doing so. Undoubtedly I fear that the Government lend an ear too readily to the Utilitarians and others of that coarse and hard stamp, whose influence can be nothing. but evil. In church matters they have got Whately, and a signal blessing it is that they have him and listen to him; a man so good and so great that no folly or wickedness of the most vile of factions will move him from his own purposes, nor provoke him in disgust to forsake the defence of the Temple.

I cannot say how I am annoyed, both on public and private grounds, by these extravagances, [at Oxford;] on private grounds, from the gross breaches of charity to which they lead good men; and on public, because if these things do produce any effect on the clergy, the evil consequences to the nation are not to be calculated; for what is to become of the Church, if the clergy begin to exhibit an aggravation of the worst superstitions of the Roman Catholics, only stripped of that consistency, which stamps even the errors of the Romish system with something of a character of greatness. It seems presumption in me to press any point upon your consideration, seeing in how many things I have learnt to think from you. But it has always seemed to me that an extreme fondness for our "dear mother the panther," a is a snare, to which the noblest minds are most liable. It seems to me that all, absolutely all, of our religious affections and veneration should go to Christ Himself, and that Protestantism, Catholicism, and every other name, which expresses Christianity and some differentia or proprium besides, is so far an evil, and, when made an object of attachment, leads to superstition and error. Then, descending from religious grounds to human, I think that one's natural and patriotic sympathies can hardly be too strong; but, historically, the Church of England is surely of a motley complexion, with much of good about it, and much of evil, no more a fit subject for enthusiastic admiration than for violent obloquy. I ho

a Dryden's "Hind and Panther."

nour and sympathize entirely with the feelings entertained; I only think that they might all of them select a worthier object; that, whether they be pious and devout, or patriotic, or romantic, or of whatever class soever, there is for each and all of these a true object, on which they may fasten without danger and with infinite benefit; for surely the feeling of entire love and admiration is one, which we cannot safely part with, and there are provided, by God's goodness, worthy and perfect objects of it; but these can never be human institutions, which, being necessarily full of imperfection, require to be viewed with an impartial judgment, not idolized by an uncritical affection. And that common metaphor about our "Mother the Church," is unscriptural and mischievous, because the feelings of entire filial reverence and love which we owe to a parent, we do not owe to our fellow Christians; we owe them brotherly love, meekness, readiness to bear, &c., but not filial reverence, "to them I gave place by subjection, no not for an hour." Now, if I were a Utilitarian, I should not care for what I think a misapplication of the noblest feelings; for then I should not care for the danger to which this misapplication exposes the feelings themselves; but, as it is, I dread to see the evils of the Reformation of the 16th century repeated over again; superstition provoking profaneness, and ignorance and violence on one side leading to equal ignorance and violence on the other, to the equal injury of both truth and love. I should feel greatly obliged to you, if you could tell me any thing that seems to you a flaw in the reasoning of those pages of the Postscript to my pamphlet which speak of Episcopacy, and of what is commonly called the "alliance between Church and State." In the last point I am far more orthodox, according to the standard of our reformers, than either the Toleration men or the High Church men, but those notions are now out of fashion, and what between religious

a

a "I should like," he said, " to see the Toleration Act, and the Act of Uniformity burnt side by side."

bigotry and civil licentiousness, all, I suppose, will go. But I will have compassion on your patience.

It was delightful to hear of you and yours in Devonshire. I wish they would put you on a commission of some sort or other that might take you into Westmoreland some summer or winter. When our house is quite finished, do you not think that the temptation will be great to me to go and live there, and return to my old Laleham way of life on the Rotha, instead of on the Thames? But independent of more worldly considerations, my great experiment here is in much too interesting a situation to abandon lightly. You will be amused when I tell you that I am becoming more and more a convert to the advantages of Latin and Greek verse, and more suspicious of the mere fact system, that would cram with knowledge of particular things, and call it information. My own lessons with the Sixth Form are directed now to the best of my power to the furnishing rules or formulæ for them to work with, e. g. rules to be observed in translation, principles of taste as to the choice of English words, as to the keeping or varying idioms and metaphors, &c., or in history, rules of evidence or general forms for the dissection of campaigns, or the estimating the importance of wars, revolutions, &c. This, together with opening as it were the sources of knowledge, by telling them where they can find such and such things, and giving them a notion of criticism, not to swallow things whole, as the scholars of an earlier period too often did,-is what I am labouring at, much more than at giving information. And the composition is mending decidedly; though speaking to an Etonian, I am well aware that our amended state would be with you a very degenerate one. But we are looking up, certainly, and pains are taking in the lower Forms, of which we shall I think soon see the fruit. . . .

I am getting on with Thucydides myself, and am nearly in the middle of the seventh book; at Allan Bank in the summer I worked on the Roman History, and hope to do

so again in the winter. It is very inspiring to write with such a view before one's eyes, as that from our drawing room at Allan Bank, where the trees of the shrubbery gradually run up into the trees of the cliff, and the mountain side, with its infinite variety of rocky peaks and points on which the cattle expatiate, rises over the tops of the trees. Trevenen Penrose and his wife were with us for nearly a month in Westmoreland, and enjoyed the country as much as we did. He is labouring most admirably and effectually at Coleby. I saw Southey once at Keswick, and had a very friendly interview: he asked me to go over and stay with him for a day or two in the winter, which I think I should like much. His cousin, Herbert Hill, is now the tutor to my own boys. He lives in Rugby, and the boys go to him every day to their great benefit. He is a Fellow of New College, and it rejoices me to talk over Winchester recollections together. Your little Goddaughter is my pupil twice a week in Delectus. . . . Her elder sister is my pupil three times a week in Virgil, and once in the Greek Testament, and promises to do very well in both. I have yet a great many things to say, but I will not keep my letter; how glad I should be if you could ever come down to us for even a single Sunday, but I suppose I must not ask it.

LXXIII. TO JACOB ABBOTT,

(Author of the "Young Christian," &c.)

Rugby, Nov. 1, 1833.

Although I have not the honour of being personally known to you, yet my great admiration of your little book, "The Young Christian," and the circumstance of my being engaged, like yourself, in the work of education, induce me to hope, that you will forgive the liberty I am taking in now addressing you. A third consideration weighs with me, and in this I feel sure that you will sympathize; that it is desirable on every occasion to enlarge the friendly communication of our country with yours. The

publication of a work like yours in America was far more delightful to me than its publication in England could have been. Nothing can be more important to the future welfare of mankind, than that God's people, serving Him in power and in love, and in a sound mind, should deeply influence the national character of the United States, which in many parts of the Union is undoubtedly exposed to influences of a very different description, owing to circumstances apparently beyond the control of human power and wisdom.

I request your acceptance of a volume of Sermons, most of which, as you will see, were addressed to boys or very young men, and which therefore coincide in intention with your own admirable book. And at the same time I venture to send you a little work of mine on a different subject, for no other reason, I believe, than the pleasure of submitting my views upon a great question to the judgment of a mind furnished morally and intellectually as yours must be.

I have been for five years head of this school. [After describing the manner of its foundation and growth.] You may imagine, then, that I am engaged in a great and anxious labour, and must have considerable experience of the difficulty of turning the young mind to know and love God in Christ.

I have understood that Unitarianism is becoming very prevalent in Boston, and I am anxious to know what the complexion of Unitarianism amongst you is. I mean whether it is Arian or Socinian, and whether its disciples are for the most part men of hard minds and indifferent to religion, or whether they are zealous in the service of Christ, according to their own notions of His claims upon their gratitude and love. It has been long my firm belief that a great proportion of Unitarianism might be cured by a wiser and more charitable treatment on the part of their

a His opinion of the Corner-stone is given in a note to the second Appendix of his third volume of Sermons, p. 440.