to their dying day, well aware of their nature, and not sanctioning' them by their will, but unable to shake them off, and enduring them as a real thorn in the flesh, as they would endure the far lighter trials of sickness and outward affliction. But they should be kept, I think, to ourselves, and not talked of even to our nearest friends, when we once understand their true nature. Talking about them gives them a sort of reality, which otherwise they would not have, just like talking of our dreams. We should act, and speak, and try to feel as if they had no existence, and then in most cases they do cease to exist after a time; when they do not, they are harmless to our spiritual nature, although I fully believe they are the most grievous affliction with which human nature is visited.

"Of course what I have here said relates only to such questions as cannot possibly be so answered as to produce even entire intellectual satisfaction, much less moral advantage. I hold that atheism and pure scepticism are both systems of absurdity, which involves the condemnation of hypotheses leading to either of them as conclusions. For atheism separates truth from goodness, and scepticism destroys truth altogether, both of which are monstrosities, from which we should revolt as from a real madness. With my earnest hopes and prayers that you may be relieved from what I know to be the greatest of earthly trials, but with a no less earnest advice, that, if it does continue, you will treat it as a trial, and only cling the closer, as it were, to that perfect Saviour, in the entire love and truth of whose nature all doubt seems to melt away, and who, if kept steadily before our minds, is, I believe, most literally our Bread of Life, giving strength and peace to our weakness and distractions."

This Midsummer (1835) the semi-annual visit to Westmoreland was shorter than usual. Domestic arrangements required an earlier return to Rugby, and so the doctor was for once placed in the novel position of keeping a portion of his holidays in Warwickshire-a thing which in itself, in spite of the beauty he was leaving at Fox How, he could not really regret. He looked forward with pleasurable anticipa-. tions to seeing more than the backs of his books during the leisure fortnight, and to the long free mornings when he could employ himself exactly as he chose, without let or hindrance. He found it essential that he should not give up his own reading, as he affirmed that whatever was gained personally, invariably turned to account for the school in

some way or other. He was afraid, though one would think with little reason, that he was growing lazy, because, when the day's work was done, he found himself averse to settling to any regular employment, preferring either to amuse himself with reading to his children, or with any light book that might be at hand. Few judge themselves with the uncompromising vigour with which he surveyed his own sayings and doings, and refrainings; and certainly very few make larger allowance for the faults and shortcomings of others; thus reversing somewhat the common order of criticism and introspection; viewing his neighbour's haltings and stumblings through the small end of the telescope, and his own, through that which magnifies to the fullest extent.

And so the quiet fortnight at Rugby was duly employed and enjoyed; and he tells us how he and Mrs. Arnold used to sit out in the garden under the enormous elms of the school-field, seeing as they sat "the line of battlemented roofs, and the pinnacles and cross of the chapel cutting the unclouded sky. Moreover, he confessed to "divers happy little cricket matches" with his young sons, on the very cricket ground of the "eleven!" where, in the half-year, no profane person dared to tread. Then came the birth of a little boy, the last addition to the Arnold nursery, a fine little fellow according to his father's account, and answering to the name of Walter.

During the vacation he wrote to Mr. Justice Coleridge the following letter:

"I thank you most heartily for BOTH your affectionate letters. When I suspect you of unkindness, or feel offended with anything 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 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 anything 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."

In 1835 the third and last volume of Thucydides was published.

CHAPTER X.

THE HAMPDEN CONTROVERSY.

IN September, 1835, a Fellowship in the Senate of the new London University was offered to Dr. Arnold by Mr. Spring Rice, then Chancellor of the Exchequer; and he accepted it, in the hope of being useful to the institution, and of infusing into its proceedings an influence which, as he expressed it, should be Christian, but not sectarian. He did not at first strongly insist on a Scriptural examination; because it was alleged that, from the amalgamation of differing bodies of Christians within the University, such an examination would be altogether impracticable. But when he came to consider the question more fully, it seemed to him that there existed no insuperable obstacles against so desirable a plan. Archbishop Whateley assured him that a scriptural examination had been proved practicable in Ireland; and a leading Unitarian whom he addressed on the subject fully concurred in his opinion; so that, "when I found," he says, "that there was a very great necessity for avowing the Christian principle strongly, because unbelief was evidently making a cat's-paw of dissent, I gave notice of my intention of recommending the introduction of the Scriptures, as a part of the classical examinations for every degree."

The majority of the Senate were either hostile or indifferent to his suggestions; but he pressed them with all his characteristic earnestness and ardour; and when told that, though the measure was in itself right, the times would not bear it, he replied, "I do not understand how the times can help bearing what an honest man has the resolution to do. They may hinder his views from gaining full success, but they cannot destroy the moral force of his protest against them, and at any rate they cannot make him do their work without his own co-operation."

In November he wrote to Mr. Justice Coleridge thus:

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I have accepted the office of one of the Examiners in Arts,--not without much hesitation and many doubts of the success of the plan, but desirous, if possible, to exercise some influence on a measure which seems to me full of very important consequences for good or for evil. Before I knew anything about this, I had written a pamphlet on the admission of Dissenters into the Universities, not meaning to publish it directly, if at all; but wishing to embody my view of the whole question, in which, of course, I take the strongest interest. Now if I act with this new Board, I am more disposed to publish my own views for my own justification, lest any man should think me an advocate for the plan of National Education without Christianity; which I utterly abhor. But I am well nigh driven beside myself, when I think that to this monstrosity we are likely to come; because the zealots of different sects (including in this term the Establishment) will have no Christianity without Sectarianism.”

He wished to prevent the establishment of more sectarian educational institutions, which would be the case if Dissenters had their regular colleges; but then he argued that Dissenters must or ought to have degrees, and they were shut out from Oxford and Cambridge. Everything seemed to him tending to sectarianism, the Establishment and Dissent being alike identified with parties; and it was his own firm conviction that every difference of opinion amongst Christians was either unessential or remediable by time and mutual fairness," if tradition were utterly cast away, and the Scriptures solely interpreted by themselves. On this subject, writing to Dr. Hawkins, he says:

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"I think that in your sermon on Unauthoritative Tradition you have unawares served the cause of error and schism; for I should just reverse that argument, and, instead of saying that we should bring in tradition to teach certain doctrines, which Scripture appears to recognise, but does not clearly develope, I should say that, because Scripture does not clearly develope them, therefore they ought not to be taught as essential, nor with any greater degree of precision than is to be found in Scripture and then I believe that we should have Christian truth exactly in its own proper proportions ;--what is plain, and what is essential being in effect

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