthew cause so much alarm to many, and certainly... belonging (to use his brother's words) to--

"That small transfigur'd band
Whom the world cannot tame."' 53

Thomas and Julia Arnold had four sons and four daughters, two of whom became well known as writers. The first child, Mary Augusta, became the novelist Mrs. Humphry Ward; 54 the eldest son, William Thomas (who married 'Etty's' daughter) wrote intelligently, like his grandfather, on Roman history. The second daughter, Julia Frances, born after the return to England from Tasmania, married Dr. Leonard Huxley, and became the mother of Sir Julian Sorell Huxley and the novelist Aldous Huxley. Mrs. Humphry Ward's daughter Janet Penrose wrote her mother's biography; she married the historian G. M. Trevelyan, and her daughter in turn, Mary Moorman, was to write the best modern life of Wordsworth. If the Arnolds and their connexions have won for themselves a firm place among leading English intellectuals of the last hundred years, it is clear that their continuing contribution was notably strengthened by the union of Tom Arnold's unworldly idealism to Julia Sorell's gaiety, spirit, and passionate temper.

The arrangement and editing of the material collected here should be readily apparent. All letters are given in full, with the exception of the fragmentary 'Equator Letters' to J. C. Shairp, of which I was unable to trace either the originals or full copies.

[Image of page xliii]

Clough's letters to Tom Arnold, within the period covered, are given complete for the first time; this makes available to the student of the period a notable literary exchange between two gifted young men who had much in common, at least in these revolutionary years.

From the family letters to Tom on his antipodean venture, a brief selection only has been given: two longish letters from his mother, two from his eldest sister Jane ('K'), and one from his youngest sister Frances. These family letters are not always printed in chronological order, but where they may make most effect: it was my intention to print just enough family material to establish the characters of Tom's chief correspondents. The letters from Clough I have placed in the sequence when Tom would have received them, after the long delay of the ocean mail. Clough was a dilatory correspondent, but Tom Arnold generally replied to Clough almost at once. Matthew Arnold wrote rarely, and though he was always friendly with his younger brother, he was less interested in New Zealand than either the family at Fox How, or Clough. Matthew's influence, however, is felt throughout these letters: he was one intellectual centre of the 'Clougho-Matthean set' 55 of which Tom Arnold handsomely declared Alfred Domett an honorary member. J. C. Shairp was a member of this circle who did write, but he too remains in the wings. What we have here, then, is a continuous thread of Tom Arnold's own narrative and observation from the time he decided to leave England in 1847, covering his embarkation and the voyage out, New Zealand in three main phases (Otago, Wellington, and Nelson), and Van Diemen's Land (first impressions, marriage, settling down). The two chief centres of interest to which this flow of comment is directed are the family at Fox How; and Clough, at first still in Oxford, later at University Hall in London.

Enough annotation has been given, I hope, to make it possible for the general reader to follow this account without difficulty. The special interest of these letters seems to me threefold--historical, personal, and literary. For the British or American reader, it is the early colonial references that call for explanation or clarification; major European events are familiar enough, one hopes, to need no gloss. The personal interest is strongest with Tom Arnold himself, and with Clough; in both cases, some sig-

[Image of page xliv]

nificant details of early biography appear in a fresh light. The literary value of the letters is not confined to some early versions of Clough's poems, sent off half-way round the world to the friend who was most likely to respond to them. There are also Tom Arnold's and Domett's comments on The Bothie, Tom's reactions to his brother's first volume of verse, and many passing remarks on books and writers of the day. To the general reader, especially perhaps in New Zealand and Australia, this book should offer a lively picture of early colonial society, and of the type of mind that was perhaps more often found among early colonists than in their descendants--a mind genuinely reflective if immature, and seriously concerned about principles and human values in a highly pragmatic pioneer environment.

A final reminder may perhaps be allowed. This outline of Tom Arnold's life has shown us a restless veering about the compass of belief in almost every decade, with a final steadying on the twin poles of Newman and Rome. But in 1847, Tom Arnold's Catholicism lay nearly ten years ahead. These letters were written, not by the gentle, self-sacrificing convert, the humble fellow-worker with Newman, that Thomas Arnold became, but by an impetuous young man of twenty-five, his head filled with what his father would certainly have called 'Jacobinical' notions, leaving an old world that disgusted him in hopeful search of a new and better one. Beyond question he saw himself as a Promethean rebel and light-bearer, a secular missionary of the gospel of fraternity to men who would be working with their hands, but would still value the cultivation of their minds. Tom Arnold, for all the books he had read, had very little notion of what he would find on the other side of the world. In these letters, he tells us what he found.

[Image of page xlv]

LETTERS.

[Image of page xlvi]

What's become of Waring
Since he gave us all the slip?

Robert Browning, of Alfred Domett, 1842

If it were not for all these blessed revolutions, I should sink into hopeless lethargy.

A. H. Clough to J. C. Shairp, 1848

I think I shall emigrate; why the devil don't you?

Matthew Arnold to Clough, 1849

Coelum non animum muto dum tram mare curro.

John Milton, on his travels, 1639

1966 - Arnold, Thomas. New Zealand letters of Thomas Arnold the younger... - [Front matter]