W.R. Inge

William Ralph Inge (June 6, 1860 – February 26, 1954) was an English preacher, Anglican priest, and scholar whose intellectual ministry as Dean of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London and prolific writings earned him the nickname “The Gloomy Dean.” Born in Crayke, Yorkshire, to Rev. William Inge, a curate and later Provost of Worcester College, Oxford, and Susanna Churton, daughter of an archdeacon, he grew up in a staunchly high-church family. Educated at Eton College as a King’s Scholar, where he won the Newcastle Scholarship in 1879, Inge excelled at King’s College, Cambridge, earning first-class honors in the Classical Tripos. Ordained a deacon in 1888 after teaching at Eton (1884–1888), he married Mary Catharine Spooner in 1905, finding personal stability in middle age that eased his earlier melancholy. Inge’s preaching career blended academic rigor with pastoral influence. After serving as a tutor at Hertford College, Oxford (1888–1904), he became vicar of All Saints, Knightsbridge (1905–1907), then Lady Margaret Professor of Divinity at Cambridge (1907–1911). Appointed Dean of St. Paul’s in 1911 by Prime Minister Asquith, he served until 1934, drawing large congregations with sermons that fused Christian mysticism and neoplatonic philosophy—most notably in The Philosophy of Plotinus (1918), his Gifford Lectures. His Outspoken Essays (1919, 1922) and Lay Thoughts of a Dean (1926, 1931), alongside a long Evening Standard column (1921–1946), showcased his sharp critiques of Roman Catholicism, social welfare, and naive progressivism, earning three Nobel Prize in Literature nominations. A proponent of experiential faith over institutional authority, he opposed dogma while defending reason in religion.
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W.R. Inge emphasizes the importance of choosing the life of Christ above all others, even though it may be bitter to our nature and selfish desires. He explains that true knowledge of the one true good, which is found in Christ, surpasses all other partial knowledge and leads to a deep love and desire for the perfect good. Inge highlights that following the life of Christ requires abandoning self-centered pursuits and embracing the cross, even if it goes against our natural inclinations and preferences. He warns against being deceived by worldly comforts and self-centered pursuits, stressing the necessity of letting go of everything to truly know Christ's eternal truth and life.
The Life of Christ
We ought truly to know and believe that no life is so noble, or good, or pleasing to God, as the life of Christ. And yet it is to nature and selfishness the most bitter of all lives. For to nature, and selfishness, and the Me, a life of careless freedom is the sweetest and pleasantest, but it is not the best; indeed, in some men it may be the worst. But the life of Christ, though it be the bitterest of all, should be preferred above all. And hereby ye shall know this. There is an inward sight which is able to perceive the one true good, how that it is neither this nor that, but that it is that of which St Paul says: "When that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away." By this he signifies that what is whole and perfect excels all the parts, and that all which is imperfect, and in part, is as nothing compared to what is perfect. In like manner, all knowledge of the parts is swallowed up when the whole is known. And where the good is known, it cannot fail to be desired and loved so greatly, that all other love, with which a man has loved himself, and other things, vanishes away. Moreover, that inward sight perceives what is best and noblest in all things, and loves it in the one true good, and for the sake of the true good alone. Where this inward sight exists, a man perceives truly that the life of Christ is the best and noblest life, and that it is therefore to be chosen above all others; and therefore he willingly accepts and endures it, without hesitation or complaining, whether it is pleasing or displeasing to nature and other men, and whether he himself likes or dislikes it, and finds it sweet or bitter. Therefore, whenever this perfect and true good is known, the life of Christ must be followed, until the decease of the body. If any man vainly deems otherwise, he is deceived, and if any man says otherwise, he tells a lie; and in whatever man the life of Christ is not, he will never know the true good or the eternal truth. But let no one imagine that we can attain to this true light and perfect knowledge, and to the life of Christ, by much questioning, or by listening to others, or by reading and study, or by ability and deep learning. For so long as a man is occupied with anything which is this or that, whether it be himself or any other creature; or does anything, or forms plans, or opinions, or objects, he comes not to the life of Christ. Christ Himself declared as much, for He said: "If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me." "And if any man hate not his father and mother, and wife and children, and brethren and sisters, yea and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple." He means this: "He who does not give up and abandon everything can never know My eternal truth, nor attain to My life." And even if this had not been declared to us, the truth itself proclaims it, for so verily it is. But as long as a man holds fast to the rudiments and fragments of this world, and above all to himself, and is conversant with them, and sets great store by them, he is deceived and blinded, and perceives what is good only in so far as is convenient and agreeable to himself and profitable to his own objects. Since then the life of Christ is in all ways most bitter to nature and the self and the Me--for in the true life of Christ nature and the self and the Me must be abandoned and lost and suffered to die completely--therefore in all of us nature has a horror of it, and deems it evil and unjust and foolish; and she strives after such a life as shall be most agreeable and pleasant to ourselves; and says, and believes too in her blindness, that such a life is the best of all. Now nothing is so agreeable and pleasant to nature as a free and careless manner of life. To this therefore she clings, and takes enjoyment in herself and her powers, and thinks only of her own peace and comfort. And this is especially likely to happen, when a man has high natural gifts of reason, for reason mounts up in its own light and by its own power, till at last it comes to think itself the true eternal light, and gives itself out to be such; and it is thus deceived in itself, and deceives others at the same time, people who know no better and are prone to be so deceived. xviii.-xx.
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William Ralph Inge (June 6, 1860 – February 26, 1954) was an English preacher, Anglican priest, and scholar whose intellectual ministry as Dean of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London and prolific writings earned him the nickname “The Gloomy Dean.” Born in Crayke, Yorkshire, to Rev. William Inge, a curate and later Provost of Worcester College, Oxford, and Susanna Churton, daughter of an archdeacon, he grew up in a staunchly high-church family. Educated at Eton College as a King’s Scholar, where he won the Newcastle Scholarship in 1879, Inge excelled at King’s College, Cambridge, earning first-class honors in the Classical Tripos. Ordained a deacon in 1888 after teaching at Eton (1884–1888), he married Mary Catharine Spooner in 1905, finding personal stability in middle age that eased his earlier melancholy. Inge’s preaching career blended academic rigor with pastoral influence. After serving as a tutor at Hertford College, Oxford (1888–1904), he became vicar of All Saints, Knightsbridge (1905–1907), then Lady Margaret Professor of Divinity at Cambridge (1907–1911). Appointed Dean of St. Paul’s in 1911 by Prime Minister Asquith, he served until 1934, drawing large congregations with sermons that fused Christian mysticism and neoplatonic philosophy—most notably in The Philosophy of Plotinus (1918), his Gifford Lectures. His Outspoken Essays (1919, 1922) and Lay Thoughts of a Dean (1926, 1931), alongside a long Evening Standard column (1921–1946), showcased his sharp critiques of Roman Catholicism, social welfare, and naive progressivism, earning three Nobel Prize in Literature nominations. A proponent of experiential faith over institutional authority, he opposed dogma while defending reason in religion.