Unrigorous British mathematics prior to G.H. Hardy I was looking at a bio-movie of Ramanujan last night. Very poignant.
Also impressed by Jeremy Irons' portrayal of G.H. Hardy.
In G.H. Hardy's wiki page, we read:
. . . "Hardy cited as his most important influence his independent study of Cours d'analyse de l'École Polytechnique by the French mathematician Camille Jordan, through which he became acquainted with the more precise mathematics tradition in continental Europe."
and
. . . "Hardy is credited with reforming British mathematics by bringing rigour into it, which was previously a characteristic of French, Swiss and German mathematics. British mathematicians had remained largely in the tradition of applied mathematics, in thrall to the reputation of Isaac Newton (see Cambridge Mathematical Tripos). Hardy was more in tune with the cours d'analyse methods dominant in France, and aggressively promoted his conception of pure mathematics, in particular against the hydrodynamics that was an important part of Cambridge mathematics."
Are we to understand from this that up to the late 1800s, British mathematics used only partial or inductive proofs or what ?
On the face of it, this would have been quite a state of affairs.
What exactly - in general or by a specific example - did Hardy bring to mathematics by way of rigour that had previously been absent ?
If someone introduced a new and sketchily proven theorem in the days of Hardy's childhood - and we are talking about Victorian times here (...) - then surely all the mean old men of the profession would have been disapproving of it and would obstruct its publication ?
 A: The following subsection of Hardy's Divergent Series (zbMath link, freely available on Archive.org) occupies pages 18-20, and gives his thoughts on the matter and some citations. In particular he gives the example of Transactions of the Cambridge Philosophical Society, Vol. 8 (Archive.org link) (see bolded text below). I've taken some text out for brevity, but the whole section (and every part of the book I have read) is a joy to read.

1.7. A note on the British analysts of the early nineteenth century.
We end this chapter with a few remarks about British work on these subjects during the years 1840-50, which has been analysed very carefully by Burkhardt in the article from which we have quoted. It was a long time before the writings of the great continental analysts were understood in England, and these British writings show a singular and often entertaining mixture of occasional shrewdness and fundamental incompetence.
(1) The dominant school was that of the Cambridge 'symbolists',
Woodhouse, Peacock, D. F. Gregory, and others. They represented what
may be described as the ' $f(D)$ ' school of analysis. They started
from 'algebra', and had something of the spirit, though nothing of the
accuracy, of tho modern abstract algebraists. They dealt in 'general
symbols', on which operations were to be performed in accordance with
certain laws: 'the symbols are unlimited, both in value and in
representation; the operations upon them, whatever they may be, are
possible in all cases; ...' But the foundations of their symbolism
were both inelastic and inaccurate. 'They insisted on a parallelism
between 'arithmetical' and 'general' algebra so rigid that, if it
could be maintained, it would effectively destroy the generality; and
they never seem to have realized fully that a formula true with one
interpretation of its symbols is quite likely to be false with
another. They were also very much at the mercy of catchwords like
'what is true up to the limit...', and it is not surprising that their
permanent contribution to analysis should have been negligible.
[...]
(2) There is one volume of the Transactions of the Cambridge Philosophical Society (vol. 8, published in 1849 and covering the period 1844-9) which contains a very singular mixture of analytical papers and gives a particularly good picture of the British analysis of the time. It contains Stokes's famous paper ' On the critical values of the sums of periodic series', in which 'uniform convergence' appears first in print; papers by S. Earnshaw and J. R. Young which are little more than nonsense; and a long and interesting paper by de Morgan on divergent series, a remarkable mixture of acuteness and confusion.
[...]

A: The quote in question contrasts Hardy’s rigor with “the hydrodynamics that was an important part of Cambridge mathematics.”
So to understand Hardy’s role, it makes sense to look at that hydrodynamics, e.g. Alfred Basset’s “Treatise on Hydrodynamics, with Numerous Examples”, conveniently available online at the Internet Archive. (Since Basset studied math at Cambridge, did his math afterwards without any professorship, and published multiple editions of this book with Cambridge University Press, I think it’s fair to call this “Cambridge math”; one could probably find this or similar books listed in Cambridge math syllabi too.)
Browsing through the book, I do not see a lot of proofs; I see calculations from mathematical hypotheses deemed appropriate for various physical problems.
So Hardy brought his rigor to pure mathematics; what came before him in England was less about pure mathematics done unrigorously, and more about applied mathematics done under different constraints.
A: Rigor and Clarity: Foundations of Mathematics in France and England, 1800-1840 explains in some detail how British mathematicians in the early 19th century viewed the role of rigor in the formulation and proof of mathematical theorems.

Rigor is now accepted as a universal good in mathematics. The
differences between the French and the English at the turn of the
century indicate that this was not always the case. [...] For Cauchy
mathematical rigor was achieved when mathematical terms were defined
unambiguously, so that they could be confidently used in subsequent
proofs. The English did not agree that the essence of mathematics was
captured in the abstract notion of rigor advocated by Cauchy and his
school.
For the nineteenth-century English, mathematical theorems, no matter
how beautifully proved, did not stand alone. Their validity lay in the
concepts they illuminated; these concepts existed independently of the
systems describing them. In this view mathematics was not created, it
was discovered, and the value of the discovery lay in the
understandings it generated rather than in the mathematical structure
itself.
The English constructed for the subject a conceptual foundation that
they found both strong and appropriate. Rigor as Cauchy and his
followers understood it failed to capture the true spirit of
legitimate mathematical development. The English would have agreed
with the French that mathematics must be exact, but for them
exactitude concerned the fit of mathematical definition to underlying
concept, rather than precision in use. This way of seeing the issue
supported an English style, just as Cauchy's notions of rigor came to
support a French style, throughout the century.

A: The excellent answers by Carlo Beenakker and Padraig Ó Catháin have inspired me to do some reading, and I have come to the understanding that the contrast between English and Continental mathematics alluded to in Trunk's quote was not solely one of "rigor," at least not in the sense in which I understand the word "rigor." To me, rigor has to do with the precision of one's definitions and statements and the logical correctness of one's proofs. On the other hand, it seems that the debates during the time period in question had at least as much to do with what I would call the role of abstraction in mathematics as with rigor per se.
Joan Richards, in the paper cited by Beenakker, gives as an example Lagrange's approach to developing calculus on the basis of Taylor series rather than on infinitesimals.  (Since Lagrange was French and Taylor was English, this already poses some challenges to any attempt to draw a sharp line between English mathematics and French mathematics, but never mind that for now.)  According to Richards, Lagrange was motivated in part by an attempt to avoid the perceived lack of rigor associated with infinitesimals.  On the other hand, if you take a Taylor series approach, then there arises the question of rigorously proving the existence and uniqueness of a Taylor series.  From a modern point of view, one could argue that if one is simply developing a theory of formal power series, then the manipulation of Taylor series is perfectly rigorous; but then that raises the question of whether mathematics should be concerned with studying pure abstractions or whether it needs to stay connected to concrete examples and applications to physics.
Richards tries to argue that French mathematicians were more comfortable with working with formal abstractions independently of any connection to concrete examples, whereas English mathematicians were more concerned with having their feet firmly planted on the ground of concrete examples.  Another example she cites is De Morgan's account of Cauchy's theory of limits.  It is well known that Cauchy's definition of limits was a major step toward making calculus rigorous by modern standards.  De Morgan, who was British, clearly had high regard for Cauchy's work and was trying to encourage others to study Cauchy, but Richards emphasizes that De Morgan took great pains to elaborate Cauchy's terse abstractions with plenty of concrete examples.  Once again this seems to me a difference not in rigor, but in one's attitude toward "abstract" versus "concrete." Similarly, Babbage (who was English) criticized the obscurity of infinitesimals, and so does not support a narrative that English mathematicians were unconcerned with rigor (again, as I understand the term "rigor").
Another interesting example cited by Richards is George Peacock.   Peacock promoted something he called the "principle of the permanence of equivalent forms." According to Richards, Peacock "baldly asserted the legitimacy of
generalizing from the truth of specific arithmetic forms, through the truth of their
symbolical counterparts, to the truth of their algebraic forms. So, for example, it
allowed one to pass from
$$5^2 - 3^2 = (5 + 3)(5 - 3)$$
and other similar cases, through the generalization that
$$a^2 - b^2 = (a + b)(a - b), \quad\text{when $a$ is greater than $b$}$$
to the even more general statement that
$$a^2 - b^2 = (a + b)(a - b), \quad\text{whatever the values of $a$ and $b$.}$$
The truth of this final statement is meaningless in the arithmetic of counting numbers
from whence it was generalized, because negative numbers do not exist there. Its
validity, therefore, rested squarely on Peacock's quasi-inductive principle. Peacock's
principle is the epitome of the inductive approach that Cauchy derided in his 1821
Cours."  At first glance, this does seem to support the claim that English mathematicians such as Peacock were not so concerned with rigor, and perhaps goes some way toward explaining the examples from Sylvester and Cayley that Padraig Ó Catháin cited.
The following passage from  George Peacock and the British origins of symbolical algebra, by Helena M. Pycior, also seems to suggest, at first glance, that Peacock himself regarded his work as lacking the rigor of arithmetic and Euclidean geometry:

Arithmetic and geometry, he argued, were based upon axioms which were "necessary and self-evident consequences
of the definitions"; in symbolical algebra, however, there were
"properly speaking, no axioms, since the propositions, immediately deducible from the definitions and assumptions, must be
considered rather as the necessary and immediate consequences
of defined operations, than the necessary and self-evident results of reasoning." … He explained, "We are supposed to be in possession of a science
of arithmetical algebra … whose laws of combination are capable of strict demonstration, without the aid of any principle
which is not furnished by our knowledge of common arithmetic." Thus, according to Peacock, arithmetic and
geometry were based upon self-evident, necessary axioms from
which were derived the laws of these two sciences. Symbolical
algebra, on the other hand, was not based on self-evident axioms,
but on defined operations.

However, I think there is an alternative reading possible, which (in modern language) would be that Peacock was interested in pursuing the formal consequences of the axioms for a ring or a field, and distinguishing the nature of these "axioms" from the axioms of Euclidean geometry or Peano arithmetic.  On this reading, Peacock was not being unrigorous (and ironically, he would be an English mathematician who was comfortable with reasoning in the abstract without worrying too much about the connection with the concrete).
To sum up, it seems to me that although there seem to have been some differences in philosophy between English and Continental mathematics, it doesn't seem that it can be neatly summarized in terms of differing attitudes toward "rigor" as we understand that term today.  This is not to say that Hardy did not have any influence on the philosophy of English mathematics, but I suspect it was more nuanced than simply "bringing rigour" to England from the Continent.
A: These examples relate to algebra rather than analysis, but might in any case be useful.
The papers of JJ Sylvester are full of deep insight and entertaining prose, but are also full of unsupported claims and partial proofs. He often writes that he is certain something is true but hasn't the time to demonstrate it. As a specific example in his paper on "Thoughts on Inverse Orthogonal matrices, ..." from 1856 he constructs the character tables of abelian groups and claims (incorrectly) that all Hadamard matrices are equivalent to one such.
As another example, the Cayley-Hamilton theorem was proved by Cayley for 2x2 matrices and by Hamilton for quaternions. At least in the case of Cayley, there was a (correct) statement that the result would generalize. If memory serves, Cayley's proof is a direct computation for 2x2 matrices; something which doesn't generalize particularly well.
Even into the twentieth century, this style of thinking persisted among older mathematicians. Thomas Muir gave a proof of Hadamard's inequality, which considered only minors of order 2 in a 4x4 matrix. Again, he asserted that this would generalise readily, though one of the reasons that he disapproved of Hadamard's original proof was that it relied on induction. So it's unclear what a satisfactory generalization would look like to him; though in fact he had proved the result to his own satisfaction.
A: An example of Hardy's opinion may be found in his excoriating review of a textbook by Edwards on integral calculus:

Mr Edward's book may serve to remind us that the early nineteenth
century is not yet dead.  He directs our attention to "the admirable
and exhaustive works of Legendre, Laplace, Lacroix, Jacobi, Serret,
Bertrand, Todhunter, etc."; from which he has learnt, for example,
that "a limit may be of finite, infinite, or indeterminate value,"
that "the processes of integration are necessarily of a tentative
nature," and that any convergent series may be integrated term by
term.  Two proofs are offered of the last proposition.  In the first
it is stated to be valid "provided the series V itself, and the series
V formed by the integrations of the separate terms, are both
absolutely convergent."  Mr. Edwards italicises the last condition, but we have no idea why it is inserted, for there is no pretence of
making any use of it, nor is its meaning explained.
It is difficult for a reviewer to know what to say about such a book,
except that it cannot be treated as a serious contribution to
analysis.  Twenty years ago it might have been necessary to establish
the point in detail; it would be a waste of time now, when the battle
for accuracy has been won.  There is always the danger, however, that
a student who reads a textbook may suppose that the statements which
it contains are true.  We should therefore state explicitly that the
"general theorems" asserted in this book are often false, and that,
even when they are true, the arguments by which they are supported are
generally invalid.
One ought, of course, to judge a book by a different standard, as a
storehouse of formulae useful for instructional purposes.  Of such
there is an abundance, including a good many which are seldom found in
other books, and often entertaining or even important.  We may mention
Catalan's formula for the surface of an ellipsoid, results concerning
roulettes and glissettes, the theorems of Fagnano, Burstall, Graves,
MacCullagh, Schulz, and others.  The book, in short, may be useful to
a sufficiently sophisticated teacher, provided he is careful not to
allow it to pass into his pupil's hands.

In defence of Edwards, any lack of rigour didn't seem to have been an obstacle to users such as Dirac.
