little real pastoral impulse at this, if indeed at any time, and his
view was individualistic. The community, in his mind, was to exist not,
I believe, for discipline or extension of thought, or even for
solidarity of action; it was rather to be a fortress of quiet for the
encouragement of similar individual impulses. He used to talk a good
deal about his plans for the community in these days--and it is
interesting to compare with this the fact that I had already written a
book, never published, about a literary community on the same sort of
lines, while to go a little further back, it may be remembered that at
one time my father and Westcott used to entertain themselves with
schemes for what they called a _Coenobium_, which was to be an
institution in which married priests with their families were to lead a
common life with common devotions.

But I used to be reminded, in hearing Hugh detail his plans, of the case
of a friend of ours, whom I will call Lestrange, who had at one time
entered a Benedictine monastery as a novice. Lestrange used to talk
about himself in an engaging way in the third person, and I remember him
saying that the reason why he left the monastery was "because Lestrange
found that he could only be an inmate of a monastery in which Lestrange
was also Abbot!" I did not feel that in Hugh's community there would be
much chance of the independent expression of the individualities of his
associates!

He was ordained deacon in 1894 at Addington, or rather in Croydon parish
church, by my father, whose joy in admitting his beloved son to the
Anglican ministry was very great indeed.

Before the ordination Hugh decided to go into solitary retreat. He took
two rooms in the lodge-cottage of Burton Park, two or three miles out