CIX. TO MR. JUSTICE COLERIDGE.

Rugby, July 1, 1835.

I thank you most heartily for both your affectionate letters. When I suspect you of unkindness, or feel offended with any thing that you say or write to me, I must have cast off my nature indeed very sadly. Be assured that there was nothing in your first letter which you could wish unwritten, nothing that was not written in the true spirit of friendship. I was vexed only thus far, that I could not explain many points to you, which I think would have altered your judgment as to the facts of the case.

My dear friend, I know and feel the many great faults of my life and practice; and grieve more than I can say not to have more intercourse with those friends who used to reprove me, I think, to my great benefit-I am sure without ever giving me offence. But I cannot allow that those opinions, which I earnestly believe, after many years' thought and study, to be entirely according to Christ's mind, and most tending to His glory, and the good of His Church, shall be summarily called heretical; and it is something of a trial to be taxed with perverting my boys' religious principles, when I am labouring, though most imperfectly, to lead them to Christ in true and devoted faith; and when I hold all the scholarship that ever man had, to be infinitely worthless in comparison with even a very humble degree of spiritual advancement. And I think that I have seen my work in some instances blessed;—not, I trust, to make me proud of it, or think that I have any thing to be satisfied with,—yet so far as to make it very painful to be looked upon as an enemy by those whose Master I would serve as heartily, and whom, if I dare say it, I love with as sincere an affection as they do.

God bless you, and thank you for all your kindness to me always.

CX. TO C. J. VAUGHAN, ESQ.

Rugby, September 9, 1835.

It is very hard to know what to say of Hatch as to his bodily health, because, though appearances are unfavourable, Dr. Jephson still speaks confidently of his recovery; but it is not hard to know what to say of his mind, which, I believe, is quite what we could wish it to be. He always seemed to me a most guileless person when in health,-guileless and living in the fear of God, -in such circumstances sickness does but feed and purify the flame, which was before burning strong and brightly. He will be delighted to hear from you, and would be interested by any Cambridge news that you could send him, for I think he must find himself often in want of amusement, and of something to vary the day. I am glad that you have made acquaintance with some of the good poor. I quite agree with you that it is most instructive to visit them, and I think that you are right in what you say of their more lively faith. We hold to earth and earthly things by so many more links of thought, if not of affection, that it is far harder to keep our view of heaven clear and strong; when this life is so busy, and therefore so full of reality to us, another life seems by comparison unreal. This is our condition, and its peculiar temptations; but we must endure it, and strive to overcome them, for I think we may not try to flee from it.

I have begun the Phædo of Plato with the Sixth, which will be a great delight to me. There is an actual pleasure in contemplating so perfect a management of so perfect an instrument as is exhibited in Plato's language, even if the matter were as worthless as the words of Italian music; whereas the sense is only less admirable in many places than the language. I am still in distress for a Latin book, and wish that there were a cheap edition of Bacon's Instauratio Magna. I would use it, and make it useful in point of Latinity, by setting the fellows to

VOL. I.

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correct the style where it is cumbrous or incorrect. As to Livy, the use of reading him is almost like that of the drunken Helot. It shows what history should not be in a very striking manner; and, though the value to us of much of ancient literature is greatly out of proportion to its intrinsic merit, yet the books of Livy, which we have, relate to a time so uninteresting, that it is hard even to extract a value from them by the most complete distillation; so many gallons of vapid water scarcely hold in combination a particle of spirit.

CXI. TO CHEVALIER BUNSEN.

Rugby, September 21, 1835.

I have been and am working at two main things, the Roman History and the nature and interpretation of Prophecy. For the first I have been working at Hannibal's passage of the Alps. How bad a geographer is Polybius, and how strange that he should be thought a good one! Compare him with any man who is really a geographer, with Herodotus, with Napoleon,-whose sketches of Italy, Egypt, and Syria, in his memoirs, are to me unrivalled,—or with Niebuhr, and how striking is the difference. The dulness of Polybius' fancy made it impossible for him to conceive or paint scenery clearly, and how can a man be a geographer without lively images of the formation and features of the country which he describes? How different are the several Alpine valleys, and how would a few simple touches of the scenery which he seems actually to have visited, yet could neither understand nor feel it, have decided for ever the question of the route! Now the account suits no valley well, and therefore it may be applied to many; but I believe the real line was by the Little St. Bernard, although I cannot trace those particular spots, which De Luc and Cramer fancy they could recognise. I thought so on the spot, (i. e. that the spots could not be traced,) when I crossed the Little

St. Bernard, in 1825, with Polybius in my hand, and I think so still. How much we want a physical history of countries, tracing the changes which they have undergone either by such violent revolutions as volcanic phenomena, or by the slower but not less complete change produced by ordinary causes; such as alterations of climate occasioned by inclosing and draining; alteration in the course of rivers, and in the level of their beds; alteration in the animal and vegetable productions of the soil, and in the supply of metals and minerals; noticing also the advance or retreat of the sea, and the origin and successive increase in the number and variation in the line of roads, together with the changes in the extent and character of the woodlands. How much might be done by our Society at Rome if some of its attention were directed to these points: for instance, drainage and an alteration in the course of the waters have produced great changes in Tuscany; and there is also the interesting question as to the spread of malaria in the Maremme. I read with the greatest

interest all that you say about Hebrew and the Old Testament, and your researches into the chronology and composition of the books of the New. It is strange to see how much of ancient history consists apparently of patches put together from various quarters without any redaction. Is not this largely the case in the books of Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles? For instance, are not chapters xxiv. and xxvi. of 1 Samuel, merely different versions of the same event, just as we have two accounts of the creation in the early chapters of Genesis? And must not chapters xvi. and xvii. of the same book be also from different sources, the account of David in the one being quite inconsistent with that in the other? again, in 2 Chronicles xi. 20, and xiii. 2, there is a decided difference in the parentage of Abijah's mother, which is curious on any supposition. Do you agree with Schleiermacher in denying Paul to be the author of the Epistles to Timothy and Titus? I own it seems to me

So,

that they are as certainly Paul's as the Epistle to the Romans; nor can I understand the reason for any doubt about the matter. And yet Schleiermacher could not write any thing, I should suppose, without some good reasons for it a.

to me.

CXII. TO J. P. GELL, ESQ.

Rugby, September 30, 1835. My situation here, if it has its anxieties, has also many great pleasures, amongst the highest of which are such letters as that which you have had the kindness to write I value it indeed very greatly, and sincerely thank you for it. I had been often told that I should know you much more after you had left Rugby, than I had ever done before, and your letter encourages me to hope that it will be so. You will not think that it is a mere form of civil words, when I say we shall be very glad to see you here, if you can take us in your way to Cambridge, or in Westmoreland in the winter, if you do not start at the thought of a Christmas among the mountains. But I can assure you that you will find them most beautiful in their winter dress, and the valleys very humanized. I have just seen, but not read, the second number of the Rugby Magazine. I have an unmixed pleasure in its going on,-perhaps, just under actual circumstances, more than at some former time, because I think it is more wanted. We shall soon lose Lake and Simpkinson and the others, who go up this year to the University. There is always a melancholy feeling in seeing the last sheaf carried of a good harvest; for whe knows what may be the crop of the next year? But this, happily for us, is, both in the natural and in the moral harvest, in the hands of Him who can make disappointment and scarcity do His work, no less than success and plenty.

a For his full view on this subject, see Serm. vol. iv. p. 481-491.