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William F. Moulton ; a memoir

Moulton, W. Fiddian , b. 1866, James Hope Moulton · 1899 · Scanned text · Free in the US

91,153 words · about 6 h 23 min to read

Period artwork: Interior of the Bodleian Library, 1845
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Authors
Moulton, W. Fiddian , b. 1866, James Hope Moulton
Language
English
Published
1899
Length
91,153 words · about 6 h 23 min
Sections
10 reader sections
Text
Scanned text, read from page scans by OCR; may contain errors
Rights
Public domain in the United States · PD-US by publication date

 

Contents (10)
  1. Prefatory Note about 1 min
  2. Contents under 1 min
  3. Chapter I about 45 min
  4. Chapter II about 1 h
  5. Chapter III about 26 min
  6. Chapter IV about 1 h 36 min
  7. Chapter V about 1 h 18 min
  8. Chapter VI about 21 min
  9. Chapter VII about 35 min
  10. Chapter VIII about 21 min

Continue:

Prefatory Note

Only a few words are needed to explain the respective shares of my brother and myself in this volume. He contributes the whole of Chapter V, dealing with Dr. Moulton's Biblical work and certain of his opinions ; and here and there are paragraphs which he has added. For the scheme of the book and for the remainder of its contents he has incurred no responsibility, beyond the point of having read it in manuscript and proof.

Those who have assisted, by the loan of letters and in other ways, are far too numerous to mention by name, and I must take this opportunity of thanking them together for having thus made this volume possible. My special thanks are due to the Bishop of Durham ; to the Rev. G. G. Findlay, of Headingley College ; to Mrs. Milligan ; to Mrs. Hort ; to my late colleagues at The Leys, Mr. E. E. Kellett and Mr. St. J. B. Wynne-Willson — now of Rugby — for numerous suggestions ; and, above all, to my valued friend? the Rev. W Blackburn FitzGerald, who, amid io PREFATORY NOTE

the stress of an exceptionally busy life, read most of the book in manuscript and all of it in proof, and to whose taste and care it must be ascribed that there are not more faults in its execution.

W. FIDDIAN MOULTON.

Headingley: August 1899.

Contents

CHAP.

I. EARLY YEARS AND INFLUENCES II. RICHMOND ....

III. NEW TESTAMENT REVISION .

Chapter I

It was in the minister's house in Leek, Staffordshire, that William Fiddian Moulton was born on March 14, 1835, his father, the Rev. James Egan Moulton, having been appointed to that Circuit at the London Conference of 1833. He came of a stock which in all its branches had been thoroughly permeated with the evangelical fervour of the Wesleyan movement, and he entered this world not only a child of the manse but a hereditary Methodist, bound to his Church by innumerable hallowed associations in the lives of those who had been before him.

The family history may be said to commence with John Bakewell, an intimate friend of Mr. Wesley, and well known to the Churches of all lands as the author of the hymn, " Hail, Thou once despised Jesus ! " He preached for seventy-five years, beginning as an evangelist in Derbyshire, his native county, in 1744, five years before he became associated with the Wesleys. A few years later he moved to Greenwich, where he opened a school, and in this he was greatly assisted by his clever daughter, Maria, who had a remarkable knowledge of Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. One of his assistant masters was a Mr. James Egan, of Limerick, afterwards LL.D. of Dublin, and recipient of the gold medal of a learned society for a dissertation upon the best method of teaching Greek. This association of Maria Bakewell and James Egan in educational work, behind which lay a strong similarity of taste and talent, ripened as might be expected into affection, and they became engaged. Very shortly after this took place Mr. John Wesley, who was a frequent visitor at Mr. Bakewell's house, said to him, "Let the young people marry; hand the school over to them, and go thou and preach the Gospel." Mr. Wesley's word was law in those days, and what he advised — or rather commanded — was done. John Bakewell gave himself up to preaching, and James Egan and Maria Bakewell were married.

It is a loss to the Church that no memorial has been preserved of John Bakewell, " a long-tried, exemplary and laborious servant of God " ; for, from his having been acquainted with, and in a measure mixed up with Methodism almost from its very commencement, much that is interesting might have been detailed. His modesty, however, prevented him from preserving any account of the events of his life, and he was unwilling that any one else should record them.

" His granddaughter occasionally attempted to draw from him a few particulars, but when he perceived that her object was to commit them to writing he stopped and became less communicative, and on his dying bed he extorted a promise from my father, whom he had appointed his executor, that nothing should be said respecting him after his death. He died in March 1819, aged ninety-eight, retaining all his faculties to the very last." *

The Egans lived to bring up a large family, but of these only two need be mentioned here. One of the daughters married the Rev. William Moulton (the grandfather of the

* "Memoir of the Rev. William Moulton," by his son, Rev. James Egan Moulton, Wesleyan Methodist Magazine, Nov. 1837.

future Headmaster of The Leys School), who was a frequent visitor to the Egans' house owing to Greenwich being then one of the preaching places "in the London circuit." Another daughter, who remained unmarried, settled in Worcester and opened there a preparatory school for boys, whither at the age of eight, or less, William Fiddian Moulton went to receive his first initiation into scholarship at the hands of his great-aunt. She was a woman of great mental activity and width of reading, and an excellent classical scholar, whilst her physical vitality must have been extraordinary, for she lived on into her hundredth year, only passing away four or five years ago, in spite of having, at the age of eighty, fallen downstairs and broken her thigh, an accident which permanently crippled her. As was the case with her grandfather, she retained her faculties to the last.

The Rev. William Moulton, who married the elder Miss Egan, was not a Methodist by descent. His parents were firmly attached to the Church of England, and did not regard with favour young William's strong disposition to join the Wesleyan Society, his father telling him curtly that he would change his mind very soon, and then his parents would be ashamed "to have a son that was a turn-coat." But Robert Moulton, for all his real goodness and strict uprightness, was here face to face with a phenomenon which he had not the requisite perception to understand. Living in the cold respectability of the Established Church of the eighteenth century, he was one of those many godly men who looked with disfavour and distrust upon the violent cataclysms which accompanied the preaching of the Wesleys and their associates, and who had not learned the nature and the obligation of the New Birth. William Moulton was not the victim of a whim or a mere well-meaning emotion. He had casually entered a Methodist chapel, and what he heard there came home to him with such force that he went frequently. On one occasion Mr. George Walker — a man who was thought very highly of among the Methodists of the later decades of the last century — was preaching, and young Moulton was so much impressed that, on learning that Mr. Walker was a class-leader among the Methodists, he then and there formed the resolution to join his class. Whilst under the spiritual care of this good man, he was led to see more clearly his need of salvation, and after a few months, during the Watch-night service of 1786, he entered into the " liberty of the children of God." On the death of the leader of the class, William Moulton was asked to take his place, a strong testimony to his stability of character and judgment in speaking of the things of God, for it was a most unusual thing in those days to appoint as leader one so young. But the choice was fully justified by events : in time he had the joy of welcoming to his class his father and mother, who at first had been pained and perplexed by his departure from the Church of England, but had afterwards seen in it the leading of the Spirit of God. This position he continued to occupy till 1794, and only left it to enter upon the work of the ministry to which he felt himself called.

In 1 801 he was appointed to City Road, London, and had for one year the high privilege — for he always spoke of it as such — of living in the same house with the Rev. Joseph Benson, who was then the Superintendent of the Circuit • and the influence of that intercourse contributed greatly to the enrichment of his ministry. It was largely instrumental in maturing his ideas and developing the same insight into Scripture which characterised his son, James Egan, and in a higher degree his grandson, William Fiddian. It was often his lot to preach in the presence of that master of exposition, and at first he came to those appointments in fear and trembling, but he subsequently found out what thousands of young preachers have found out since his time, that it is the truly small, not the truly great, who are to be feared as critics. Mr. Benson's comments, so far from being a terror to his young colleague, became an inspiration, for it was all so kindly done that adverse criticism lost its power to depress, and words of commendation, coming from such a quarter, were an unspeakable source of encouragement.

Very many of the Rev. William Moulton's characteristics reappeared later in his grandson. He was pre-eminently a man of peace, and he was unceasingly thankful that in no Circuit in which he laboured had he been so unhappy as to witness a division in the Society. But this love of peace did not result, as often it does, in weakness and indecision : on the contrary, he seems to have been a man of great firmness and determination of conduct. In the execution of what he regarded as his duty he was inflexible, and manifested a sublime disregard for unpleasant consequences. His firmness and palpable sincerity won for him the respect even of those who differed from him ; while on his side he contributed a disposition to make allowances for those whose intentions were good, even when their actions were indefensible, and also a wondrously forgiving spirit whereby he disarmed and converted into friends persons who under slightly different treatment would have been made into determined opponents. Another notable characteristic, which will also re-appear over and over again in this volume as manifested in his grandson, was his truly catholic spirit. He had the gift of uniting with a firm allegiance to his own Church a close attachment to those whose opinions upon ecclesiastical matters widely differed from his own ; and such was his freedom from narrow contentiousness that during his residence at Grantham the vicar of Welby, in that neighbourhood, would accompany him frequently when he went to preach in the villages around, and the friendship thus generated lasted long after his removal from the Circuit. At Leicester he was intimate with Robert Hall, who used to speak to him in terms of high estimation concerning many features of the Methodist system — a disposition which was far rarer then than now.

William Moulton's family was large enough to tax the resources of any minister, especially in times when the financial position of the ministry was lower than it is to-day; and the fact that Mrs. Moulton reared a large family so well upon so little is a powerful testimony to her capacity and patience. There were fifteen children born to them, though three died in early childhood, and three more before they grew up. But it will be easily understood that for the remaining nine there would be little in the way of the luxuries of life, and what they were to be in the future would, they knew, depend upon their own endeavour : their father would have nothing to bequeath to them beyond an honoured name and a perfect example. William, the eldest child, was a lad of extraordinary promise, and tales concerning his gifts lived on for years at Woodhouse Grove School, of which he was head-boy. He however died at sixteen.

James Egan Moulton, the father of William Fiddian Moulton, went to Old Kingswood School — Wesley's foundation for the sons of preachers — at eight years of age. He stayed there for seven years, having received the " extra year " for his attainments and good behaviour — fourteen being the normal limit of age. In the recently published "History of Kingswood School " his name appears first in the first prize list of the school. He then stayed for another seven years as a master — (a master at fifteen ! )— until he left the school to enter the ministry, whither he was shortly followed by the two brothers next to him in age— John Bakewell and Ebenezer. The former died of influenza only seven years after he entered upon the work : he was a brilliant preacher of the evangelistic type, and early wore himself out by his ceaseless labours. But the latter continued in active service almost up to the time of his death in 1885. "He was firm in Methodist doctrine and polity: was meek, gentle, loving and unselfish. His mind was well stored, and his preaching was impressive, instructive and edifying. He greatly excelled as a pastor, and won the hearts of the people of his charge." * James Egan Moulton, to judge from all accounts, was a great favourite among the boys, and must have had the gift — which afterwards was conspicuously manifest in his son — of making his teaching interesting : indeed a late Governor of the school used to assert that in his time it was said that the boys " would rather do sums with Mr. Moulton than play," which, if true, points to a woeful course of degeneration in the species since that day.

But whether or not his power of imparting knowledge reached that almost unthinkable height, he was certainly a great student, remarkable both for the thoroughness of his knowledge and for its extraordinary breadth. He was a mathematician above the average ; he had an extensive knowledge of Greek and Latin authors, and he " could read Hebrew like a Jew." There still remains in the memory of his eldest surviving sont the vivid recollection of seeing his father do three things at the same time.

" One day, while he was Chairman of the Northampton District, he was making up his schedules ; at the same time he was reading a Latin author with Richard^ and a Greek author with John.H

* " Minutes of Conference," 1885.

t Rev. Dr. James Egan Moulton, Principal of Newington College, Sydney, N.S.W. ; Ex-President New South Wales Conference. t Dr. R. G. Moulton, Professor of Literature in English, Chicago, U.S.A. || J. Fletcher Moulton, Q.C., F.R.S., M.P.

zo WILLIAM F. MOULTON

Now he would be adding up a column, muttering ' I must write to that brother,' and in the next breath : ' Get on, John, what are you stopping for ? ' — ' Can't find a nominative case, papa ! ' — 'Look about three lines down, so and so.' — ' Oh, yes ! ' and John would construe. Then it was Richard's turn, and at every sign of hesitation his father would suggest the missing adjective or verb, or whatever it might be. All the while the^ adding up of columns was going on, and the muttered praises or objurgations on the brethren."

In face of such testimony to the orderliness of his mind it is not surprising to learn from Dr. Benjamin Gregory, who knew him well, that quite early in his ministerial life he acquired the title of " Arrangement Moulton " because of his instinct for order and administration. Nor will those who knew the inner life at the Leys School fail to see that this gift with many others passed from the father to the son.

In the case of the Moulton family there seemed but one natural field for the exercise of such talents. Not that other vocations in life were under-rated in the matter of their capacity for Christian service, but it seemed so natural to offer the best to the Lord if by an inward call He signified His willingness to accept the offering. James Egan Moulton entered the ministry in 1828, and remained in Circuit work until, in 1864, he was obliged to retire, worn out by service. He settled in Cambridge, where he died in June 1866. Dr. Gregory said of him :

" His cheerfulness was radiant, and most healthfully catching ; and being broadly built and blessed with a steady flow of spirits, he seemed likely to enjoy a long and energetic ministerial career. . . . He was a thorough Methodist preacher, lively, spiritual, energetic, indefatigable. ... He was one of the very few men who have had much to do with tutorship who betrayed nothing of the pedagogue in after life."

So it was that in this home the sons grew up to see in religion an all-pervading, illuminating, gladdening influence, and to find in the Methodist ministry a vocation of which no man had need to be ashamed, second to none for its opportunities of doing and receiving good.

But no consideration of the formative influences in the life of William Fiddian Moulton would be complete without reference to his mother, Catharine Fiddian, daughter of Mr. William Fiddian, a brass-founder in Birmingham. Her father was Circuit Steward, and consequently saw a great deal of the Methodist preachers, especially the younger ones, who would usually stay at their house. Whether it was of the men themselves that she formed a bad opinion — it could hardly be that — or whether it was the laborious lives they had to lead, at any rate she was often heard to say that she " would never marry a Methodist preacher — never ! " But in spite of all these brave words, when James Egan Moulton came to the house her woman's heart capitulated. They formed a remarkable pair ; for, great as were his attainments and intellectual powers, she was quite his equal, though her gifts had the distinctive colouring of a woman's nature. She had a fine mind, and great powers of conversation, when she chose to use them, but she was a thorough woman according to the ideal of fifty years ago. She went as near to worshipping her husband as so saintly a woman could go, and her tender love for her children, her considerateness, her strong, wise counsel, left an absolutely indelible impression upon the minds and hearts of those who knew her best.

But it was not so much her intellectual as her moral gifts which made her what she was to her children. The consciousness that with this intellectuality there were associated strong living sympathy and a passion for godliness made the relations between them peculiarly close and tender, and made her an ideal counsellor in times of trouble and perplexity. The following extract from a letter written to her husband after her death by her brother, the Rev. Samuel Fiddian, embodies the main features of her character :

" From the first she manifested unwavering decision and spirit of activity in the service of her Lord. Her energy of mind in pursuing such labours of love as were opened to her by the providence and Church of God often disturbed her health. Her spirit, always ardent, found a genial atmosphere in the service of Christ and the Church, too stimulating perhaps for the mortal frame. Her sympathy was lively and large. A large-hearted sympathy I consider one of her prominent features, and one which gave her great influence for good. In those days she was punctual in the use of the means of grace, public and private. Distance, weather, engagements, would not hinder her from her attendance at the class meeting, the preaching of the Word, &c. From the character of her home and her early piety, all her views and habits were formed according to the Word of God. For twenty-nine years we have been separated, with but few opportunities of personal intercourse, and a very scanty correspondence (through the numerous and weighty engagements of both parties), but that correspondence has always been such as feeds piety, and tends to prepare for that world of glory in which she is now found."

But if the relations between the mother and all the children were close and tender, between her and her eldest son William there was an especially close tie. She leaned on him in everything, while at the same time he was ever looking up to her for guidance. One of the most characteristic of her letters was written to him within three hours of her death in September 1855 — for the mother died with almost the same tragic suddenness as the son. It reveals a woman of an essentially spiritual mind, and although she had an undisguised dread of sudden death, she was undoubtedly ready for the great change whenever it should come.

" Guernsey, Sept. 2, 1835.

"My very dear William, — It would afford me much pleasure if I could just now enjoy some spiritual converse with you, being deprived of public ordinances through indisposition of body ; but as this cannot be done I write to beg you will pray more frequently for me, and, if time and other duties will permit, you will write to me and say something that shall tend to my spiritual profit. The older I grow the more I feel that there is nothing worth a thought beneath but how I might escape the death that never dies. And yet I was never more occupied in the discharge of lawful duties than at the present time. Do you try to join me at the throne of grace, the first thing after dinner, for the spiritual welfare of our family. You are our eldest, and we look to you for help and counsel in reference to our dear children, and I am quite sure you do help us to carry our burden. May the Lord reward you for this labour of love.

" Papa was five weeks at Conference in consequence of his being made chairman of the district : business required it. Since his return he has had so many extra duties to attend to that letter-writing has been out of the question. It would have cheered you to have seen how well he looked. A. has been my nurse, as you will perceive by the enclosed letters that aunt is in England. I was poorly before she went, but we hoped it would pass off in a few days, but this has not been the case, though we hope I shall now soon be better. Do not say anything to aunt about it if you should write.

" O my dear William, whatever else you neglect let God be sought and loved. May you and I be more determined to let religion be our first aim. There are many young people that are seeking the Lord ; O may they be faithful. I perceive in reading and conversing in reference to the cause of God that one of the greatest stumbling-blocks in the way of our salvation is ' pride.' To possess a humble mind is of the greatest advantage to the Christian. May you and I follow on to know the Lord. I want a stronger faith. Do unite with me where this inestimable blessing may be possessed. Papa joins with me in much love and " Believe me to be, your own dear mamma,

" C. Moulton."

Cast very much in the same mould was her brother Samuel, mentioned above. For fifty-four years a Wesleyan minister, he was highly prized as a friend and counsellor, and when he died in 1880 it was left on record concerning him that " in times of strife he was very useful in preventing mischief and in healing wounded spirits." His three sons, Samuel, William and James — the two last of whom occupied high positions in the Indian Civil Service — were marked throughout their Cambridge University career, and subsequently, by their strong and unswerving loyalty to the Church of their fathers.

The boyhood of William Fiddian Moulton was, so far as one can judge from the scanty records of it, in great measure unlike that of most young lads. I should have said totally unlike, were it not for a story which the Rev. N. Curnock, the Editor of the Methodist Recorder, tells concerning that period. Mr. Curnock's father followed the Rev. J. E. Moulton in the Wednesbury Circuit, and on their arrival the Circuit Stewards apologised to Mrs. Curnock for the condition in which they feared she would find the crockeryware of the house. The previous minister, they said, had a little boy — he could then have been only three or four years old — who had a mischievous habit of smashing the crockery. It would appear that the boy thus worked off his allotted portion of original sin before he went to school. At any rate, if the reminiscences of those who knew him during his school-days are to be trusted, he seems to have given the impression of being a portentously serious young person. He showed from the first a passion for study such as rarely embarrasses preceptors in these days, and the pleasures of crockery-smashing gave place to the more constructive delights of reading and music. Unlike other boys of his age he took no interest in sports, so far as practical participation was concerned, and while other boys were in the playground enjoying themselves in their way, he would be deriving his delight poring over some solid volume in a retired nook. From all that he used to say in later years it is safe to infer, however, that this total abstinence from games was not of choice but of necessity, for his sight — though good — was so short that from the age of eleven he was compelled to wear glasses. He was wont to regret bitterly, in conversation with his boys at Cambridge, that his deficiencies in the matter of eyesight had prevented his ever playing cricket, for that was a game for which he was wont to show at all times the greatest enthusiasm. This abstention from games, combined with an increasing eagerness in acquiring knowledge, marked him off from other boys both at school and at home. Not that he was unloving or unsympathetic in the home ; far from it ; but his disposition and tastes were those of one who was mature, rather than of a schoolboy, and all his brothers and sisters were accustomed to class him not with themselves — although the differences of age were not conspicuously great — but with their father and mother. One day they came to their aunt Sarah with the piteous appeal, " Wasn't William ever naughty ? It would make us feel so much nearer to him if he had been naughty like us." After thinking for a long time she said, "Yes: he once flew into a violent passion!" Horrible thought, that a violent passion should be welcomed as a sign of grace 1 Still, there is no denying that it was so, for it seemed to bring their brother within, just within, their own world.

At the early age usual in those Spartan days he went to Woodhouse Grove School, near Leeds, one of the two branches of the institution founded by John Wesley for the education of his preachers' sons. The rigours of school life in those days may be well seen in some of the following reminiscences which forty years later he suppliedTor Mr. J. T. Slugg's memorials of the School, after the concentration of the whole foundation at Bath. It may be observed before giving these quotations that he was a very delicate little boy, " hardly expected to live to manhood " and suffering greatly from asthma. On one occasion he was so ill that his father was sent for as "he was believed to be dying." Happily, on his arrival he found the invalid in the playground. With such a constitution, however, one almost wonders that the boy survived some of the experiences described below. Dr. Moulton says :

" The first and most painful incident in my Grove life was the death of four of my schoolfellows, three from brain fever and one from typhus. I have no doubt that the small ill-ventilated dormitories of that time were responsible for this terrible mortality. The food supplied to us (1846 to 1850) was homely but generally wholesome. Our greatest hardship was being compelled to eat puddings which had been ' turned ' during thundery weather. The badly cooked rice, which was our substitute for potatoes during the Irish famine of '48, was another grievance."

Another old Grove boy describes the rice as "either boiled very dry and then anointed with a thin unguent composed of treacle and warm water, or else baked in huge black tins, in which it looked as if it had been trodden under foot of men. Breakfast consisted of a thick slice of dry bread and about half a pint of skimmed milk, occasionally sour, and sometimes slightly warmed in winter. Supper was an exact repetition of breakfast. Butter, tea and coffee we never saw."

11 1 am often struck with the remembrance of our isolation from the world in which the stirring events of that time were happening. A newspaper seldom reached us, and the French Revolution was little more than a rumour. I do remember that the cholera panic of '49 extended to us, even in the absence of newspapers, and a grim memory it is."

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