otherwise it leads to scepticism, a state which I dread and abhor every day more and more, both in itself and as being so often the gate of idolatry.

My object in saying all this is mainly to warn you against the secret influence of the air in which you are living for so large a portion of the year. Like all climates it has its noxious elements, and these affect the constitution surely but unconsciously, if it be continually exposed to their influence, unless a man, knowing that he is living in an aguish district, looks to his diet and habits accordingly; and, as poor Davison did when he lived in the fens, gets his supply of water from a distance.

Perhaps my late journey makes me more alive to the mischievous effects of any one local influence. One cannot help feeling how very narrow the view of any one place must be, when there are so many other views in the world, none scarcely without some element of truth, or some facility for discerning it which another has not.

For my own especial objects, my journey answered excellently. I feel that I have no need of going to Italy again; that my recollection of Rome is completely refreshed, and that having seen Naples and the interior of the country between Naples and Terni, I have nothing more to desire, for it would be idle to expect to visit every single spot in Italy which might in itself be interesting. The beauty of the country between Antrodoco and Terni surpassed, I think, anything that I saw, except it be La Cava, and the country dividing the bay of Naples from that of Salerno. But when we returned to Fox How, I thought that no scene on this earth could ever be to me so beautiful. I mean that so great was its actual natural beauty, that no possible excess of beauty in any other scene could balance the deep charm of home which in Fox How breathes through everything. But the actual and real beauty of Fox How is, in my judgment, worthy to be put in comparison with anything as a place for human dwelling. I have run on at greater length than I intended.

CCXLVII. *TO REV. H. BALSTON.

(Who was threatened with consumption.)

Rugby, August 17, 1840.

I grieved not to see you on our way to France, as Rugby, I fear, must be forbidden ground to you at present; this cold air would ill suit a delicate chest. I have great confidence in a

M M

southern climate, if only it be taken in time, which I should trust was the case in the present instance. But certainly my summer's experience of Italy has not impressed me with a favourable opinion of the climate there; for the changes from heat to cold, and severe cold, were very trying; and after sunset, or at any considerable elevation of ground, I found the cold quite piercing on several occasions. And in the Alps it was really miserable, and I never worked at lighting a fire with such hearty good will as I did at Airolo in Italy in this present year. We enjoyed greatly our four days at Fox How, and are now returned in good bodily condition, and I trust disposed in mind also, to engage in the great work which is here offered,-a work, the importance of which can hardly, I think, be overrated.

I thank you most truly for the kind expressions with which your note concludes. It would make me most happy if I could feel that I duly availed myself of my opportunities here to teach and impress the one thing needful. It was a wise injunction to Timothy, "to be instant in season and out of season," because we so often fancy that a word would be out of season when it would in fact be seasonable. And I believe I often say too little from a dread of saying too much. Here, as in secular knowledge, he is the best teacher of others who is best taught himself; that which we know and love we cannot but communicate; that which we know and do not love we soon, I think, cease to know.

CCXLVIII. TO THE CHEVALIER BUNSEN.

Rugby, September 4, 1840.

Both public and private matters furnish me with more points on which I should like to talk to you than it is possible to enter on in a letter. May God avert the calamity of a general war, which would be, I think, an unmixed evil from which no power could gain anything, except it were Russia. I cannot help looking to Russia as God's appointed instrument for such revolutions in the races, institutions, and dominions of Europe as He may yet think fit to bring about. But, as far as England and France are concerned, war could only be disastrous to both parties.

My private prospects have acquired a fixedness which they never before have had so completely, because I have now reason to know that I should never be appointed to one of those new Professorships in Oxford, which above all other things would have been acceptable

to me.

It vexes me to be thus shut out from the very place where I fancy that I could do most good: but these things are fixed by One who knows best where and how He would have us to serve Him, and it seems to tell me plainly that my appointed work is here. I know that I have yearnings after opportunities for writing-not so much on account of the History as for other matters far nearer and dearer; above all, that great question of the Church. But still the work here ought to satisfy all my desires; and, if I ever live to retire to Fox How with undecayed faculties, the mountains and streams which I so love, may well inspire me with a sort of swan-like strain, even in old age. Meantime, the school is fuller than ever, and all seems encouraging. I shall have another new master to appoint at Christmas, and shall perhaps be able to find one amongst my own old pupils.

. . I have to thank you for Göttling's book on the Roman Constitution, and for Dorner's work on the Doctrine as to the Person of Christ. But I seem to be able to read less than ever, and all books alike stand on my shelves, as it were mocking me; for I cannot make use of them though I have them.

Henry will come down here next month, to have his examination from me previously to going into the schools. He will stay here, I hope, some time; for it will do him good, I think, to be out of Oxford as much as he can just before his examination, when he will need all possible refreshment and repose. Tell me something of your absent sons, of Ernest and Charles, and George, of whose progress I should much like to hear. . dearest friend.

God bless you, my

CCXLIX. TO SIR THOMAS PASLEY, BART.

Rugby, October 19, 1840.

I never rejoiced so much as I do now that I see no daily newspaper. I think that the interest of this present crisis would soon make me quite ill, if I did not keep my eyes away from it. The spirit displayed by the French press, and by, I fear, a large portion of the people, is very painful to all those who, like me, have been trying resolutely to look on France with regard and with hope: and it will awaken, I doubt not, that vulgar Antigallican feeling in England which did so much mischief morally to us. Besides, I dread a war on every conceivable ground, both politically and

morally. I do not see how any power but Russia can gain by it; and Russia's gain seems to me to be the world's loss. Besides, I have no faith in coalitions; the success of 1814 and 1815 was a rare exception, owing to special causes, none of which are in action now; se that I have great fears of France being victorious; for, with the greatest respect for our army and navy, I have none whatever for our war ministers, whether Whig or Tory,-blundering in that departmen having marked all our wars, with scarcely a single year's exception. And then the money and the debt, and the mortgaging our land and industry still deeper; and thus inevitably feeding the deadly ulcer of Chartism, which now, for the moment, is skinned ever, and, being out of sight, is with most of us, according to the asas mármity of human nature, out of mind. Certainly the command to "put not our trast in princes, nor in the son of man, for there is no help in them." was never less difficult to fulfil than now; for be must be a desperate idolater who can find among our statesmen any one on whom he can repose any excessive confidence.

One thing has delighted me, namely, Bishop Stanley's speech on the presentation of the petition last session for the revision of the Litargy, đe., which he has now published with notes. He has done the thing exceedingly well, and has closed himself completely, I think, against all attack. But I do not imagine that the question isself will make any progress... . I am reading and abstracting Cyprian's Letters-the oldest really historical monument of the condition of the Christian Church after the Apostolical Epistles. They are full of information, as all real letters written by men in public stations must be; and are far better worth reading than any of Cyprian's other works, which are indeed of little value. I am revising my Thucydides for the second edition, and reserving the third volume of Rome for Fox How; so that I do not do much at present beyond the business of the school: we are sadly too full in point of numbers, and I have got thirty-six in my own form. I have read Mr. Turubull's book on Austria, which I like much, and it well agrees with my tenderness for the Austrian government and people.

CCL TO THE REV. DR. HAWKINS.

Rugby, September 14, 1840.

I have received your Bampton Lectures, for which I

thank you much; and I have read seven out of the eight Sermons

carefully, and shall soon finish the volume.

The volume interested

me greatly for the subject's sake, as well as for your own. With much I entirely agree,-indeed I quite agree as to your main positions; but I have always supposed it to be a mere enemy's caricature of our Protestant doctrine, when any are supposed to maintain that it is the duty of each individual to make out his faith de novo, from the Scriptures alone, without regard to any other authority living or dead. I read with particular interest what you say about Episcopacy, because I did not know exactly what you thought on the subject: there I am sorry to find that we differ most widely. I cannot understand from your book, and I never can make out from anybody, except the strong Newmanites, what the essence of Episcopacy is supposed to be. The Newmanites say that certain divine powers of administering the Sacraments effectually can only be communicated by a regular succession from those who, as they supposed, had them at first. W. Law holds this ground; there must be a succession in order to keep up the mysterious gift bestowed on the priesthood, which gift makes Baptism wash away sin, and converts the elements in the Lord's Supper into effectual means of grace. This is intelligible and consistent, though I believe it to be in the highest degree false and Antichristian. Is Government the essence of Episcopacy, which was meant to be perpetual in the Church? Is it the monarchical element of government?—and if so, is it the monarchical element, pure, or limited? Conceive what a difference between an absolute monarchy, and one limited like ours; and still more, like the French monarchy, under the constitution of 1789. I cannot in the least tell, therefore, what you suppose to be the real thing intended to be kept in the Church, as I suppose that you do not like the Newmanite view. And all the moderate High Churchmen appear to me to labour under the same defect,—that they do not seem to perceive clearly what is the essence of Episcopacy; or, if they do perceive it, they do not express themselves clearly.

Another point incidentally introduced, appeared to me also to be not stated quite plainly. You complain of those persons who judge of a Revelation, not by its evidence, but by its substance. It has always seemed to me that its substance is a most essential part of its evidence; and that miracles wrought in favour of what was foolish or wicked, would only prove Manicheism. We are so perfectly ignorant of the unseen world, that the character of any supernatural power can be only judged of by the moral character of the