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Updated: June 15, 2025
What I held in 1816 I held in 1833, and I hold in 1864. Please God I shall hold it to the end. Even when I was under Dr. Whately's influence I had no temptation to be less zealous for the dogmas of the faith.
For this young girl there sprang up in Mary Whately's heart a deep and warm affection; she called her and treated her as her daughter, and both before and after her marriage in the summer of 1868 she resided under Miss Whately's roof.
"An' as for this boy," Judson broke in, not noticing Cam's joke, "as to his looks," he stroked his slick light brown hair, "a little baldness gives dignity, makes a man look like a man. Who'd want to have hair like a girl's? But Mrs. Whately's too wise not to do well by her daughter. She knows the value of a dollar, and a man makin' it himself." "Well, why not set your cap fur the widder?
Newman's path. They had been Fellows together since 1826, and Tutors since 1827. Mr. Froude, with his Toryism and old-fashioned churchmanship, would not unnaturally be shy of a friend of Whately's with his reputation for theological liberalism. Froude's first letter to Mr. Newman is in August 1828.
"You do not think less" and then she paused in troubled silence. "Louise," called Mrs. Whately's voice. "Yes," replied the girl, "we are coming." "I think you will always try to do what seems right to you, Miss Baron. May God help and guide you, for you may have trouble of which you little dream. What you say about your side and my side has no place in my thoughts.
But the difficulty of securing sufficient funds to carry on her work efficiently was always one of Mary Whately's chief burdens, and she was often obliged to make up deficiencies herself. During her occasional visits to England, which latterly occurred only once in two or three years, she was largely occupied in addressing public and drawing-room meetings on behalf of her work. But to return.
Many a man, a business man, now, wouldn't have done as I'm doin'. I'll marry Marjie. That saves you from poverty. It saves Irving Whately's name from lastin' disgrace, and it saves Baronet's boy.
Perkins did not suspect the ruse, the disguise was so good and Whately's right to appear so unquestioned; but he felt defrauded in having no part in the vengeance which he supposed would be wreaked on Scoville. After a moment or two of thought, he obeyed the impulse to follow, hoping to see what Whately intended to do, and if circumstances warranted, to be near to help.
There was just enough sting of truth in Whately's words to make the insult unendurable. Added to this was intense exasperation that he had been interrupted at a critical and, as he believed, a hopeful, moment. He had seen that the girl was not ready for his suit or that of any one at present, but was quite sure he could have won permission to renew his addresses in the future.
Moreover, Archbishop Whately's essay is little better than an expansion of the first paragraph of Hume's famous essay on the Immortality of the Soul: "By the mere light of reason it seems difficult to prove the immortality of the soul; the arguments for it are commonly derived either from metaphysical topics, or moral, or physical.
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