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LETTERS 
 
 OF 
 
 CONNOP THIRLWALL 
 
Letters to a Friend 
 
 BY 
 
 CONNOP THIRLWALIi 
 
 LATE LORD BISHOP OF ST. DAVID'S 
 
 EDITED BY THE VERY REV. 
 
 ARTHUR PENRHYN STANLEY, D.D. 
 
 DEAN OF WESTMINSTER 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS 
 
 1883 
 
UmvERSiTy Press: 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. 
 
TO THE BELOVED MEMORY 
 
 OF A WIDELY HONORED, DEEPLY LAMENTED FATHER 
 
 AND TO A MOST DEAR SISTER 
 
 THESE LETTERS 
 
 WRITTEN BY THEIR FRIEND AS MUCH FOR THEIR INTEREST 
 AS FOR HERS TO WHOM THEY WERE ADDRESSED 
 
 ARE DEDICATED 
 
 IN THE BONDS OF THAT AFFECTION WHICH UNITED 
 AND UNITES THEM ALL 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The following Letters are selected from a correspondence 
 of ten years -with a young friend, one of a Welsh family 
 in whicli Bishop Thirlwall took great interest. It was 
 felt that they supply a side of the Bishop's character 
 which was not suflBciently appreciated in his lifetime, 
 and which the correspondence with his own contem- 
 poraries does not adequately represent. They disclose 
 the kindly, genial heart which lay beneath that massive 
 intellect ; they show the tender regard for the sufferings 
 of those with whom he was brought into contact by the 
 circumstances of ordinary life ; they exhibit the playful 
 affection for the tame creatures which formed almost 
 part of his household ; they are full of the keen appre- 
 ciation which he felt for all the varying beauty of the 
 natural seasons ; they show the immense range of his 
 acquaintance with the lighter as well as the graver 
 forms of literature; they indicate the enthusiastic de- 
 light which he, no less than his correspondent, took 
 in the language and traditions of the Welsh diocese 
 and country which he had adopted as his own ; they 
 reveal also some of his innermost thoughts and feelings 
 on the great moral and religious questions of all time, 
 concerning which in his published writings we have 
 only the external and judicial expression. 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 I have been requested, by those to whom the publi- 
 lication of the two volumes of the Bishop's Correspond- 
 ence has been intrusted, to add, by way of preface, 
 the remarks made concerning his character and career 
 on the occasion of his interment in Westminster Abbey. 
 The discourse from which they are taken was an en- 
 deavor to set forth the religious use of wisdom, based 
 on the words from the Book of Job, ' Where shall 
 wisdom be found, and where is the place of under- 
 standing ? ' 
 
 A few sentences of the sermon have been omitted, 
 and a few added. 
 
 It will be understood that the sermon dealt only 
 with the more general aspects of his career. My per- 
 sonal acquaintance with him was too late and too slight 
 to justify any detailed criticism or eulogy. 
 
 A. P. S. 
 
 Let me freely speak to you of this patriarch of our 
 national Church in his two capacities of a universal 
 scholar and of a wise ecclesiastical statesman. 
 
 Of that thirst for knowledge in all its parts of which 
 the Bible speaks, of the mastery of all ancient and 
 modern learning, few, if any, in his time have been 
 more wonderful examples than he who from his eleventh 
 till his threescore and eighteenth year was always gath- 
 ering in fresh stores of understanding. Of him, as 
 of Solomon, it might be said, ' Thy soul covered the 
 whole earth.' There was hardly a civilized language 
 which he had not explored both in its structure and its 
 literature. JHe was the chief of that illustrious group 
 of English scholars who first revealed to this country 
 
PREFACE. ix 
 
 the treasures of 'German research, and the insight which 
 that research had opened into the mysterious origin of 
 the races, institutions, and religions of mankind. Many 
 are now living who never can forget the moment when, 
 in the translation of ' Niebuhr's Roman History,' they 
 for the first time felt that thej' had caught a glimpse 
 into the dark corners of the ancient times which pre- 
 ceded the dawn of history. There are many who 
 gathered their early knowledge of the Grecian world 
 from the first history which brought all the stores of 
 modern learning to bear on that glorious country and 
 its glorious people, and which still, after all that has 
 been done, remains the only history filled with the con- 
 tinuous sense of the unity of its marvellous destinies in 
 their decline as well as in their rise. Many there are 
 who have never lost the deep impression left by the 
 attempt to trace the refined and solemn irony of ancient 
 tragedy and human fate ; i many also who, in his mas- 
 terly analysis of the composition of the Gospel narra- 
 tives, first gained an insight at once alike into the 
 complicated structure and the profound substance of the 
 sacred volume.^ Such a man is a boon to a whole 
 generation, both by the example of his industry and 
 by the light of his teaching. Even to the very last, 
 even in old age, in blindness, in solitude, he continued 
 with indomitable energy the task of acquiring new 
 knowledge, of adding another and another finish to the 
 never-ending education of his capacious mind ; becom- 
 ing, as he said when at the age of seventy-six he 
 released himself from the cares of his diocese, becoming 
 a boy once again, but a boy still at school, still growing 
 
 1 Essay on ' The Irony of Sophocles.' See Eemaiiis, p. 6. 
 
 2 See Introduction to Schleiermacher's Essay on St. Luke. 
 
 a* 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 in wisdom and understanding. Hear it, laggards and 
 sluggards of our laxer days; hear it, you who spend 
 your leisure in the things and the books that perish 
 with the using ; hear and profit by the remembrance 
 that there has been one amongst us to whom the word 
 of knowledge came in all its f»rce and beauty, to whom 
 idleness, ignorance, and indifEerence were an intolerable 
 burden, to whom the acquisition of a new language or 
 a new literature was as th« annexation of a new domin- 
 ion, or the invention of a new enjoyment. Well may 
 he rest amongst the scholars of England beneath the 
 monument of Isaac Casaubon, whom we have of late 
 learned to know again^ as if be had lived in our days, 
 and in the grave of his own famous schoolfellow,^ of 
 whose labors in the same field of Grecian history he 
 once said, with a rare union of simple modesty and 
 noble disinterestedness, that to himself had been given 
 the rare privilege of seeing the work which had been 
 the dream of his own life superseded and accomplished 
 by a like work on a larger scale, and in more finished 
 proportions, by the beloved and faithful friend of his 
 early youth. 
 
 It may be disappointing to some that this prodigious 
 acquisition of knowledge was not accompanied by a 
 corresponding productiveness. With the exception of 
 the few indications we have given, his learning perished 
 with him. The light which he contributed to theology 
 was far less brilliant and permanent than that which 
 had come from Arnold or from Milman, or from some 
 of the great German theologians whom he so highly 
 honored. Still there was a form of wisdom which 
 
 1 Memoir of Isaac Casaubon, by Mark PattisOn. 
 
 2 George Grote, historian of Greece. 
 
PEEFACE. xi 
 
 does not lie buried with him in that narrow vault. 
 There is an old English word which has now somewhat 
 changed its meaning, but which in former times was 
 applied to one of our greatest divines, Richard Hooker 
 — the word 'judicious.' We now use it in the re- 
 stricted sense of 'cautious' or 'sagacious.' But in its 
 proper meaning it signified exactly that quality of 
 judgment, discretion, discrimination, which is the chief 
 characteristic of the biblical virtue of wisdom. Hardly, 
 perhaps, has there been any English theologian, rarely 
 even any professional Judge, to whom this epithet, in 
 this its true sense of judicial, judge-like, was more truly 
 applicable than to the serene and powerful intellect that 
 has just passed away. In that massive countenance, in 
 that measured diction, in that deliberate argument, in 
 those weighty decisions, it seemed as though Themis 
 herself were enshrined to utter her most impressive 
 oracles; as if he. was a living monument on which was 
 inscribed ' Incorrupta fides, nudaque Veritas ; ' ^ as if he 
 had absorbed into his inmost being the evangelical 
 precept, -Judge not according to the appearance, but 
 judge righteous judgment.' It must indeed be allowed 
 that there were times when his voice failed to be raised 
 in emergencies which seemed to demand it — that there 
 were occasions when even in his firm hand the scales of 
 justice trembled from some unexpected bias — when his 
 clear vision was dimmed for a time by a glamour which 
 fascinated him the more because its magical influence 
 was unlike to anything in himself — when his majestic 
 serenity was ruffled by the irritation of some trivial 
 contradiction or small annoyance. But for the larger 
 part of his career the even current of his temper, the 
 1 The expression of the late Archdeacon Moore. 
 
xii PREFACE. 
 
 piercing accuracy of his insight, the calm dignity of his 
 judgment, even when we might differ from its conclu- 
 sions, remained immovable ; and thus, when he rose to 
 the Episcopal office, it ^Imost seemed as if in this re- 
 spect it had been created for him — so naturally did he 
 from it, as from a commanding eminence, take an over- 
 sight of the whole field of ecclesiastical events — so 
 entirely did his addresses to his clergy assume the form 
 of judicial utterances on each of the great controversies 
 which have agitated the Church of England for the last 
 thirty years, and thus become the most faithful as well 
 as impressive record of that eventful time. Such a 
 character insensibly acted as a constant check on ex- 
 travagance, a silent rebuke to partisanship, a valuable 
 witness to ' the entire dominion which prudence has ' 
 (to use the words of Burke) ' over every exercise of 
 power committed to its hands,' ' especially ' (again to 
 use the words of the same great statesman) ' when we 
 have lived to see prudence and conformity to circum- 
 stances wholly set at nought in our late controversies, 
 as if they were the most contemptible and irrational of 
 all things.' To have beheld such a judgment-seat es- 
 tablished amongst us is a warning and a blessing for 
 which we shall often crave in vain now that its oracle 
 is dumb, but which it is for us to reproduce, so far as 
 we can, by the memory of the extent to which we 
 once admired it, and of the strength wherewith it 
 strengthened us. 
 
 And there is yet this further lesson : ' Whei'e was 
 it that this wisdom was found, or where was the place 
 of this wonderful understanding ? ' It was on a throne 
 where experience has often told us that it is missing — 
 in a place where we are often justly warned not to look 
 
PREFACE. xiii 
 
 for it. It was in that sacred calling which, by the very 
 reason of its sacredness, is exposed more than the other 
 great professions of our country to the fits of sudden 
 fanaticism, to the hurricanes of well-intentioned panics, 
 to the convulsions of blind party spirit. It was on the 
 heights of that Episcopal order which, by the very 
 reason of its eminence, often becomes the prey of timid 
 counsels, unequal measures, and narrow thoughts, but 
 which, when worthily occupied and worthily used, gives 
 room and scope as no other office, either in Church or 
 State, to the exercise of that width of view and im- 
 partiality of judgment of which ' the wisdom ' of the 
 Bible is the divine expression. 
 
 When we sometimes hear it said that in our day there 
 are fewer attractions for the nobler intellects and the more 
 gifted spirits to enter the sacred ministry — when we hear 
 it regretfully said that those who enter often become 
 demoralized in their highest mental aspirations by tak- 
 ing holy orders — let us ask what was the experience 
 suggested by the career which is now closed. He had 
 been destined to another lofty calling — that of the Bar 
 — where, if anywhere, some of his most peculiar gifts 
 might have had the fullest development and gratified 
 the highest ambition. But he found that in the minis- 
 trations of the Church of England there was a field for 
 a yet larger development of his moral and intellectual 
 stature — for the exercise of a yet nobler aspiration. If 
 from any cause since that time the calling of an English 
 clergyman has become less congenial to such characters 
 — if its sphere has become more contracted — if the 
 difficulties placed in the way of embarking upon it have 
 increased, or the inducements to enter upon it have 
 diminished — it is well for all those who are concerned 
 
xiv PKEFACB. 
 
 to look to it, for few graver evils can befall a Church, 
 no more formidable prospect threaten its dignity and 
 its usefulness. And as we so regard the question, let 
 us think once and again what were the advantages 
 which he brought to the ministry and hierarchy of the 
 English Church, and what were the advantages which 
 it offered to him. He brought to it the assurance that 
 in the ranks of its clergy there was no reason why the 
 love of truth and of learning should not abound, why 
 critical inquiry should not pursue its onward course, why 
 the intellectual and spiritual elements of Christianity 
 should not constantly prevail over those which are ma- 
 terial and formal. There are those who remember that 
 when he was raised by a courageous statesman ^ to a seat 
 in the English Episcopate, while some trembled with 
 alarm at the entrance of this bold intruder, as he was 
 deemed, others confidently predicted that this intrusion, 
 if so it were, would give to the Church of England a 
 
 1 See Torrens's Life of Lord Melbourne. It is interesting to observe 
 in this account that there was at least one eminent clergyman who did 
 not share the panic occasioned hy Bishop Thirlwall's nomination. The 
 Primate had, assured Lord Melbourne that he saw no cause of objection 
 in the preface to the translation of Schleiermacher's Essay. That Arch- 
 bishop Howley should not have been startled by the boldness of that 
 keen criticism is in keeping with the like freedom of thought which 
 induced him to receive Arnold ftt ordination, in spite of the hesitation 
 to admit not only the Pauline authorship, but the canonicity of the 
 Epistle to the Hebrews, and which caused him to acquiesce without 
 remonstrance in Lord John Eussell's nomination of Dr. Hampden to 
 the See of Hereford. It is true that this sagacious discernment of the 
 lawfulness of such free inquiry in religious matters was combined with 
 a caution which might easily be mistaken for timidity ; and the fear of 
 giving offence to the clergy sometimes overbore even his characteristic 
 courtesy. But it is worth recalling these traits because they have been 
 often overlooked, and because they imply a largeness of mind which, if 
 it had but found fuller scope in action, whether in his own or later times, 
 might have saved the Church from many dangers and inconsistencies. 
 
PREFACE. XV 
 
 new lease of enduring life. Have not the prophets of 
 hope been justified in their anticipation of good ten 
 times more than the prophets of fear in their anticipa- 
 tions of evil? Are there any now from one end of the 
 Church to the other who are not proud of the man who 
 has thus adorned their calling, and ennobled the career 
 of the humblest curate of the most secluded hamlet? 
 Are there any who would not feel that English Chris- 
 tianity and English literature would have been the 
 poorer if Connop Thirlwall had become a mere successful 
 lawyer, or remained a mere private scholar, instead of 
 giving by his presence in the Episcopate an example and 
 a guarantee that liberal sentiment, even-handed justice, 
 free research, had their proper sphere in the high places 
 of the English Church? He stood not alone in that 
 former generation of noble students in those days which 
 ' they that are younger now have in their derision.' 
 Others there were, perhaps, in their own way, as gifted 
 as he, and who certainly left a deeper and wider 
 impress on the writings and the actions of our time, 
 and who were less restrained in their utterances by 
 caution or reticence. But he of all that memorable band 
 who found their natural calling in the ministry of the 
 English Church was the only one, at least in England, 
 that mounted to its highest ranks, and visibly swayed 
 its counsels. That long and honored existence bids 
 us not to despair of our Church or of our Faith ; but 
 it also warns us to keep tliem at least on the same level 
 that made his presence amongst us possible. It may be 
 that, whatever betides^ there will always be an induce- 
 ment for the simple enthusiast, the stirring adminis- 
 trator, the eager partisan, the zealous dogmatist, to take 
 a place in the ranks of the evangelists or pastors of the 
 
xvi PREFACE. 
 
 Church. But if there are to be amongst the clergy 
 pillars of the House of Wisdom like to him that is gone, 
 there must be something more than this. It is not too 
 much to say that one main attraction, which drew him 
 and like characters to the sacred ministry of our Church, 
 was its national character, and therefore comprehensive, 
 varied, and onward destiny. To nothing short of this, to 
 no meaner service, beneath the dogmatic or ceremonial 
 yoke of no lesser communion, would the giants of those 
 days have bowed their heads to enter. Other advan- 
 tages, moral or material, may be furnished by the separ 
 rated, disintegrated, or exclusively ecclesiastical sects or 
 churches of our own or other countries. Many are the 
 excellent gifts possessed by our Nonconformist brethren 
 which we lack, and perhaps shall always lack. But 
 they themselves would confess with us that such as he 
 of whom we speak would have found, and could have 
 found, no abiding-place in their ranks. And only, or 
 almost only, in a national Church, where the permanent 
 voice of the nation, and not only a fraction of it, takes 
 part in the appointment of its highest officers — was 
 such an appointment possible, or at least probable, as 
 that which gave to us the prelate whom we all now alike 
 delight to honor and mourn to lose. 
 
 Such was the public career of him whose mortal 
 remains are to be laid beneath this roof. Some perhaps 
 will lament, with a natural regret, that the prelate who, 
 of all its occupants, has most conspicuously adorned 
 through a long Episcopate the ancient see which reaches 
 back to the earliest beginnings of British Christianity, 
 should not have found his last resting-place in the 
 loneliness and grandeur of his own cathedral of St. 
 David — in the romantic solitude of that secluded sane- 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 XVU 
 
 tuary beside the storm-vexed promontory that overlooks 
 the western sea. But it was also a natural feeling, in 
 which his own clergy and people proudly share, that 
 one whose fame belonged not to a single diocese, but to 
 the whole Church of England and to the whole world 
 of letters, should claim his rightful place amongst the 
 scholars and philosophers of our country. And in these 
 days there is a satisfaction in the thought that at least 
 one great Churchman by general consent found his way 
 into the innermost circle of the sages of our time — that 
 amidst the cynical and critical analysis of our modem 
 philosophy, there was at least one Greek to whose lofty 
 intellect the religion of Jesus Christ was not foolish- 
 ness — and amidst the craving for scholastic distinction 
 and oratorical ceremonial exaggeration which marks our 
 modern theology, at least one reverent believer to whom 
 its reasonable service, its unfathomed depth, its wide- 
 reaching charity, its unadorned simplicity, were not 
 stumbling-blocks, but attractions. 
 
 And this brings me to one concluding remark. I 
 have hitherto spoken only of the mental grandeur of 
 him whom we mourn. It is this chiefly which concerns 
 us on this occasion. It is the vindication of the reli- 
 gious mission of learning and wisdom that I have thus 
 briefly put before you. Yet those who knew the man 
 in his inner life knew well that within that marble 
 intellectj behind that impassive severity, beneath that 
 ponderous eloquence, there was a moral fire which 
 warmed and fused the granite mass through which it 
 breathed. That was no mean sense of duty which con- 
 strained him, when in middle life he entered on the 
 Episcopate, to throw his vast linguistic power into the 
 difficult, though to him grateful task of learning, as no 
 
xviii PREFACE. 
 
 English bishop since the Conquest had ever learnt, the 
 language of his Cambrian diocese. That was no incon- 
 siderable eilort of moral courage and far-sighted justice 
 which led him on one occasion in his earlier years to 
 vindicate, amidst obloquy and opposition,^ the solution 
 of a great academical difficulty which, since that time, 
 all have accepted ; or, on another occasion in his later 
 years, to vindicate the endeavor to remedy a great eccle- 
 siastical grievance by a solution^ which by the factious 
 and fanatical rivalries of modern politics had been cast 
 aside, but which all eminent statesmen of a former 
 generation had combined in urging. That was no cold 
 or callous heart which found its chief earthly comfort 
 in the faithful affection of those who grew up around 
 him as his own children and grandchildren, receiving 
 instruction day by day from the boundless stores of his 
 knowledge, and attracted by his paternal care. That 
 was no proud or hard spirit which lived a life of such 
 childlike simplicity, with the innocent enjoyment of his 
 books or of his dumb creatures, or in steady obedience 
 to the frequent call of often irksome duty, or in humbly 
 waiting for his heavenly Master's call. 
 
 It was an undesigned but impressive coincidence 
 that' during the last days of his life, when blindness had 
 closed his eyes, he employed his vacant hours by trans- 
 lating (through successive dictations) into Latin, Greek, 
 German, Italian, Spanish, French, Welsh, the striking 
 apologue which tells us that, 'as Sleep is the brother 
 of Death, thou must be careful to commit thyself to the 
 care of Him who is to awaken thee both from the Death 
 
 1 The admission of Dissenters to the Universities. 
 " The plan of concurrent endowment for the Irish Ohnrches. See 
 Remains, p. 213. 
 
PREFACE. xix 
 
 of Sleep and from the Sleep of Death,' and whidh tells 
 us further that the ' outward occurrences of life, whether 
 prosperous or adverse, have no more effect than dreams 
 on our real condition, since virtue alone is the real end 
 and enduring good.' These words, thus rendered with 
 all the energy of his unbroken mind into those seven 
 languages, contain by hazard, as I have said, yet 
 surely not without significance, .the two simple, sublime 
 elements of religion — the two conclusions which, not 
 only in those closing hours, but in the fulness of his 
 life, penetrated his reason and his faith: unwavering 
 reverence for the supreme goodness of God, unshaken 
 conviction of the true grandeur of goodness in man. 
 Suddenly the summons came. With one call for him 
 who had been as his own son on earth — with one cry 
 to his Lord in heaven, who to his upward gaze seemed 
 yet more visible and yet more near — he passed, as we 
 humbly trust, from the death of sleep, and from the 
 sleep of death, to the presence of that Light in which 
 he shall see light. 
 
 'Where shall wisdom be found, and where is the 
 place of understanding ? ' 
 
 ' Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and 
 to depart from evil is understanding.' 
 
On the stone which covers the grave of the two illus- 
 trioiis scholars and friends in Westminster Abbey are these 
 words : — 
 
 GEOEGE GEOTE, 
 
 HISTORIAN OP GREECE, 
 
 BORN NOVEMBER 17, 1794. DIED JUNE 18, 1871. 
 
 IN STERNA MEMORIA ERIT JUSTUS. 
 
 CONNOP THIELWALL, 
 
 SCHOLAH, HISTORIAN, THEOLOGIAN. 
 
 FOR THIRTY-FOUR TEARS BISHOP OF ST. DAVId's. 
 
 BORN FEBRUARY 11, 1797. DIED JULY 27, 1875. 
 
 COR SAPIENS BT INTBLLIGENS AD DISCERNBNDUM JUDICIUM. 
 
 GWYN EI FYD. 
 
 [white is his WORLD.] 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 1864. 
 
 Page 
 Cornwall — Etymology of Seilly — Bishop Thirlwall ordained a Druid 
 — His Interest in Welsh Legends — Merlin's Prophecies — Bon- 
 over (Beaumaris) — Unfulfilled Prediction of Matthieu du 
 Dr6me 1 
 
 1865. 
 
 Pius IX. — Edward Davis — View of Loss by Death and of Sympathy 
 
 — Beunion of Friends in a Future State — Present Agency of 
 Departed Spirits — King Arthur — Lord Lytton — Protestant 
 Movement in Italy — Windsor Castle — Regard for the Welsh 
 Language — KecoUeotions of a Roman Spring — Connection with 
 Radnorshire — Breton Congress — Napoleon III. — Love of Nature 
 
 — His Supply of Books — Taine's 'Histoire de la Litterature 
 Anglaise ' — The Thames near Richmond — Zoological Gardens — 
 .Ireland — Dean Stanley — Miss Murray — Objection to destroying 
 Papers — Remarks on Humor — Mrs. Gaskell — Observations on 
 Books — Miss Berry — The Influence of Mistakes upon the Present 
 and Future — Repentance of Sin and Sins — Forgiveness of Sin 
 and Sins — Torquay — Governor Eyre 10 
 
 1866. 
 
 Miss Berry — Rev. F^ W. Robertson — Broad, Low, and High Church 
 — Anecdote of Sir Charles Napier — Story of Caliph Mamoun — 
 Legend of Abraham — Ecce Homo — Henri Martin — Miss Mar- 
 tineau — Wilkie Collins — Matthew Arnold — Earl Russell — W. E. 
 Gladstone — Ladies' Politics — Indian Legend — Gabriele Rossetti 
 
xxii CONTENTS. 
 
 Pagb 
 
 — Aiistro-German War — John Stuart Mill— Cession of Venetia 
 
 — Napoleon III. — Carlyle — Socrates — Indian and European 
 Legends — Conduct of the English in India — Novel-writers . . 56 
 
 1867. 
 
 Eugenie de Guerin — Observations on Books — Puritanical Observ- 
 ance of the Sabbath — Reform Demonstration — Designs for the 
 Law Courts — Speeches in the House of Commons — The Tich- 
 boume Dole — Allusions to Speeches on St. David's Day (1867) 
 
 — Allusions to Charge (1867) and Attacks upon it — Itecollec- 
 tions of Italy — History of Greece — Grote's ' History of Greece ' — 
 Windsor Castle — Welsh Books — Meteoroliths — Mill on Female 
 Suffrage — Trinity College, Cambridge— Placed on the Rubric 
 Commission — Canterbury — The Tower — Pan- Anglican Synod — 
 Remarks on Botany and Zoology — Faithfulness — Dream of 
 Tiberius — Etymology of Gosse 100 
 
 1868. 
 
 Dutch and German Novels — Ritualism at Tenby — The Talmud — 
 Ecce Homo — Tyndall's Lecture on Faraday — Napoleon I. — 
 Glory and Fame — ■ Mackonochie Case — Robespierre — Selfishness 
 
 — Goethe- — Bunsen — Irish Church Question — The Queen's Diary 
 translated into Welsh — Earl of Derby — Earl Russell — Primitise 
 
 — Literary Criticism — Eclipse of the Sun — Indian Legend — 
 Queen of Spain and Spanish Prospects — Miss Bremer's Anec- 
 dote of a Bird — Nature and Value of Rumor — Legal Faculty 
 
 — Demoralizing Effect of Contested Elections — Ecclesiastical 
 Appointments — W. E. Gladstone — John Stuart Mill — Governor 
 Eyre — New Parliament (1868)- — Political Poem on the Irish 
 Church Question — Kinglake's Crimean War . . . .155 
 
 1869. 
 
 Birds — Destruction of Druid Remains in Brittany — Vitality of 
 South American States — Napoleon I. — The National Gallery — 
 Victor Hugo — India Office — Musical Recollections — Cambridge 
 — • Huxley — Pronunciation of Greek — Speech on the Irish Church 
 Bill — The Thames — The Temple — Carl Meyer — Tau Coronse — 
 
CONTENTS. xxiii 
 
 Page 
 Charge (1869) — Slavonic Legends — Queen Elizabeth — Goethe — 
 Matthew Arnold 212 
 
 1870. 
 
 Fronde's ' Queen Elizabeth'— Etymology of Grail— Rowland "Williams 
 — Exhibition, Burlington House — Article in the 'Edinburgh 
 Review ' on Geology — Myths — Charles I. — Cromwell — Mary 
 Queen of Scots — Huxley — Index Expurgatorius — Old Testa- 
 ment Revision Company — Beaumaris — Infallibility Decree 
 
 Franco-German War — Plymouth Brethren— Seimons . . 251 
 
 1871. 
 
 Carlyle — Westminster Commission — Supposed Contrast between 
 
 the Heathen-philosophical and the Christian View of Death 
 
 Infallibility Decree — French Feeling towards Germans — Re- 
 marks on Pius IX. — Observations on Reading — Metaphysics — 
 Ex-Cathedra Declarations — Religious Persecution — Moral Judg- 
 ment in Sleep — Symbol of the Cross — Tichbome Case — Paris — 
 Grote — Prince of Wales — Sir Moses Montefiore .... 286 
 
 1872. 
 
 Controversy about Prayer — ' Middlemarch ' — Speech on the Athana- 
 sian Creed — Mr. Burgon — Sir George Lewis — Llanover — Llanarth 
 Motto — John Wesley — ' Gates Ajar ' — Stopford Brooke . . 330 
 
 1873. 
 
 ' Middlemarch ' — Rev. Malcolm MacCoU — Mastland Manse — Napo- 
 leon III. — i'rince Imperial of France — Louise Lateau — Mrs. 
 Somerville — Hans Christian Andersen — Whitley Stokes — Pro- 
 fessor Sedgwick — Hurricane in Minnesota — Coal — Novels — 
 Marie Alacoque — Radnorshire — Miss C. Williams Wynn — John 
 Stuart Mill — Purgatory — Roman Catholic Faith — Life and 
 Affection 344 
 
 1874 
 
 Elections — ' Quatre-vingt-treize ' — Lord Houghton — Resignation of 
 the Bishopric of St. David's — His Removal to Bath — His Pro- 
 
xxiv CONTENTS. 
 
 Paob 
 posed Eevision of his Works — His Failing Sight — Verses on 
 Friendship 360 
 
 APPENDICES 369 
 
 INDEX 385 
 
1864 
 
 'Abekgwili Palace, 23 Aug., 1864; 
 
 'I AM truly obliged to you for your Cornish journal, 
 which, while it brings the scenes it describes vividly 
 before my mind, excites in me a strong desire to visit 
 them myself; so that if it should ever happen to me, 
 at the right time in the year, to have just a week at 
 my command, I should be strongly tempted to rush to 
 the Land's End and actually see my Yarrow. I am 
 afraid that if I did I should be base enough to keep 
 above ground, unless you can assure me that either the 
 glory or the sensation repays the trouble of the descent 
 into that Botallack Mine. I should certainly be more 
 attracted by the rocks, castles, and gardens, and espe- 
 cially the monastic ruins. As you kindly leave me the 
 alternative, I will keep the Diary with religious care 
 until I have the pleasure of returning it into your own 
 hands. 
 
 ' I shall be glad to read it again and re-consider 
 some of the etymology. I cannot help feeling a little 
 doubt about that of Scilly, in which no account is 
 taken of the c : though there would certainly be no 
 difficulty about the s. You seem to have forgotten that 
 the Welsh for Whit-Sunday is Y Sulgwyn. It is re- 
 markable that in Breton, also, Sul is Sunday, though 
 " sun" is eol. It looks as if the s was only preserved 
 
 1 
 
2 BISHOP THIEIiW ALL'S 
 
 in the case of the Dies solis.' That would be against 
 the proposed etymology of Scilly. Also, judging from 
 the view in your first sheet, I should doubt whether 
 the general aspect of the isles was likely to suggest a 
 name compounded with Llech, which is not a rock, but 
 a broad slab, or flat stone. 
 
 ' The epistolary fragment is consigned to He- 
 phaestus, according to your direction. But I am 
 alarmed by an expression in your concluding observa- 
 tions, where you speak of ^'■the Arch-druidic mantle 
 having fallen upon me." I was aware that I had been 
 ordained a Druid, but had not the least suspicion that 
 I had been created Supreme Pontiff of the Order. But 
 no doubt, as the youngest and humblest of its mem- 
 bers, I am concerned in the fact of its existence. How 
 odd it is that there should be at the same time two 
 Wilsons broaching heterodox opinions. I hope that 
 your " better instructed " friend will soon put forth an 
 "Aid" to Druidic "Faith." Something really ought 
 to be done. Hitherto it has been generally believed 
 that the latin word Flamen, a priest, was derived from 
 Filwm, the thread with which the head of such a priest 
 was bound, as was my arm with the mystic white 
 riband attached to it by Dr. James. But if things go 
 on at this rate, we shall have people maintaining that 
 flamen, is derived from the English flam.'' 
 
 ' Abbrgwili Palace, 23 Nov., 1864. 
 « . . . . Many thanks for H. Martin's " Manin." I 
 am surprised that it had escaped me, as I commonly 
 hear of all the more notable French literary novelties, 
 and should have been attracted by a work of Martin's, 
 especially on such a subject. 
 
LETTERS TO A ERIEND. 3 
 
 'In him the Celtic confederacy has, no doubt, a 
 very able champion. But will even he be able to make 
 head against the master of thirty legions? Unless 
 Caesar has been led to see the error of his ways since 
 1859, when he forbade a Breton reunion like that 
 which M. Martin hopes to organize, it may have to 
 wait for another dynasty ' 
 
 'Abbrgwili Palace, 25 Nov., 1864. 
 
 ' .... I should be very glad on my own account, 
 as well as yours, if I knew of any published collection 
 of Welsh Legends, and should value the legendary 
 proper more than those which pretended to be his- 
 torical. As there must once have existed in popular 
 tradition ample ' materials for such a volume, like the 
 " Tales of the South of Ireland " (translated into Ger- 
 man by the Brothers Grimm), their own " German 
 Children's Tales," Campbell's "Popular Tales of the 
 Western Highlands " (which I hope you have), Da- 
 sent's " Popular Tales from the Norse " (another deli- 
 cious book), it is a thousand pities that those of Wales 
 should not have been preserved. But I very much fear 
 that very few of them have survived. I remember that 
 several years back an inquiry was sent to me from 
 some collector of Folk-Lore in Germany, I forget 
 through what English friend, whether I could furnish 
 him with any Welsh legends — meaning such as are 
 still current among the people. I did not know of any 
 such, and if they existed probably a bishop is about 
 the last person who would have any chance of hearing 
 them at the cottage fireside. But if they had existed 
 as late as the last century, I am afraid that then, at 
 least, they must, all have been swept away by the great 
 
4 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 religious movtement, which, however beneficial it may 
 have been in other respects, ,was not favorable to 
 poetry and art. I suppose there is no pious family 
 amone the lower or middle classes which would not 
 think it a sin to repeat or listen to such stories. Your 
 question has reminded me that I meant to have shown 
 you a collection of Merlin's Prophecies, printed at 
 Carmarthen in 1812. They cover the whole history of 
 the Island, " from Brute to the reign of King Charles." 
 Admitting it to be probable that Merlin did write such 
 a prophetic history, one might still think it strange 
 that he should stop at. the reign of King Charles, and 
 be led to suspect that the history was written then, 
 and referred to Merlin as a prophecy. But, on the 
 other hand, there is that prediction of the Lancastrian 
 usurpation recorded by Froissart, which, though I 
 have not recovered it, I know I read, and which proves 
 the great antiquity of a part at least of the collection 
 — at least of a popular belief that Merlin had predicted 
 all the great events of English history. The prophe- 
 cies are in an English metrical translation, but in the 
 Appendix are some in Welsh, which, as they threaten 
 destruction to the Saeson — " gwae fydd i'r Saeson 
 creulon eu genu i'r byd erioed"i — I can only read 
 with a Paternoster, that, if not already fulfilled, they 
 never may be. I do not mean you to suppose that thif 
 may be the collection in question, as, though it is 
 partly legendary, by far the greater part is merely an 
 outline of English history down to the accession of 
 Charles I ' 
 
 1 'Woe to the cruel Saxons, that ever they were born into the 
 world.' 
 
LETTERS TO A PEIEND. ' 5 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 3 Dec., 1864. 
 
 'It is always a great pleasure to me to receive a 
 letter from you. It is sure to be agreeable, and gen- 
 erally imparts some useful information. I have been 
 prevented from answering your last sooner by a journey 
 to Radnorshire, on an occasion of which you may see a 
 report in yesterday's " Times." 
 
 ' I am very much obliged to you for the extract 
 from Froissart, with the help of which I have re- 
 covered that of Buchon's edition, though so very dif- 
 ferently arranged. I have sent a copy, as I thought 
 you might like to see the original, and also the editor's 
 notes, especially that on the Lancastrian revolution of 
 ,this century. 
 
 ' I am sorry that I do not possess Wace's " Brut." 
 But it seems certain that, so far from containing any 
 prophecy of Merlin's about the houses of York and 
 Lancaster, it omitted even that which is found in the 
 Brut Arthur, and translated in Book VII. of Geoffrey of 
 Monmouth. For San-Marte, in his edition of Geoffrey, 
 gives in a note an extract from Wace, in which he 
 assigns two reasons for so doing : — 
 
 ' Dont dit Merlins les propkesies 
 Que vous avey souvent oies. 
 Des rois qui k venir estoient 
 Qui la t&e tenir devoient. 
 Ne voit son Uvre translater 
 Quant jo n£ V sai entrepreter : 
 Nule rien dire ne volroie 
 Qu' issi ue fu com jo diroie.' 
 
 ' This appears to me to make the passage in Froissart 
 the more curious and interesting. 
 
 'I quite agree with you that there ought to be a 
 collection of Welsh Legends. And I now strongly 
 
6 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ■f 
 
 suspect that none of the kind you speak of has ever 
 been made. For I believe I now know something 
 about that which you have heard of. I was led by 
 your letter to look into Keightley's " Fairy Mythol- 
 ogy," which, I remembered, contains a few samples of 
 Welsh Fairy Legends ; and there I found the following 
 passage : — 
 
 ' " The legends, of which we will now proceed to 
 give a specimen, were collected and published in the 
 latter half of the eighteenth century by a Welsh clergy- 
 man, who seems to have entertained no doubt whatever 
 of the truth of the adventures contained in them," 
 with a note: "A relation of Apparitions of Spirits in 
 the County of Monmouth (?) and (?) the Principality of 
 Wales, by the Rev. Edward Jones of the Tiarch." 
 Keightley himself, however, only knew the work by 
 extracts supplied by Mr. Croker. It is probably very 
 scarce now, but the more valuable for having been pre- 
 Lancastrian. 
 
 'In a following page Keightley adds some legends 
 collected in 1827, in the Vale of Neath, by a lady named 
 Williams (no doubt of Aberpergwm) with whom he 
 became acquainted when travelling in North Wales; 
 and he says they were originally intended for his work, 
 but " circumstances caused them to appear in the supple- 
 mental volume of the ' Irish Fairy Legends.' " ^ I do 
 not think I halve ever seen that supplemental volume. 
 But, as I observed, the legends which you cite are of 
 quite a different kind, and of far higher interest and 
 
 1 These legends, Fairy Tales of Olyrmedd, were contributed by the late 
 Miss Jane Williams, of Aberpergwm, who, in 1844, published the Ancient 
 National Airs of Owent and Morganwg, the words and music of which she 
 had collected among the peasantry of these districts. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 7 
 
 value. Why should you not make such a collection 
 yourself ? It would be a pleasant occupation for your- 
 self, and a gain to the public. 
 
 ' You know we ought, within two days hence, to hare 
 another storm, which M. Matthieu de la DrSme has pre- 
 dicted as the greatest in the century. Yet to-day — 
 being very wet and still — the glass is at Fair.' 
 
 'Abbkgwili Palace, 13 Dec., 1864. 
 
 ' You give me credit for much more knowledge than 
 I possess. It is from you that I have learnt that Beau- 
 maris had any earlier name. That of Bonover I never 
 heard before ; nor can I guess how it is derived, or to 
 what language it belongs.^ I thought it possible I might 
 find something bearing on the question in Leland ; but 
 only discovered that just where he might have been 
 expected to speak of Anglesey, two pages are missing 
 in the MS., and he has not a word about M6n. I then 
 looked into Pennant's " Tour in Wales " (and is it not 
 delightful to be carried back to that age of innocent sim- 
 plicity when people brought out Journeys in Wales, just 
 as they do now a Trip to Tartary, or a Holiday in the 
 Himalayas?), and good Pennant does contain some inter- 
 esting facts about the early history of Beaumaris, but 
 they are such as to raise a great doubt in my mind, 
 whether before the time of Edward I. there was any- 
 thing there but the marsh on which was built the castle 
 round which the town afterwards grew. " Edward," 
 he says " created the place ; " " he built this fortress 
 
 1 'The chief town Bevmiaris, formerly called Bonover, built by this 
 King EdAvard I., together with a strong castle.' — The History of the Pria- 
 oipality of WaUs, by K. B., 1695. 
 
8 BISHOP THIKLWALL'S 
 
 in 1295, and fixed on a marshy spot, near tbe chapel 
 of St. Meugan." " The marsh was in early times of 
 a far greater extent than at present, and covered with 
 fine bulrushes." " The lands on which Edward built 
 the castle were private property; and it appears that 
 he made the owners full satisfaction, and among other 
 recompenses bestowed on Eineon ap Meredydd, Gruf- 
 fydd ap Evan, and Eineon ap Tegerin, lands in the 
 township of Earianell and Tre'r Ddol, free from rent 
 or service ; the castle itself being built on their ground." 
 This does not sound as if there had been any dwell- 
 ings there before. " Edward built the town." There 
 can be no reason why you should not undertake a 
 collection of Welsh legends. The main requisites for 
 such a work are, I think, a keen enjoyment and deli- 
 cate appreciation of the poetry, and the utmost sim- 
 plicity in the rendering. Both I believe you possess 
 and command. 
 
 ' You never told me anything about the surviving 
 fairies, nor about that stone (I suppose of Ancyra, 
 which happens to be also famous for another, most 
 celebrated and important, known as the Monumen- 
 tum Ancyranum, containing a record of the Acts of 
 Augustus). 
 
 ' The positiveness of Matthieu de la DrSme's pre- 
 diction, I have no doubt, caused the postponement of 
 many voyages, and thus to an extent which no one 
 can calculate, disturbed the sequence of events in the 
 world. And what a number of incalculable causes 
 must have conspired to possess Matthieu de la DrSme 
 with that firm belief in his own false prophecy ! ' 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 9 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 20 Dec., 1864. 
 
 ' I hope you do not mean rigorously to execute your 
 alarming threat, never to write to me again : but only 
 intended to express your conviction that no letter of 
 yours can ever " trouble " me. I should not know 
 how to put pen to . paper if I thought this was the last 
 letter I was to write to you .... there is certainly 
 no reason for rejecting the positive statement, from 
 whatever source it may have been derived, as to the 
 existence of a Bonover somewhere in the neighborhood 
 of Beaumaris. The name might have been given — like 
 Boscobel — to a single house, as well as to a village. 
 That either, however, stood on the exact site of the 
 Castle, so that Edward shauld have had occasion to 
 change the name, seems evidently a mere guess. And 
 the silence of Pennant — who drew his statements from 
 ancient Welsh documents — appears to me to throw 
 very great doubt on this point. 
 
 ' The mine-fairy ^ must, I should think, be a species 
 peculiar to Wales. In Germany, at least, the care 
 of mines is assigned to an entirely different class of 
 beings. 
 
 ' I cannot say that I much like to hear of a clergy- 
 man coming up with a troop of fairies on the turnpike 
 road. Ill-natured people would be apt to think that 
 his visual organs had been recently endued with a 
 multiplying power '^ 
 
 1 Appendix A. 
 
 2 In allusion to a statement that a clergyman had seen a troop of 
 fairies, dressed in green, pass along a turnpike-road, and through a 
 turnpike-gate, near which they made their way over the hedge, and dis- 
 appeared into a tumulus in the neighboring field. 
 
 1* 
 
10 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 1865. 
 
 ' Abergwili Palaob, Caemarthen, 3 Jam,,, 1865. 
 
 ' - . , . The history of Pio Nono is quite a tragedy. I 
 am reading the last volume of the unhappily unfinished 
 (and never to be finished) work of Gualterio, " Gli 
 ultimi Rivolgimenti Italiani," which relates the open- 
 ing of the present Pontificate. I had not before quite 
 so clear an idea of the Pope's character, and of its in- 
 fluence on the course of events. 
 
 ' He began with good intentions for a moderate 
 reform, not one which would ever have reached to the 
 root of the evil. He found himself placed between 
 the expectations of the Liberals on the one hand — 
 expectations which he had unconsciously and unwill- 
 ingly raised to an extravagant height — and the stub- 
 born opposition of the Conservatives, by whom he was 
 surrounded on the other. He wanted strength of 
 mind and character to control or withstand either, and 
 yielded alternately to the one through a strong craving 
 for popularity, to the other through good-nature and 
 unwillingness to give ofEence. 
 
 ' When at last the storm which he had raised through 
 his own fluctuations of will and purpose fell upon him, 
 he threw himself without reserve into the hands of the 
 reactionary party, and closes his reign by a revival of 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. H 
 
 the pretensions of Boniface VIII. .... He seems to 
 have been always conscious of his own weakness, and 
 was alarmed at the expectations which he felt he had 
 neither the energy nor the ability to fulfil. Gualterio 
 says : " Non lasciava di dire ingenuamente agli amici : 
 Ma si vuole da me ci6 di cui non sono capace : Dio mio ! 
 mi credono un Napoleone. Ma se non ne ho n^ la forza 
 n^ I'ingegho ! " 
 
 ' Poor man ! with his Immaculate Conception, and 
 his Peter's pence, and his Antonellis and Merodes, all 
 conspiring to keep every breath of truth from reaching 
 him, and lapping him in a dream of universal monarchy 
 in the depth of his actual impotence. 
 
 ' I return all the best wishes of the New Year, but 
 feeling that no one has more need of them than myself, 
 if they would help to make it a little more profitable 
 than its forerunners. My unfortunate experience is, 
 that the less time I have remaining the faster it seems 
 to run, and the less to deposit of what is good for any- 
 thing.' 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 25 Jan., 1865. 
 
 ' You are not content with making all your letters 
 delightful, but seem bent on making each more delight- 
 ful than the last. No story in Scheherazade's budget, 
 nay, no chapter of Sir Edward himself, could be so in- 
 teresting as your description of Knebworth, which not 
 only pictures the place, but opens a view into the labo- 
 ratory of the owner's mind. I am most thankful for the 
 sight of his letter, which I return. 
 
 ' It is strikingly characteristic of the writer, and a 
 very precious memorial. There are two or three words 
 which made me wish that his hand had been more like 
 
12 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 yours, which is the perfection of practical caligraphy. 
 You give me credit for much more reading than I pos- 
 sess. I never saw or even heard of the ' Student,' i and 
 am sorry it exists, as it has deprived me of some ad- 
 ditional pleasure which I should otherwise have en- 
 joyed. I am rather glad to find that the stone which 
 has been puzzling us so long, turns out after all to be no 
 other than the famous Monumentum Aneyranum. But 
 
 it is for to say what has become of those British 
 
 kings, who, as I at first supposed, were the main sub- 
 ject of the inscription. They might have dropped 
 through one of the many chinks in the stone, which it 
 is to be hoped may be now filled up ^ — only I wish it 
 had been a German or English savant who was to take 
 the new copy. At present a good deal is said about 
 some of the neighboring Asiatic kingdoms, Armenia, 
 Parthia, &c., in which Augustus achieved some mili- 
 tary or diplomatic successes : but I find no allusion to 
 Galatia or its tetrarchs. That may be owing to the 
 modesty of the people of Ancyra. Only if they were 
 silent on the subject, I do not understand how you 
 came to hear of it. 
 
 ' This reminds me to ask whether you know a Welsh 
 artist whom I consider as one of the most ingenious and 
 original sculptors of our day — Edward Davis. Many 
 years ago I sat to him for a bust.^ He afterwards exe- 
 cuted a little memorial which I erected in Abergwili 
 Church in honor of Bishop Richard Davis, one of the 
 
 1 The Student, a series of papers, by E. L. Bulwer. 
 
 '■* Tab. vi. req]es Britanii[oruin] Damno Bella [unusque] et Tim . . . 
 [Ciinl3r]orum Maelo, Mar[o]omanorum . Suebo .... 
 
 Monvmentvm Ancyranvm, 1845. 
 
 2 Edward Davis made a copy of the bust of Bisbop Thirlwall for "West- 
 minster Abbey in 1876. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 13 
 
 Welsli translators of the Bible — which is also enriched 
 with a charming englyn of Tegid's. Meyer admired it, 
 the monument, as a most beautiful composition. I have 
 just received from him, E. Davis, an exquisite photo- 
 graph of a group of " Madonna and Child," which led 
 Bunsen also to consider him a great artist. One side 
 of that greatness is that he has hardly an idea outside 
 his art. This gives a unity and simplicity to his char- 
 acter which in our day is very rare. 
 
 ' If, when you are in London, you would pay a visit 
 to his studio, 17 Russell Place, Fitzroy Square, he would 
 be highly gratified, and you would see a number of beau- 
 tiful things 
 
 ' Gualterio is very far indeed from being devoted to 
 the Papacy : but, on the other hand, he is far too grave a 
 historian to descend to any details — especially scandal 
 — of private life which do not affect or illustrate the 
 course of political events. I infer, however, from his 
 silence that he did not believe much of what has been 
 rumored about Pio's -juvenile gallantry and later at- 
 tachments. I thought I must have seen all about it in 
 a book which I was tempted by the title-page to pur- 
 chase as a work of About's. For it is there entitled, 
 " Pr^liminaires de la Question Romaine, de M. Ed. 
 About." But when I began to read it, I found that it 
 is the work of one F. Petrucelli della Gattina, who had 
 obtained About's permission to send it forth with that 
 deceptive title. It is an introduction by Gattina to 
 About's work. He relates the antecedents of Pio Nono 
 in great detail : painting his character in the darkest 
 colors, but so dark that he misses his aim, and leaves 
 the impression that the whole is a caricature by a 
 violent partisan of Mazzini He has not con- 
 
14 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 vinced me that Pio is an Alexander VI. or a Louis XV. 
 I think it most probable that there was nothing worse 
 in any of these intimacies than there was in that of 
 Gregory VII. with the Countess Matilda, or in that of 
 Innocent X. with that Donna Olimpia who governed the 
 Vatican in his name. And assuming that there was 
 nothing but a Platonic tenderness in the case, I think 
 the better of Pio for being susceptible of human affec- 
 tion. I speak disinterestedly, for I have no wish for a 
 red hat. But do not betray me to the " Record." ' 
 
 ' Abbrgwili Palace, 3 Feb., 1865. 
 
 ' I cannot receive your last communication in silence, 
 and yet it seems almost impertinent for me to say any- 
 thing on the subject, as if your sorrow could be soothed 
 by any words of mine. 
 
 ' Indeed I have a strong general distrust of the 
 efficacy of words for such a purpose. There is a peculiar 
 difficulty in the way of ministering comfort in such a 
 case : that the mourner does not wish to be comforted, 
 but on the contrary cherishes and clings to his sorrow 
 as a sacred treasure ; repels every attempt to mitigate 
 it as a wrong both to himself and to the departed. He 
 may be glad of sympathy, but it must be the real sym- 
 pathy of an actual fellowship in the same grief ; and 
 that not because such fellowship lessens the grief, but 
 because it increases it. Expressions of general condo- 
 lence, however, believed to be sincere, may be welcome 
 as tokens of good-will, but can hardly exert any real 
 alleviating power. The afflicted ones stand within a 
 circle of images and feelings of their own, which, painful 
 as they may be, they would not part with for worlds. 
 
LETTERS TO A EEIEND. 15 
 
 Any attempt to draw them out of that circle can only 
 inflict a useless annoyance. 
 
 ' Then is there nothing that a friend outside of the 
 circle can do for one within it, beside a more or less 
 conventional and always ineffectual expression of sym- 
 pathy? I think there is. But I believe the only 
 attainable object must be, where it is needed, not to 
 lessen the quantity, but to alter the quality of the 
 sorrow. ' 
 
 ' For the same sorrow, while it remains undiminished 
 in amount, may be either enervating and depressing or 
 wholesome and bracing. It will be of the former kind 
 as long as the sufferer remains merely passive under it ; 
 it may be of the latter if he can be brought to make a 
 mental effort, not against it, but upon it, so as to view 
 it in its true light. Every judicious attempt at con- 
 solation must, I think, set out with a full acknowledg- 
 ment of the right, the value and dignity of the sorrow, 
 and then go on to show that it is only the shady side of 
 a great privilege and blessing, from which it can only 
 be separated by mental abstraction, 
 
 ' Who that ever had the happiness of knowing a good 
 amiable man could wish not to have known him, or not 
 to have been beloved by him, or not to have loved him, 
 or not to desire the continuance of his friendship and of 
 communion with him ? Yet, except on these conditions, 
 it would be impossible not to mourn over his loss. I 
 know that it is needless to remind you of this ; but, in 
 your self- depreciation, you have dropped words which 
 would imply that a keen sensibility to the loss of de- 
 parted friends is a sign of weakness of mind or imper- 
 fection of character. With due allowance for differences 
 of sex and temperament, I should consider the reverse 
 
16 BISHOP THIKLWALL'S 
 
 of this as the truth ; and therefore I hardly like to say 
 how much on other grounds I deprecate the superiority 
 which you attribute to me. St. Paul would not hare 
 any not to sorrow, but only not as without hope : and 
 the Mirror of perfect holiness was moistened with tears 
 for him whom he loved. 
 
 ' It was indeed a topic of rhetorical consolation 
 among the ancients, that the separation caused by death 
 is only a loss to the survivor ; so that the grief it causes 
 would be a mere selfish passion. I consider this as 
 quite untrue and unjust. Both from the heathen and 
 the Christian point of view, the loss is common to both 
 parties — both have like need to regard the separation 
 as only a temporary absence, such as may take place on 
 earth, but cheered by the prospect of a happy meeting 
 and an abiding union.' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, 17 Feb., 1865. 
 
 ' - . . . The belief in a personal reunion of friends 
 in a future state is, no doubt, only a belief, incapable of 
 a strict demonstration, and not explicitly revealed. It 
 may therefore be consistently rejected by those who 
 withhold their assent from whatever is not so demon- 
 strated or revealed, as of course it must be by those who 
 altogether deny the existence of a world of spirits. But 
 for those who admit the reality of a spiritual world, the 
 affirmation of the negative doctrine is an utterly un- 
 warranted dogmatism on the mere ground of ignorance. 
 The belief in personal reunion and recognition has been 
 held by the wisest and best religious thinkers of all 
 ages. If it is not explicitly taught in the New Testa- 
 ment — that is, if passages which seem to express it 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. I7 
 
 admit of a difEerent interpretation — it is at least appar- 
 ently implied and assumed throughout. 
 
 ' It is, I am aware, hazardous to reason from physi- 
 cal to spiritual laws of being ; but I am struck by an 
 analogy which seems to favor the belief which cheers 
 so many bereaved hearts. The great physical doc- 
 trine on which men of science appear to be either quite 
 agreed or rapidly coming to an agreement is that of 
 the conservation or (as it has been proposed to call 
 it) persistency of Forces, or Force. No force is ever 
 lost, but only passes into a new form. Motion becomes 
 heat. When the fall of the hammer is arrested by the 
 aiivil, there is a sudden cessation of a more or less rapid 
 motion ; but it is invisibly prolonged by an inward 
 vibration, which changes the temperature of the anvil, 
 and which, if iron was sensitive, would be accompanied 
 
 by acute pain Then, I would ask, are not love 
 
 and friendship forces? Very real, spiritual forces, which 
 in the present state subsist (persist) through all the 
 changes — outward and inward — of oui: mortal life ? Is 
 it to be thought that they are more liable to perish 
 than those which are employed in making a horse- 
 shoe? And if they are indestructible, can it be con- 
 ceived that they are to remain forever without an 
 appropriate object? 
 
 ' The question as to the present agency of departed 
 spirits on their surviving friends is quite a difEerent 
 one, and is almost hopelessly complicated — to any one 
 who does not believe in sensible manifestations of their 
 presence — by the extreme difficulty of distinguishing 
 between the effects produced by the remembrance of 
 the past and such as can only be referred to a present 
 external agency. The ministrations of which you speak 
 
18 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 may, I think, be attributed to the operation of the 
 former cause. But I should be sorry to weaken the 
 
 belief of any one who clings to the other I am 
 
 much obliged to you for your kind offer of a sight of 
 the "Student." I should like best that you should 
 bring it with you when you next brighten Abergwili 
 with your presence. I do not know whether you have 
 "Le Morte Arthur," published last year from a Har- 
 leian MS., with a prefatory essay on Arthur by the late 
 Herbert Coleridge. It is a beautiful little volume, full 
 of manifold interest.' » 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, 27 Feb., 1865. 
 
 ' The " Student " has arrived quite safe ; but in the 
 short interval which remains before my return for my 
 Ordination I shall hardly have time to look much into 
 it. Sir Edward Lytton's way of speaking about oflSce 
 reminds me a little of Chateaubriand, who doted on it 
 while he affected to disdain it. Sir E. is a great master 
 of language, and almost unequalled in the construction 
 of fiction. But I think there is some ground for a , 
 remark which I have seen of a foreign critic, that he 
 stands too visibly aloof from his own creations — like a 
 deity of Epicurus — and that there is more of his mind 
 than of his heart in his works. Their brilliance is too 
 much like that of ice or marble. This is, perhaps, not 
 unconnected with his views of epic poetry, as unfolded 
 in his preface to his " Arthur," which I cannot help 
 thinking altogether erroneous. 
 
 ' Alas 1 I am obliged to own that Herbert Coleridge's 
 opinions about Arthur are far from orthodox. But the 
 poem was probably the work of a believer, who never 
 asked himself the question which that fatal Zulu put to 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 19 
 
 Colenso. And without pronouncing how it ought to be 
 answered in Arthur's case, I must say that it is much 
 better it should not be asked if you mean to enjoy his 
 adventures. To reconcile thepi with his historical per- 
 sonality is exceediiJgly difficult ; and if, giving' them up 
 as historical facts," you only insist on his " existence," 
 what is left but a mere shadowy abstraction, incapable 
 of inspiring any hunaan being with a genuine interest ? 
 And why should not your patriotic sympathies be satis- 
 fied, if you bring yourself to think of him as the child 
 of his country, which he certainly was, rather than as 
 its father, which is so very doubtful ? 
 
 ' The revelations contained in the letter I return, as 
 to the Protestant movement in Italy, would have been 
 very melancholy if I had ever expected anything from 
 it in its present shape. But I believe it to be altogether 
 a mistake. I am persuaded that no Italian Reforma- 
 tion can ever be made to rest on so narrow a basis. 
 The Papal system has ho doubt made sad havoc with 
 the Christianity of all the intelligence of the country. 
 But yet I think it probable that there is much of it, 
 both among clergy and laity, which may be recovered 
 to, or preserved in, the faith of Christ. But if so, it 
 must be by the exhibition- of a church which does not 
 break with all ecelesiastitjal'. traditions, but aims at re- 
 storing them to their original purity ; which preserves 
 all" the institutions and usages that are not at variance 
 with the fundamental truths of the gospel ; one capable 
 of comprehending in its pale large masses, not merely 
 a few knots of " converted " men, whose only bond of 
 union consists in their common interpretation of some 
 questionable texts, and who treat all who do not adopt 
 their opinions as heathens. Though I believe that the 
 
20 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 Church of England comes nearer to such an ideal than 
 any other body now existing, I am far from desiring, 
 much more from expecting, that it should be trans- 
 planted as it is into Italy, where I do not imagine it 
 could ever thrive. But I think it might suggest a 
 franiework for a practicable reformation. Only, as long 
 as the Papal domination subsists, it is useless to speculate 
 on such a possibility. And the Italian statesmen proba- 
 bly care for nothing but the independence of the civil 
 government, and, that being secured, would be as much 
 opposed to any religious innovation as the most bigoted 
 priest. How good it was of you to insert such a balmy 
 reminiscence of the country ! I cherish it with all the 
 gratitude with which I remain . . . .' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 13 March, 1865. 
 ' .... As to Arthur, I am afraid that I have led 
 you into a misapprehension. Your question as to the 
 possibility of his having been " held real " by " a race 
 not heathen," and therefore "not in the habit of per- 
 sonifying wholly ideal beings," seems to imply that he 
 has been regarded, by those who question his historical 
 existence, as a personification like those whicli fill the 
 heathen mythologies. But I am not aware that this is 
 the case. I must frankly own that, in the abstract, I 
 should not think it impossible, or without a parallel, 
 that sUjCh a personification, having sprung up in, a 
 heathen period, should be ti-ansmitted, under another 
 name and different attributes, through Christian times. 
 The vitality of heathen traditions nnder the dominion 
 of Christianity is attested by numberless instances. 
 But I have no such hypothesis about Arthur, nor, as I 
 said, am I aware that it has been proposed by any one. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 21 
 
 In fact, I do not think the question is so much whether 
 or not Arthur was a historical personage, as in what 
 sense the proposition is to be understood. If it is only 
 that there was a time when British princes were at war 
 with the Saxons, and that one of those princes was 
 named Arthur, it seems to me that nothing can be 
 more probable. But with regard to everything but the 
 name, this is not a distinct historical fact, but simply 
 a general description of a state of things; and if this 
 is the only thread of historical truth in the whole web 
 of legend relating to Arthur, it seems hardly worth con- 
 tending about. And it does not seem as if anything 
 more was maintained by the most learned modern Welsh 
 writers. Carnhuanawc^ himself appears to attach no 
 value whatever to the story of the exhumation.^ 
 
 ' But for my own part I perfectly agree with you in 
 your yearning after reality — matter of fact — whenever 
 it can be brought to light. 
 
 ' I should be willing to exchange a great mass of 
 fiction — perhaps all Sir Edward's poem — for a few 
 grains of unquestionable historical truth on the subject. 
 Only, where this is not to be had, I think it wise to be' 
 content with the creature of the imagination, which 
 after all is a fact, and a very precious fact, though of a 
 different kind. The more I prize historical truth the 
 more jealous I am of all unauthenticated claims to its 
 character. 
 
 ' I do wish for leisure to read " Arthur," though I 
 strongly suspect that the author is mistaken in his 
 
 1 The Rev. Thomas Price, Carnhuanawc (his hardic name), Vicar of 
 Cwmdii, county of Brecon, a learned Welsh scholar, author of the Sanes 
 Cymrv,, a history of Wales written in Welsh, &c. Bom 1787. Died 
 1848. 
 
 2 Appendix B. 
 
22 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 estimate of its comparative value. I know that every- 
 body does not like it, which I beheve could not be said 
 of any of his greater novels. 
 
 ' How happy it is for us that we are totally unable 
 to realize (if I may speak Yankee) such a calamity as 
 the cyclone ! There was an article on it a fortnight 
 ago in the " Spectator," from which it appears that the 
 first accounts fell immensely short of what has since 
 been disclosed by the official reports. The imagination 
 is overwhelmed by its stupendous dimensions and awful 
 efEects.' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 1 April, 1865. 
 
 'You will have begun to think that your letter of 
 the 22nd (now happily ended) March had either mis- 
 carried or been forgotten. It was, however, forwarded 
 to me in London, and has never since been out of my 
 mind; but neither there nor here have I been able ta 
 answer it sooiier. You will have seen how I was 
 engaged during part of my absence from home. My 
 visit to Windsor was extremely pleasant and every way 
 satisfactory, with the exception that I was suffering 
 under a very severe cold, and was generally rather 
 indisposed. 
 
 ' The Queen sent for me soon after the service at 
 which I preached, and honored me with a private 
 interview, which lasted, I think, about a quarter of an 
 hour, leading me through a great variety of topics. 
 One on which we dwelt longest was Wales, the people 
 and the language. Though her sentiments on the 
 subject may be known to you, it would have done you 
 good to have heard the warmth with which she ex- 
 presed her feeling of recoil from the idea of an old 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 23 
 
 language becoming extinct, and you would have been 
 still less able than I was to abstain from expressing 
 your sympathy with it, though, perhaps, hardly war- 
 ranted by the laws of etiquette. Our talk was through- 
 out easy and cheerful : she even told me about her 
 Welsh nurses. 
 
 ' In the evening I had the honor of dining with her 
 at a small round table for eight, of whom five were of 
 the Royal Family, and the other guests were my two 
 friends, Lady Augusta Stanley and the Dean of Windsor. 
 Beside the insight into the interior of their family life, 
 I was glad to meet the King of the Belgians, who 
 
 honored me with a good deal of conversation On 
 
 the whole,; it will dwell with me as a sunny memory. 
 Many thailks for your budget of news, which to me had 
 all the. freshness of perfect novelty. I have since heard 
 that there is no doubt about the unhappy defection of 
 Lady Herbert of Lea. I am glad to have my ideas of 
 Miss Mulock more and more enlarged and defined. I 
 had never known anything of her but as the author of 
 " John Halifax, Gentleman." I cannot qu,ite make out 
 whether she is a deaconess, or a sister of charity, or 
 simply a good woman (by no means a contemptible 
 thing, even without cowl, cord, or crucifix). Many 
 thanks also for the verses, which are very pretty. I 
 fulfilled my promise of buying her romantic tales, but 
 have hitherto only found time to read one. From the 
 titles and names it would seem as if they were rather 
 classical than romantic. But I find I must shut up, 
 unless I lose this post.' 
 
24 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ' Abergwili Palace, 10 April, 1865. 
 
 ' . . . . But, except in private houses, I am afraid 
 one has no chance of seeing a Welsh harper in Wales, a 
 disuse much to be regretted.^ 
 
 ' .... I sympathize with you in your loss of a 
 trusty old servant. It is perfectly irreparable. Even 
 if the thing had not unhappily become so very scarce, 
 it could not fall to the lot of the same family twice in 
 one generation. It is not a treasure to be found by a 
 lucky chance, but has to be amassed by much care and 
 pains. Shakespeare, indeed, speaks of Adam's attach- 
 ment as a rare sample of the " constant service of the 
 antique world, when service sweat for duty, not for 
 meed : " and the relation is probably now much more 
 unstable than it was in his time. But still, as it de- 
 pends mainly on certain permanent laws of human 
 nature, it will no doubt always reward the trouble of 
 cultivating it ' 
 
 • Abeegwili Palace, 22 April, 1865. 
 
 'Again I have to thank you for a letter full of sweet, 
 
 pleasant, and interesting things. Though I have not 
 
 stirred from home since my return from London, the 
 
 rich perfume of your violets not only regales my sense, 
 
 but recalls the recollection of those which at this 
 
 season, now near half a century ago, I was gathering 
 
 in the delicious byways about the walls of Rome, where 
 
 I used to stroll in a more intense enjoyment of the 
 
 spring than I have ever tasted since : though this, 
 
 from the suddenness and vigor of its outburst, re- 
 
 1 GiufFydd, Welsh Harper Extraordinary to H.R.H. the Prince of 
 Wales (and Domestic Harper to Lady Llanover), by Lady Llanover'a 
 permission, and desire, instructs pupils who, it is hoped, may be the 
 means of re-establishing the general use of the Welsh harp. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 25 
 
 sembles it more than any other I can remember. I am 
 truly thankful for the sight of the photograph, which 
 enables me perfectly to realize the object which pre- 
 sented itself to the eyes of the Prince of Wales as he 
 listened to the sweet strains of the Cymrian harp.^ 
 The costume is exceedingly well adapted to the artist's 
 function. But I do not think I should say that it was 
 ideal. If it has a fault, it is that which is by some 
 thought to detract from the merits of Lord Stanley. 
 It is too sensible. Gruffydd, in his succinct garb and 
 easy drawing-room chair, presents quite a contrast to 
 the figure which adorns the frontispiece of a little copy 
 of " Gray's Poems," in which " the bard " is exhibited 
 on the extreme verge of that well-known 
 
 ' ' Eock, whose haughty brow 
 Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood," 
 
 instead of being smooth and glossy from the brush and 
 the razor, like those of Gruffydd — 
 
 " Loose his beard and hoary hair, 
 Stream like a meteor to the troubled air." 
 
 Then, instead of the tight fit, his person is wrapped in 
 one large mantle, the upper part of which, being filled 
 with the wind like a sail, lays bare the whole of his 
 bust. The harp only serves for his left arm to rest 
 upon — and perhaps to prevent him from toppling over 
 until it had become time for him to "plunge deep in 
 the roaring tide to endless night" — while the right 
 arm is uplifted to give emphasis to his denunciations of 
 the "ruthless king:" altogether a figure as different 
 from Gruffydd as the old " tyrant " from our Albert 
 
 1 Gruffydd had the honor of playing at Marlborough House on March 
 28, 1865, upon the Prince of Wales's triple-stringed harp, made by the 
 late Basset Jones, of Cardiff. 
 
 2 
 
26 BISHOP THIRL WALL'S 
 
 Edward, the real and useful clearly predominating over 
 the ideal and picturesque in the photograph. 
 
 - 1 did not see that reprint from the " Orchestra." 
 .... But I feel highly flattered by your determina- 
 tion to let me pass as a Celt. The fact is, I am a 
 hybrid. It would be vain for me to disclaim all Saxon 
 descent, as my name speaks of a time when some of my 
 forefathers were thirling their way with might and 
 main through the old " wall " which was the scene of 
 so many hard-fought battles. But, on the female side, 
 I have reason to believe that I share whatever Welsh 
 blood flows in Radnorshire, where we had family con- 
 nections, which, when I was a boy, were kept up by 
 periodical visits to a house called Stapleton Castle, 
 near pleasant Presteign, of which, though at that time 
 I saw it not, I used to hear a great deal, as well as of 
 the, terrific mountains in the neighborhood — among 
 others Water-break-its-neck — which inspired me with 
 deep longing, not to be gratified until I became a 
 bishop, whefi. I visited the castle, then become a mere, 
 though very picturesque, ruin. It has now very likely 
 disappeared, or made way for a more modern building. 
 But the old hill, over which I rode with great interest, 
 still continues to break the neck of the same little rill, 
 which forms a tiny cascade, stupendous to the untrav- 
 elled eyes of former generations, but not now com- 
 monly producing any very deep sense of awe. 
 
 'All the biographical and historical information of 
 your letter is entirely new to me ; but I am surprised 
 to hear that it is still believed by those who are most 
 likely to know, that Manning is expected to succeed to 
 Westminster. His name has never appeared among 
 those said to have been submitted to the Pope. The 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 27 
 
 last three were, I think, Clifford, UUathorne, and 
 Errington. The last, it seems, was so obnoxious at 
 Rome, that the Pope was almost provoked to throw all 
 three overboard; otherwise, I think Clifford was sup- 
 posed to have the best chance. What (on earth) is to 
 become of the poor Pope himself, what human being — 
 less than a prophetic bard on the edge of a precipice — 
 can pretend to say ? 
 
 ' Pray do not be too sanguine about that Breton 
 Congress.^ If anybody thinks, it will meet in spite of 
 Csesar, he must be reckoning without his host — -unless 
 a part of. the plan is to abolish the imperial rule in 
 Arniorica, and to proclaim some new king of Little 
 Britain..; But no doubt they may invite their Fr^res 
 Gallois without anybody's leave, and with no risk but 
 to those who accept the invitation/ • 
 
 'Abbkgwili Palace, 6 May, 1865. 
 
 ' I am much obliged to you for the - sample of the 
 
 quality of ghostly friends, which I have sent back 
 
 to Miss Jewsbury. In the substance of the contents I 
 observed a strong resemblance to the spiritual commu- 
 nications, reported in a book entitled " Arcanes de la 
 Vie future .D^voil^s," by one Catagnet. There the 
 invisible state is represented as one of universal and 
 unchangeable happiness, but in its occupations and en- 
 joyments not differing much from one of the pleasant 
 lots in the mortal condition. It would almost seem as 
 if the spirits were anxious to entice us to join their 
 company as soon as possible. 
 
 1 This refers to the introduction of a meeting in Brittany similar to 
 the Welsh Eisteddfod, which subsequently took place at St. Brieuc, and 
 the ' Frkes Gallois ' were present. 
 
28 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 'Another point in which Catagnet's messages ap- 
 pear to agree with those received by is that both 
 
 indicate that there is no limit to the knowledge which 
 the ghosts possess of things on earth : and yet, while 
 they are very ready to enter into the fullest description 
 of their own state of existence, they are exceedingly 
 chary of any facts which would enlarge our acquaint- 
 ance with .the world we live in, and which, beside 
 being immediately useful, would be capable of being 
 presently verified I did feel the shock of Lin- 
 coln's death very deeply. Lord Derby's speech on the 
 subject was the worst I ever heard from him. On the 
 preceding Saturday, at the dinner of the Royal Acad- 
 emy, he made one of the happiest I ever listened to. 
 But then the subject was Homer — one much more 
 congenial to him, and which he understood better. 
 The only one I have seen worthy of the occasion 
 was that of the American Minister, at the meeting in 
 London 
 
 'Many thanks for the paper. You are too 
 
 kindly blind to the sad fact that the non-appearance of 
 Merlin proves that the diocese has nofyet been blest 
 with a pious bishop.' ^ 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, 29 Mmj, 1865. 
 ' I am very sorry that I have not been able to write 
 sooner, but during the whole of last week after your, in 
 every sense, sweet ^ letter had been forwarded to me, I 
 was involved in a whirl of engagements which left me, 
 I do not say no time, but — I beg you to mark the im- 
 
 1 ' . . . . "When tliB diocese shall he hlest with a pious Bishop .... 
 no doubt Merlin himself .... will he Aiasnchanted.' ~ English Works 
 of the Eev. Eliezer Williams. 
 
 2 Alluding to an enclosure of flowers. 
 
■LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 29 
 
 portant distinction — no leisure for sitting down to write 
 to you. This morning I take time by the forelock, and 
 intend to finish this before I open any of the letters 
 which are lying beside me. 
 
 ' I am sorry for the delay, not because it can be of 
 the slightest consequence in itself, but only because it 
 may have strengthened your doubt whether I desire the 
 continuance of our correspondence, and I wish to set 
 your mind completely at rest once for all on this point. 
 The doubt could not have suggested itself to any one 
 who was not so amiably unconscious of her own attrac- 
 tions. You evidently take it for granted that the gain 
 is on your side. Even if it was so, after you have told 
 me that my letters afford you a little entertainment, I 
 should be not only unworthy of your kindness, but a 
 strangely selfish creature, if I grudged the time I devote 
 to that object. 
 
 'But however natural it may be for you to fancy 
 that anybody could grow weary of your letters, I beg 
 you to be assured that, in the simply selfish and com- 
 mercial point of view, I consider myself as the gainer 
 by the exchange, and know that the time I invest in it 
 could not be more profitably employed. So far, indeed, 
 as I am a recipient, all on my side of the account is 
 unmixed pleasure and substantial benefit. But as to 
 my active share in the correspondence a word of farther 
 explanation may be required. I must own that I am 
 not fond of letter-writing in the abstract ; that, on the 
 contrary, by far the greater part of the time I spend 
 on it is a most irksome sacrifice to duty. The case is 
 wholly different, indeed quite the reverse, when I am 
 writing to you. Only, that I may really enjoy what I 
 am about, it is necessary that I should be at perfect 
 
30 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 liberty and in the humor for writing. This is what 
 I meant by the distinction between time and leisure. 
 Any time that can be spared is equally good for a letter 
 of business. But the writing to you ought never to be 
 in the nature of a " tax " or a task, but the pleasant 
 relaxation of a really leisure hour, when I have not only 
 no immediately pressing work on hand, but am not 
 distracted by any inward preoccupation. I hope you 
 will let the correspondence proceed under these condi- 
 tions, which will, I trust, relieve you from all possible 
 misgivings about my wishes. 
 
 'I am much obliged to you for the sight of M. 
 Martin's letter. I shall be very curious to hear the 
 plan which you finally adopt for your summer excur- 
 sion. Which of the two between which you are in 
 suspense may be the most likely to yield the greater 
 pleasure, I cannot pretend to say. But I think it is 
 touch more probable that the Congress will not take 
 place than that Csesal" will take advantage of it to lay 
 hands on the associates. He has to deal with a much 
 more formidable conspirator in his own household. 
 Thart unmanageable cousin must fill his .mind with 
 most annoying anxiety about the stability of his dy- 
 nasty and the future of the Prince Imperial. 
 
 'As you take a special interest in Cornwall, there 
 are two books, or parts of books, very lately published 
 which you ought to read. One is a small one, entitled 
 " Popular Romances of the West of England," by one 
 Hunt. The other — which takes an entirely different 
 view of the subject — an article in the collection of 
 Herman Merivale's " Historical Studies." Both will 
 be at your service when I return to the country. 
 
 ' Alas ! it saddens me to think what beautiful things 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 31 
 
 I left there growing every day more beautiful, and that 
 before I return the loveliest will have passed away.' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, Whit Monday, i June, 1865. 
 ' All London, with the exception of a martyr bishop 
 or two, is gone or going out of town ; not only the fig- 
 ures of I the season, but the very ciphers, who, whether 
 present or absent, are not considered as making a part 
 of London at all : one-half already packed in excursion 
 trains, and the other half, as may be gathered from 
 the incessant rattling of wheels, on the way 'to join 
 them. The time seems to invite me to add a small 
 link to our chain. Grateful as I am for the sweets 
 which you send, it is painful to me to be reminded of 
 the beauties I am losing and have lost. There are 
 none which I prize so much as the thorns. But it is 
 a consolation to me to reflect that I lingered among 
 them to the last possible moment — sacrificing that high 
 day at St. Paul's when the Prince of Wales was there, 
 and the dinner at Merchant Taylors' Hall, for the sake 
 of three days more of their development. And now 1 
 shoul'd only find them spoiled and fading away. On 
 Saturday I refreshed myself with a walk in the Zo- 
 ological Gardens, which I had not seen for two years, 
 and found much improved by some new arrangements 
 especially for the greater comfort of the monkeys ; and 
 there I saw a white thorn in full blossom, being, I 
 believe, the only one now visible in the Regent's Park. 
 The creatures themselves are an inexhaustible source of 
 pleasure, and can only be thoroughly enjoyed in fine 
 and what we call hot weather, though most of them 
 would refuse it the name. That is, perhaps, the most 
 sensible excuse that anybody can give for voluntarily 
 
32 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 coming to town at this time of year. Whatever you 
 do, let me conjure you not to send any books to me 
 here. Nothing could be more unwelcome, and actually 
 distressing, than their arrival. It would be like a 
 fresh landing of stores amidst the confusion of Balak- 
 lava. You are evidently not aware of my ways. I 
 always, notwithstanding the lessons of many years' 
 experience, bring up with me, for fear of starvation, 
 about ten times as many books as it is possible for me 
 to Tead, or even dip into, during my stay ; and before I 
 go, it generally happens that I have added a good many 
 to the number; so that when the time for repacking 
 arrives, I find myself much embarrassed for room. 
 This, I already foresee, will be the case on the present 
 occasion, as there have been several novelties, besides 
 those " Romances of the West," which I could not help 
 ordering. 
 
 'But is not your proposal an inchoate breach of 
 faith ? I thought that you were to keep the books until 
 you returned them in person. That is the best service 
 they can now do to me ; coming by themselves, I have 
 no wish to see them. " Frost and Fire " I have not 
 yet seen, even in an advertisement. I am afraid that I 
 do not know as much as I ought of the author, as from 
 his name I should not have been able to gather whether 
 it was a novel or a book on chemistry. Having read 
 Taine's work,^ but not the review of it in the " Edin- 
 burgh," I was excessively surprised by your report of 
 the latter, and looked at it on Saturday. The impres- 
 sion which the work had made on me was not only 
 quite different, but, as to the main point, diametrically 
 the reverse of that which it seems to have left on the 
 1 Hiatoire de la LitUratwn Anglaise. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 33 
 
 reviewer. So entire a freedom from national prejudices 
 in an estimate of our literature I never met with before 
 in a French author. Never before, I believe, did a 
 Frenchman make the admission that the French genius 
 is essentially unpoetical, and that there is no such 
 thing as poetry proper in the language. Taine's mind, 
 no doubt, is not free from bias ; but that which affects 
 his judgment most injuriously is not any national 
 prejudice, but his philosophical theory. The reviewer 
 appears to me to betray an unconsciousness of the 
 truth of many things of which he complains, much 
 more creditable to his patriotism than to his discern- 
 ment. But to charge Taine with any ill-will towards 
 England, any disposition to conceal the good or to 
 bring out the bad side of th'e subject, is positive in- 
 justice and misrepresentation. His standard of good 
 and evil is not ours ; but according to it he seems to 
 me always to judge fairly, and on many points corrects 
 erroneous and unfavorable views of English society 
 which are generally current among his countrymen. 
 The singularly eminefat qualifications which he brought 
 to his work, in extent and accuracy of knowledge and 
 critical tact, the reviewer himself is fain to acknowl- 
 edge. But the whole article seemed to me unworthy 
 both of the book and of the subject. You would 
 probably hardly find leisure to read four such bulky 
 volumes ; but if you were curious about them they will 
 be always at your service. 
 
 ' That Indo-Italian novel must be a curiosity. How 
 many things you hear and know of which otherwise 
 would never reach me ! It is not only of the history of 
 your Enchanters that I am profoundly ignorant, but of 
 almost everything that is going on in civilized society. 
 
 2* 
 
34 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 Never fear lest anything you have to tell should not be 
 new to me.' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, 20 Jmie, 1865. 
 
 ' Finalmente — the prospect of deliverance begins to 
 dawn upon me. A very few days more and I hope to 
 be in the country, but, alas P not before Midsummer 
 Eve, when the days have reached their longest, and all 
 the glory of the spring has passed away, and even all 
 my hayfields have been cleared. To aggravate my 
 regret, the weather has for the last month been so 
 splendid that I can neither expect nor even desire that 
 it should continue much longer, as the country would 
 suffer from drought, as it did last summer. 
 
 ' The moisture of the Green Isle is less easily 
 drained, and I hope you may see its verdure brightened 
 by sunshine. During my stay, however, I have had 
 one afternoon which I really enjoyed, and which has 
 left a deep and pleasant trace in my memory. It was 
 the Friday in Whitsun week, one of the hottest days 
 we have had. Early in the morning the desire to 
 escape out of London came upon me 'with irresistible 
 force, and early in the afternoon, while the heat was 
 most intense, I went to Richmond. 
 
 ' I had not been there for, I believe, more than ten 
 years, and never before in my life had seen what is best 
 worth seeing about it ; having once gone with a party 
 up the river to it, but never having visited the upper 
 regions. Even when I did, it was much more for the 
 sake of the air than of the earth, and without any 
 anticipation of the beauties which were to feast my 
 eye's. I had no conception of the loveliness of the 
 scenes which opened before me as I was rowed slowly 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 35 
 
 up to Teddington Locks. The north bank is entirely 
 occupied with a continuous succession of yillas, each 
 with its green velvet lawn sloping down to the water's 
 edge. The opposite side, being, I suppose, included in 
 the Park, is in the state of nature. Perhaps you will 
 be amused at my taking for granted that all this is new 
 to you ; but since I saw it I have asked several persons 
 whether they had, and have not met with one who 
 knew anything of it but by name ; yet it is not only 
 picturesque, but historical and classical ground. 
 
 ' There are the villas of the French princes, Pope's 
 villa — not indeed in its primitive form, but yet stand- 
 ing — Strawberry Hill, and several other notable though 
 less celebrated retreats, the history and vicissitudes of 
 which were recounted to me by an experienced boat- 
 man. The smaller " boxes," though unknown to fame, 
 in their flowery greenness presented soothing, though 
 possibly illusive, images of domestic happiness ; and I ' 
 recall with special pleasure that of a corpulent elderly 
 gentleman sitting in his chair on his lawn angling for 
 gudgeons, in a channel about a foot broad, which was 
 left between the shore and his boat. There was just 
 stir enough in the air to temper the heat, but not to 
 ruffle the glassy smoothness of the river. I believe the 
 whole picture to be quite unique, and it is certainly 
 perfect in its kind. 
 
 ' My only other recreation of a similar kind has 
 been a weekly visit to the Zoological Gardens, which I 
 repeated chiefly for the sake of your gazelle. I have 
 no doubt that it is the same lovely creature you used 
 to admire ; but it has now a pair of strong horns, very 
 inappropriate to the gentleness of its nature, as well 
 as needless under its present circumstances. That it 
 
36 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 might, tLougli unconsciously, benefit by your recollec- 
 tion of it, I have fed it regularly with buns. It has 
 always been my own favorite, but I would have done 
 the same if it had been a toad, though to do so in the 
 vicinity of Rotten Row certainly required an exertion 
 of moral courage, as well as of kindness, worthy of the 
 Duke of Wellington.^ 
 
 ' There is one painful feature in the present state of 
 suburban vegetation. The thorns have been almost 
 universally devoured ■ by caterpillars, and are mostly as 
 bare as in the depth of winter, while all the neighbor- 
 ing trees are unscathed. I cannot help thinking that 
 
 I saw the luminous moss when I was last at . My 
 
 ears are wide open for the story of your enchanter. 
 But is there any other than Merlyn ? ' 
 
 ' Abergwili Palace, 1 July, 1865. 
 ' - . . . Many thanks for the history of the Wizard. 
 What strikes me most is the extraordinary good luck 
 of the family, as it does not appear that any of its 
 members were burnt, and it survived that danger, with- 
 out losing the credit by which it would once have been 
 exposed to it. It is not indeed quite clear whether 
 
 1 ' In the counti-y, one day, the Duke saw iu the garden a young hoy 
 whom he recognized as helonging to the Gardens, but who was busily 
 engaged in some inscrutable occupation on the groimd. The Duke 
 went closer and looked, but still could not solve the mystery. "M'hat 
 are you about ? " he asked, in his point blank way. " It 's a pet toad I 'ra 
 feeding," answered the boy ; "and they're going to send me to school, 
 and the toad will die," " Never mind, go to school," said the Great Cap- 
 tain ; "I will take care of the toad," and so he did. The boy went to 
 school, and subsequently he received a letter which reported the well- 
 being of the toad, in the well-known autogiuph writing of F. M. the 
 Duke of Wellington. ' — Wellington Anecdotes. 
 
 Another version of this incident relates that it took place in Hyde 
 Park, and that the Duke himself fed the toad. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 37 
 
 its science belonged to the head of magic noire or magic 
 hlanche. ■ The province of the latter, you know, was 
 properly to counteract the former, and it was therefore 
 a source both of gain and honor when the black art was 
 most rigorously prosecuted. There is a delightful chap- 
 ter on the subject in th at most entertaining and instruc- 
 tive of JFrench books, MontejJ's " Histoire des Frangais 
 des divers Etats," which you either know or ought to 
 read. But how many are the books of which the same 
 thing may be said . . . .' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 22 July, 1865. 
 
 ' "... I shall be called away in the course of a 
 week to take part in the proceedings at Tenby, for 
 the Inauguration of the Albert Memorial.^ - . . . The 
 Queen, however, has shown excellent judgment in 
 selecting an Arthur to represent her on this occa- 
 sion ' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 8 Aug., 1865. 
 
 ' .... I left some things unsaid which I had meant 
 to say. I can now only remember one. It is to beg that 
 you will not be in a hurry in deciding on the fate of 
 poor dear Llamrei, on the supposition — so very difficult 
 to verify — that his life has become a burden to him. 
 It must be remembered that though so much less happy 
 than at the outset, it is his only one. 
 
 ' The Tenby Inauguration, as you have no doubt 
 
 heard, went off very successfully I was very 
 
 much pleased with the young Prince, who seemed to 
 
 1 A statue of the Prince Consort, Albert Dda (Albert the Good), was 
 erected on the Castle Grounds at Tenby, Dec. 14, 1864. It was the work 
 of Evan Thomas, assisted by his brother Meredyth Thomas, both now 
 dead. 
 
38 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 me intelligent beyond his years, as well as quite master 
 of his situation, without ceasing to be natural and easy 
 in his deportment. 
 
 ' You must not think me egotistical in having 
 printed a few copies of my little speech, one of which 
 I enclose. But I was told by Sir Charles Phipps that 
 the Queen would be interested by it, and in all the 
 Reports I saw in the Papers it was dreadfully mutilated 
 and disfigured.' 
 
 ' Abbrgwili Palace, 23 Aug., 1865. 
 
 ' You have now, no doubt, all turned yourselves 
 
 round, and settled at , with the delicious feeling of 
 
 being at home again, and I hope with health thoroughly 
 
 to enjoy it I hope you found the dear Llamrei ^ 
 
 not the worse for your journey. His case deserves 
 careful consideration. I think it should be remembered, 
 in the first place, that as to the internal condition of 
 all the lower animals we know absolutely nothing with 
 certainty. So utter is our ignorance, that I have heard 
 my brother of Oxford maintain, with every appearance 
 of earnest conviction, that they are not sensible to 
 pain, only to fear. My own belief is that the truth is 
 just the reverse, viz., that they feel pain just as we do, 
 only without the aggravation of fear. Still, this is 
 only a belief which I am unable to establish otherwise 
 than by questionable analogy. But this ignorance 
 seems to me a strong reason for abstaining from any 
 proceeding grounded on a mere presumption that life 
 has become a burden, unless in cases where, reasoning 
 from analogy and from all visible indications, you feel 
 sure that the creature is suffering intense and incurable 
 
 1 A favorite horse. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 39 
 
 pain, as under vivisection, vrlien no doubt you long to 
 despatcli the patient almost as mucli as to shoot the 
 operator. But I am not at all satisfied from your 
 description that Llamrei does " live wearily," or that, 
 if he had the choice given him between prolongation 
 and termination of his present existence, he would 
 hesitate a moment to decide for length of days. I 
 believe that to the whole animal creation life itself is a 
 source of pleasure. I have no doubt that a cow rumi- 
 nating enjoys herself very much like a man smoking 
 his cigar after dinner. The pleasure is of course in 
 proportion to the state of health and spirits; but an 
 invalid does not cease to enjoy life, and would only be 
 induced to wish for death by acute chronic pain or 
 mental suffering. From the latter Llamrei is happily 
 exempt, and most probably from the former ; and, if 
 so, I cannot think that he is at all impatient to be re- 
 leased from his present condition. I have been honored 
 with the most amiable and obliging of all possible 
 letters from the Queen, in acknowledgment of the cor- 
 rected copy of my speech. If I had been an old friend 
 she could not have written with greater epanchement or 
 in a kinder tone.' ~ 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 2 Sept., 1865. 
 ' I am sorry that I parted with the penultimate in- 
 stalment of your most pleasant diary ^ yesterday, though 
 I am not? sure whether I could have summoned courage 
 to deface its fair pages with specimens of my arcali- 
 graphy. I see that in my journeys over the same 
 ground I had an immense advantage over you, as along 
 the west coast from Galway to Donegal I saw every- 
 thing best worth seeing in the finest weather. From 
 1 A joint journal written for friends. 
 
40 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 Westporfc to Londonderry you seem to have traversed 
 the chord of my arc. Thus I saw more of the coast. 
 On the other hand, you saw Cong, which I remember 
 I gave up with great reluctance, finding that it would 
 cost more time than I could spare. On a former trip I 
 was also signally favored by the weather, so as to have 
 a perfect view of that sublime north-west coast from 
 the sea. 
 
 ' I took boat near Coleraine on a lovely calm morn- 
 ing, the sea like glass, permitting me to enter a mag- 
 nificent cave of, I think, 300 feet in depth, which is 
 only accessible in the most profound calms. We landed 
 at Dunluce and the Causeway, rounded Bengore Head, 
 and gazed on the stupendous cliffs on which a part of 
 the Spanish Armada is said to have been vn-ecked — re- 
 markable also for the singular alternation of black and 
 red layers of rock — and at last stopped to refresh our- 
 selves at Carrick-a-rede, an islet connected with the 
 main by a hanging bridge of two ropes and some planks, 
 and in summer occupied by fishermen. Those who were 
 then there set before us delicious slices of boiled and 
 broiled salmon on plates of peat, which did riot prevent 
 me from finding it the most exquisite repast I had ever 
 enjoyed. But while we were so regaling ourselves a 
 change was passing on the face of the sky and of the sea, 
 and as I lingered the boatmen emphatically admonished 
 me that it was time to think of our return. The wind 
 was rising and the sea roughening every minute. The 
 scene of the wreck, which, when we had passed it 
 before, only presented the image of a great national 
 deliverance, now, with its beach strewed with huge 
 masses of rock, suggested the idea of imminent per- 
 sonal danger. Presently we were in sight of Bengore 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 41 
 
 Head, which in the morning had looked so serene and 
 quiet; it was now wrapped in mist and spray. We 
 were glad to be able to run our boat ashore, and to 
 scramble for four miles over hedge and ditch to Cole- 
 
 raine, where we arrived drenched but thankful 
 
 I was struck by the title of one of the sculptures you 
 saw at Dublin, the work of my friend Edward Davis. 
 I wonder whether it can be the same on which he was 
 at work when I last visited his studio just at the end of 
 May. It was a " Venus and Cupid," and, as it seemed 
 to me, a very original and ingenious composition, repre- 
 senting Cupid with his wings spread, lighting on the 
 maternal shoulders, and gazing on the beautiful face of 
 the goddess, who, I think, does hold him, but otherwise 
 I should have thought " caught flying " an appropriate 
 description of his case. And yet it is curious that 
 Davis should almost simultaneously have produced two 
 groups so very similar in subject ; and if he had begun 
 that which you saw when I was with him, I am quite 
 sure that he would have shown it to me ' 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 14 Oct., 1865. 
 
 ' T am sure that you will not attribute my silence, 
 though, perhaps, longer than you had expected, to any 
 want of sympathy for that peculiarly painful situation 
 which you described in your last. I hope that you are 
 now able at least to bestow your undivided attention on 
 your father, and that he is getting the better of- his 
 insidious and obstinate enemy. 
 
 'I should certainly have written as soon as the 
 Stanleys had taken their leave, if they had not been 
 immediately succeeded by other visitors, who have but 
 just left me a little brief leisure. The Stanleys went 
 
42 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 off last Monday for Scotland, having gone on Friday- 
 evening to Haverfordwest, and on Saturday made the 
 pilgrimage to St. David's, starting at six in the morn- 
 ing and returning between nine and ten at night. They 
 were delighted with everything they saw both here and 
 at St. David's, and we enjoyed one another's company 
 — being all the while en quatre — very much. 
 
 'I find that you heard from John what Stanley 
 said about his semi-Cymric origin. I do not know 
 whether you were also told that he attributed all the 
 energy and vivacity of his character to his Welsh 
 blood. I believe your theory is, that the relation 
 between the two great divisions of mankind, the Celtic 
 and the a-Celtic (if I may coin the word in analogy 
 with a-Catholic), is that of mind to matter; and that 
 whenever the two elements are combined in an indi- 
 vidual, the only use of the grosser is to serve as ballast 
 to moderate the buoyancy of the more spiritual. 
 Though the theory may not have needed confirmation 
 to yourself, you will be able to cite Stanley's spontaneous 
 confession for the conviction of gainsayers. I have had 
 a letter from him since their arrival at Edinburgh, in 
 which he quite incidentally gives another proof how 
 actively the Welsh ichor stirs in his veins. " We 
 slept," he says, " at Builth, and explored what I had 
 often desired to see, the scene of the death of the last 
 Welsh Prince Llewelyn." The only question is whether 
 there is any particle of the Cheshire sol — or stol — idity 
 in his constitution 
 
 ' I have no doubt that you have heard of a Miss 
 Murray, who was once a maid of honor to the Queen, 
 and on account of her mature age was called the 
 Mother of the Maids ; and how she travelled in America, 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 43 
 
 where she fell into the hands of Southerners, who pre- 
 possessed her in favor of their domestic institution, 
 and got her to promise that on her return to England 
 she would publish her sentiments in its favor; and 
 how it was thought that her advocacy of slavery was 
 inconsistent with her position at Court. And so, pre- 
 ferring the redeeming of her pledge to keeping a place 
 which she intensely enjoyed, she magnanimously re- 
 signed — herself much the worse, and the South none 
 the better, for the sacrifice. Well, this was my visitor. 
 Possibly you may have heard what I have just been 
 saying about her, and may even have been in her com- 
 pany, without knowing that she is a daughter of my 
 predecessor, Lord George Murray, since whose time — 
 more than sixty years ago — she had not seen this home 
 of her childhood. She remembered having been put 
 into a coracle when the Tywy flowed in the bed close to 
 the grounds, which it soon afterwards deserted. She 
 had been staying last — as her whole life is spent in 
 visits to her innumerable connections and friends — with 
 Garibaldi's Englishman at his place in Cornwall, and 
 came over in dreadful weather from Ilfracombe. It 
 cannot be denied that she is a very remarkable person. 
 The elastic vigor with which she carries her seventy 
 years is something very rare. She always rises at six, 
 and the day after her arrival she fairly knocked up John, 
 who undertook to show her about the place. She pos- 
 sesses a great variety of pleasing accomplishments — 
 sketches rapidly and well, plays the piano from memory 
 with a free bold touch, cultivates botany to the root, 
 and practises homoeopathy with, as she reports, unfail- 
 ing success. She is also a woman of very original and 
 independent modes of thought, not always, I am afraid, 
 
44 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 consistent with that faultless orthodoxy which one looks 
 for in a bishop's daughter. As the circle of her 
 acquaintance, and even of her family connections, is 
 very large, and she has spent so much of her time in 
 travel, she has an inexhaustible stock of reminiscences 
 and an endless flow of talk. She is even said to have 
 performed the almost incredible feat of keeping Ma- 
 caulay in gasping speechlessness, vainly waiting, like 
 Horace's rustic, for a pause in her fluency. And she 
 is certainly quite capable of defraying the whole ex- 
 pense of conversation for an entire evening with as 
 little dependence on any interlocutors as Coleridge him- 
 self. With my most earnest wishes for your father's 
 recovery.' 
 
 'Abbrgwili Palace, 10 Nov., 1865. 
 ' I am quite startled — not to say shocked — to find, 
 on looking at your last letter, that three weeks have 
 passed since I received it. It seems as if I ought to 
 have written sooner, if it was only for the chance of 
 affording you a momentary distraction when you so 
 much need it. But I am sure that you will not attrib- 
 ute Jjaj silence to indifference ; and in fact the greater 
 part of these last three weeks has been occupied with 
 journeys on official business, and with making up 
 the arrears which always accumulate during my ab- 
 sence from home. But I do not think there has been 
 a day of the whole time in which my thoughts have 
 I not dwelt on your home. Reports also have reached me 
 now and then of the state of your father, sometimes 
 more, sometimes less cheerful. But the general impres- 
 sion left by all has been that you must have been con- 
 tinually suffering the lingering torture of deferred hope 
 and prolonged anxiety But at least, whatever 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 45 
 
 comfort can be derived from the universal sympathy, 
 not only of your friends, but of all who know the object 
 of your anxiety, that is certainly yours in the fullest 
 measure. 
 
 ' When I wrote last I believe Miss Murray had just 
 left me. I have had very satisfactory accounts of her 
 since : . first from ■ a canon of St. David's, to whom I 
 gave her a letter of introduction. It appears that she 
 made the most of her time at St. David's. Nothing 
 could either frighten or tire her. She scaled the Head, 
 and, like yourself at that Irish lake, enjoyed . and 
 sketched the views under her umbrella amidst a pelting 
 rain. Afterwards I received a letter from herself, dated 
 from Margam, expressing the gratification she had re- 
 ceived from all that she saw both at Tenby and St. 
 David's ; and also informing me that she had been 
 preaching, with the aid of her sketch-book, to Mr. 
 Talbot and his son on the duty of contributing to the 
 restoration of the greatest Welsh Cathedral. I have 
 not yet heard the result. People are complaining that 
 sermons are less impressive and efficacious than they 
 used to be. So it may be with Miss M.'s. But yet I 
 wish that we had a few more such missionaries or 
 quSteuses. One of the things which raised her in my 
 esteem was the way in which she spoke of the Queen. 
 Under the circumstances in which she quitted the 
 Court — where she owned she found everything ex- 
 ceedingly pleasant — it would not have been surprising 
 or unnatural if her devotion to the Royal person had 
 been somewhat cooled. But she spoke of the Queen 
 
 with the strongest expressions of regard You 
 
 must excuse me for disobeying your direction, and re- 
 turning Lady D.'s letter. I have a kind of Mussulman 
 
46 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 superstition about destroying papers, though I am 
 sometimes absolutely forced to make a holocaust- to 
 save myself from being smothered. But I could not 
 find it in my heart to commit a letter so full of good- 
 ness, and especially of kindness to you, to the flames.' 
 
 'Abergwiu Palace, UNov., 1865. 
 
 'Your last, so far as it relates to the decided 
 amendment of your father's health, has been a great 
 
 relief to me I, however, look forward with hope 
 
 to your sojourn at Torquay, which I have no doubt is 
 for a certain class of invalids as efficacious as Cannes 
 or Mentone. Am I deceived by esprit de corps if I 
 imagine that the beneficial influence of the place is 
 increased by the example of longevity set at Bishop- 
 stowe?^ At all events, as standing proof of the virtue 
 of the air, it must strengthen its attraction. If it does 
 but restore your father I shall never be weary of cele- 
 brating its praise. 
 
 ' Some of the books which beguiled your prison 
 hours I know, but by no means all. One of these I 
 was induced to get from seeing that it was somehow of 
 sufficient importance to occupy two or three columns 
 in the " Times." But when it came to the reading I 
 was disappointed and disheartened, and found myself 
 obliged to lay it on the shelf half read. I think I was 
 wearied by the appearance of a continual effort at 
 drollery, which was a continual failure, as it always 
 must be, for all true humor is grave, and seemingly 
 unconscious. When your author slaps you on the 
 shoulder, makes faces, and insists upon your laughing 
 at his fun, you — or at least I for my part — resist, and 
 1 In allusion to the great age of Bishop Philpotts. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 47 
 
 find myself more inclined to yawn than to smile 
 
 I believe that there is a rather numerous tribe of 
 writers in this style ; and, if I am not mistaken, 
 Dickens has a great deal to answer for about them. 
 His own manner requires all his extraordinary talent 
 to make it endurable. " Teneriffe " I have neither met 
 with nor otherwise heard of ; nor have I seen either of 
 your two novels. Alas ! what an irreparable loss have 
 all intelligent novel-readers suffered in Mrs. Gaskell. 
 I am trembling lest she should have left her last novel, 
 " Wives and Daughters," which she has been writing 
 for the " Cornhill," unfinished. I did not know who 
 was the author until I saw the report of her death ; 
 but it appeared to me one of the most delightful 
 specimens of the still-life novels that I have ever read. 
 
 Jean Ingelow is also one of my special favorites 
 
 I do not know whether I was quite so much interested 
 by Lyell's work as by Lubbock's " Prehistoric Times ; " 
 but I do not think Lyell has left much room for doubt 
 as to his opinions on any point on which he must be 
 supposed to have made up his mind, nor did his book 
 acquaint me with any as to the main question which 
 I had not previously heard from himself in conversa- 
 tion. Forty years ago I used to read La Motte Fouqu^'s 
 stories with pleasure ; but they belong to a period of 
 unnatural excitement, and are not, I think, a good 
 sample of German literature. I have not read " Men- 
 delssohn's Letters," though I have seen the translation. 
 The better letters are, the more they are likely to 
 lose in a foreign language ; as what would be left of 
 -" Madame de S6vign^ " in an English dress ? But 
 would it not be better to learn German once for all, 
 than to be constantly regretting that you did not do 
 
48 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 SO years ago? It would not cost you more than six 
 months if you worked steadily, or a year if you took it 
 easily. 
 
 ' My own English reading of late has been a good 
 deal of the epistolary kind. I am making my way 
 through poor Lady Theresa Lewis's last editorial labor, 
 the " Journal and Letters of Miss Berry," and find it 
 very interesting. It reflects the image of the political 
 and social- changes that have passed on this country 
 during about seventy of the most stirring years of its 
 history, as viewed from the midst of the best society 
 by a very intelligent observer. The first volume, which 
 alone I have finished, is enriched with a long series of 
 unpublished letters of Horace Walpole, exhibiting the 
 usual merits of his style, and placing his character in 
 a more favorable point of view than most of his other 
 correspondence. Macaulay's judgment on him is cer- 
 tainly too severe, and less fair than that of Charles de 
 R^musat in his " Essays on English History," though 
 it can hardly be denied that he was something of a cox- 
 comb even in his best moments. 
 
 ' I have also been again enjoying the society of 
 Miss Murray, and in the most agreeable way, without 
 any danger of weariness. In short, I have got her 
 " Letters from America." .... They are in two small 
 volumes, of which I have now read one. She went out 
 in 1854 and came back in 1855. The entertainment 
 of the reading is of course very much heightened by 
 personal recollections ; but independently of them the 
 little book conveys a great deal of interesting informa- 
 tion in a very pleasant form. She goes through the 
 length of the land, as may be ' supposed, constantly 
 botanizing and sketching. The umbrella occupies a 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 49 
 
 prominent place in her narrative. On one occasion it 
 was held over her in a pelting rain by no less a person 
 than Longfellow. She might well feel, as she professes 
 to have done, some remorse for having endangered the 
 life of America's great poet for the sake of an addition 
 to her sketch-book. But at the same time she kept 
 her eyes always open for everything best worth seeing 
 in society as well as in nature, and her view is that 
 of a clear-headed and perfectly independent observer. 
 She had the best introductions, travelling almost as in 
 England, from one friend's house to another, and saw a 
 good many historical persons. I was of course curious 
 about the obnoxious opinions. I think they come out 
 pretty fully in the first volume, which brings her as 
 far south as Charleston. Perhaps they may be still 
 further developed in the second ; but I think I under- 
 stand them already well enough. As long as she re- 
 mains in the North she is only opposed to the precipitate 
 measures of the Abolitionists and to the suppression of 
 the slave trade, which, by limiting the number, appeared 
 to her to have deteriorated the condition of the slaves. 
 As she moves South she finds herself more and more 
 prepossessed in favor of the white population, in com- 
 parison with the manners and habits of the Yankees ; 
 and the more she sees of the " Darkies " the more she 
 is convinced that they are incapable of civilization, and 
 that, if their labor is to be made really useful, it must 
 be compulsory. It is the masters, not the slaves, whom 
 she considers as truly worthy of pity. She does not 
 believe in " Uncle Tom," and, if she did, it would not 
 dispose her to abolition. In Topsy she finds a copy 
 from nature. It is no small evidence of her sagacity 
 that in 1854 she distinctly foresaw the outbreak of a 
 
 3 
 
50 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 civil war The insurrection in Jamaica will no 
 
 doubt appear to her strongly to confirm her conclusions. 
 It is indeed sad to see how hard, if not hopeless, it is 
 to reclaim the savage nature so as safely to trust it to 
 itself. 
 
 ' How quietly you drop into your postscript a few 
 words raising some of the most difficult questions in 
 theology and moral philosophy. I must condense my 
 answers as far as is consistent with perspicuity. I 
 agree with your unnamed friend as to the influence of 
 (practical) mistakes on every one's present life, and 
 have always believed that the future state will be 
 .affected by (most divines would say it entirely depends 
 upon) the character formed in the present. This might 
 well be after the cause had been forgotten; but I do 
 not understand how memory can cease without the loss 
 of personal identity. We look forward to a new life, 
 but of the same person, not of one with whom we have 
 no common consciousness. 
 
 ' In your queries about the effect of repentance and 
 forgiveness of sins, you seem to me to have overlooked 
 an ambiguity in the words " sin " and " repentance," 
 which is such that an answer which would be true in 
 one sense would be wrong in another. Have you con- 
 sidered the infinite difference between sin as a particular 
 act, and sin as a state or habit, of which the sin is a 
 mere sign or effect ? And then what can it avail if the 
 sin should be forgiven, blotted out, annihilated, and 
 forgotten, so long as sin — the cause, the root, the 
 fountain — remains ? Suppose two friends really loving 
 one another, but liable now and then to quarrel. They 
 may easily forgive and forget the occasional offence, 
 because their habitual disposition is one of mutual 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 51 
 
 good-will ; tut should the case be the reverse — hatred 
 stifled, but occasionally venting itself by unfriendly acts 
 — how little would it matter though they should forget 
 the particular offence if the enmity should remain at 
 the ground of the heart. 
 
 ' Then as to repentance. It is often used — and I 
 think you take it — for the compunction with which one 
 may reflect on a particular sin. Whether such com- 
 punction procures the forgiveness of the sin, seems to 
 me a question which it is rather too bold to ask, but 
 which is quite unimportant to have answered, unless 
 forgiveness of sins was the same thing as forgiveness of 
 sin. We have seen what entirely different things they 
 are ; and there is an equal and exactly corresponding 
 difference between repentance in the sense just men- 
 tioned, and in that signified by the word which in the 
 New Testament expresses the condition to which for- 
 giveness of sin is attached. The Greek word denotes a 
 change of mind, heart, or disposition, which is equiva- 
 lent to the cessation of sin as a habit or state. Sin 
 may be repented of without any such annihilation of 
 sin. And without such annihilation I venture to doubt 
 whether God Himself could forgive sin, any more than 
 He could make two contrary propositions identical, or 
 the same thing to be and not to be at the same 
 time. 
 
 ' That I hope will suffice for the present. 
 
 'I suppose you will wait until this tempestuous 
 weather ceases before you set out for Torquay. When 
 I visited it in 1859 the railway was broken up between 
 Exeter and Torquay by a similar storm, and the pas- 
 sengers had to cross the country in coaches. It has 
 tried my trees, tearing up an elm which was unsound 
 
52 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 at the root, and which in its fall crushed another that 
 might else have had a long life. I hope it is only a 
 preparation for your enjoyment of the finest weather 
 you could wish during your stay.' 
 
 'Abbegwili Palace, 19 Dec, 1865. 
 
 'It is not only natural, but perfectly right and 
 proper, that you should dwell on the meteorology of 
 Torquay. In a watering-place for invalids the topic of 
 weather can never become commonplace or uninterest- 
 ing. For the greater part of the visitors the state of 
 the weather is a vital concern. A fine day means not 
 merely the pleasure of out-of-doors exercise and amuse- 
 ment, but so much gained for the alleviation of suffer- 
 ing, the restoration of health and strength. We have 
 had here a rather curious meteorological phenomenon, 
 which was noticed by somebody in the " Times." A 
 few days ago the barometer was at Set Fair. This 
 unusual weight of the atmosphere was believed by the 
 person who noticed it in the paper to indicate frost ; 
 but none has yet come, and the mercury is now at 
 Fair. The odd thing is, that while during the whole 
 interval the weather has been mild, the sun has not 
 once pierced through the blanket of clouds which has 
 been happily spread over us ; and while the glass was 
 at Set Fair there was a slight fall of rain. I confess 
 to a personal dread of frost, besides sympathy with the 
 tens of thousands whose sufferings it so dreadfully 
 aggravates. But it is time to come down from the 
 clouds. 
 
 'I have read that "Armadale," drawn on by curi- 
 osity to see how such a very complicated skein is to 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 53 
 
 be unravelled, but with very little enjoyment. Miss 
 Gwilt is a tragic Becky Sharps, but immensely below 
 her prototype. On the whole, I consider this class of 
 novels as an unhappy invention, creating an insatiable 
 demand which must be met by less and less wholesome 
 food, and absorbing a great deal of ability which might 
 be much better employed. A new writer has made his 
 appearance in " Macmillan " with a story called " Cra- 
 dock Nowell," ^ which is really remarkable, if not for 
 the composition of the framework, of which it is too 
 early to judge, certainly for the power of description, 
 which is of very rare quality, and a command over the 
 resources of the language perhaps still more uncommon. 
 There is a little spice of sensation in it,, but not enough 
 to give a twang to any source of legitimate enjoyment. 
 I am in the third volume of the " Berryana," and find 
 the interest rather grow than decline. If it is sustained 
 to the end, I shall be almost sorry when all is over, 
 though three such thick volumes make a little hole in 
 one's leisure hour. I think when I wrote last I had 
 only finished my Miss Murray's first volume. The 
 second was still stronger on the subject of slavery, and 
 likely in every way to give still greater offence to the 
 friends of the negro, whom she denounces as his worst 
 enemies. The slave trade she regards as the great 
 instrument appointed by Providence for the civilization 
 and evangelization of Africa. You can easily conceive 
 with what a frenzy of indignation and abhorrence such 
 
 doctrines would be received at Exeter Hall 
 
 Without at all sharing Miss Murray's view of the slave 
 trade or of the domestic "institution," I must own my- 
 self to be very much .of her opinion as to the capacity 
 1 By K. D. Blackinore. 
 
54 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 t 
 
 of the negro, and do not believe that he will, or ever 
 can be, raised to an equality with the whites. 
 
 'I believe that our experience in the West Indies 
 will be found to confirm that opinion. Otherwise the 
 insurrection was, no doubt, a very deplorable event in 
 itself and in its consequences. It is a misfortune that 
 opinions should be so evenly balanced as they are on a 
 question which excites so much angry feeling. I have 
 no doubt that the truth lies somewhere between those 
 who take part with and against Governor Eyre. It 
 seems pretty certain that excesses were committed in 
 putting down the negro insurrection as in quelling the 
 Sepoy Mutiny. But how far the Governor is answer- 
 able for them is anpther matter. I am inclined to be- 
 lieve the best of a man who was capable of such an 
 almost superhuman achievement as his Australian ex- 
 ploration, and feel sure that if he erred in the measures 
 taken for suppressing the insurrection it was not for 
 want of humanity. But whatever may have been his 
 fault, his misfortune has evidently been, not that he 
 authorized the shooting of so many negroes, but that 
 he provoked the hostility of a powerful denomination, 
 which could enlist on its side the whole Dissenting 
 interest, and could force the hand of the Govern- 
 ment. There is something almost irresistibly ludicrous 
 in the arrival of those two Colonels, who, after receiv- 
 ing the highest honors in Jamaica for their conduct 
 in the insurrection, land at Southampton, flushed with 
 the consciousness of merit, and looking for a similar 
 acknowledgment of it here — to find that the great 
 question which divides opinion in England is whether 
 they do or do not deserve the gallows, and that they 
 are to go back immediately to be put upon their trial. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 55 
 
 The Ministry, I should think, would not wish Sir 
 Henry Storks to be in any hurry with his Report. If 
 the Commission sit until the heat of party spirit is 
 cooled, they will have done more good than is to be 
 expected from any other result of their inquiry. Pray 
 assure me that your father is rapidly gaining strength. 
 With a thousand thanks and returns for your kind 
 wishes.' 
 
56 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 1866. 
 
 'Abergwiu Palace, 5 Jan., 1866. 
 
 ' Your last has afforded me very great pleasure 
 
 I rejoice that your father is able to resume his functions 
 at the Quarter Sessions, and hope that he wijl not suffer 
 for his virtue. But I am not surprised at your un- 
 easiness in this shifting weather I am also very- 
 glad that you have fallen in with Mrs. Bayne. She is 
 a very warm-hearted as well as intellectual person, a 
 cousin of Thackeray, and with a good deal of his humor 
 in her. I also hope that you will see and like her 
 daughter, who is all goodness — good heart, good sense, 
 and thoroughly true and trustworthy. From the sight 
 of her you would hardly guess that she made quite a 
 furore in London, by her performance in some private 
 theatricals which poor Thackeray gave for the house- 
 warming of his villa at Kensington. 
 
 ' I have now finished the "Berryana," and with some 
 regret, for the interest rather grew as the journal came 
 down to my own time. There are several points in 
 Miss Berry's character with which you will sympathize. 
 When one considers her prodigious success and uni- 
 versal popularity, one is led to consider with some curi- 
 osity to what cause it was due. And it is instructive to 
 find — as is evident from her letters, and is expressly 
 remarked by Lady Theresa — that there was nothing 
 brilliant or salient in her conversation, though she was 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 57 
 
 certainly above the average standard of intellect, and 
 capable of studies wbich to most women appear severe 
 and repulsive. This, however, was clearly not what 
 constituted the peculiar 'charm of her society. It seems 
 to have consisted in a singular felicity of manners, at 
 once highly polished and perfectly easy and unaffected, 
 by which she made all who approached her pleased first 
 with themselves, and then — the inevitable consequence 
 — with her. I remember with regret that about two or 
 three and twenty years ago I was taken by Monckton 
 Milnes into her house in Curzon Street, and introduced 
 to her. Unhappily I did not then know anything about 
 her, except that she was a contemporary and a sort of 
 flame of Horace Walpole. If I could only have read 
 her first two volumes beforehand ! How much I should 
 have noted that is now forever lost to me ! I retain 
 nothing but a faint recollection of two old ladies sitting 
 at a table in a crowded room. 
 
 ' The " Life of Robertson " is out of print, and I am 
 waiting for the second edition, though without any very 
 painful impatience, for my last parcel of new books will 
 keep hfie abundantly supplied for a good while to come. 
 I have certainly neither mind nor right to quarrel with 
 your admiration for his " Sermons " on the score of 
 orthodoxy. I was introduced to him by my friend 
 Archdeacon Hare, than whom I have no ambition to be 
 more orthodox, and who was his warm friend and 
 admirer. Then he is strongly recommended to me by 
 the hostility of the " Record," which I consider is a 
 proof of some excellence in every one who is its object. 
 He was certainly not orthodox after the " Record " 
 standard, but might very well be so after another. 
 For our Church has the advantage — such I deem it — 
 
 3* 
 
58 , BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 of more than one type of orthodoxy : that of the High 
 Church, grounded on one aspect of its formularies ; 
 that of the Low Church, grounded on another aspect ; 
 and that of the Broad Church, striving to take in 
 both, but in its own way. Each has a right to a 
 standing-place ; none to exclusive possession of the field. 
 Of course this is very unsatisfactory to the bigots of 
 each party — at the two extremes. Some would be 
 glad to cast the others out ; and some yearn after a 
 Living Source of Orthodoxy, of course on the condition 
 that it sanctions their own views. To have escaped 
 that worst of all evils ought, I think, to console every 
 rational Churchman for whatever he finds amiss at 
 home. Robertson's "Sermons " have the merit of being 
 very thoughtful and suggestive, but appear to me, both 
 as to form and substance, to have been given to the 
 world too much in the state of raw material. Perhaps 
 you see more of the process of thought, which is no 
 doubt interesting, but you miss the finished results. 
 .... I have just begun another book, which I am sure 
 you will enjoy very niuch : " Le Grand MystSre de 
 J^sus Passion et Resurrection, Drame Breton du Moyen 
 Age, avec une ^tude sur le theatre chez les nations Cel- 
 tiques, par le Vicomte de la Villemarqud." The intro- 
 ductory iltude is exceedingly interesting. The drama 
 is given in a French translation as close as the idiom 
 of the language will permit, with the Breton text at the 
 bottom of the page. I hope that when you return home 
 I may have the pleasure of making you better acquainted 
 with it. I think I heard a rumor some time ago about 
 an occupation of Llantony Abbey, meditated by Father 
 Ignatius. But if* the Roman Catholics think it worth 
 their while, they will, no doubt, easily get the start 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 59 
 
 of him. From ■what I remember of the situation, I am 
 surprised that either he or they should covet it. It is 
 excellently fitted for monastic seclusion, but I should 
 have imagined altogether unsuited to the purposes of 
 proselytism. And though for these, 30,000/. might be a 
 trifle to the Romish Propaganda, it would be more than 
 I should expect them to be willing to lay out on a mere 
 luxury of piety. That Father Ignatius is a curious 
 phenomenon : his idea of making himself a Benedictine 
 is so delightful that it makes one hope that one of these 
 
 days he will create himself a cardinal 
 
 ' I mourn deeply over the loss of Mrs. Gaskell. To 
 " Wives and Daughters " it is irreparable. I am not 
 in the least comforted by anything that the editor of 
 the " Cornhill " has said. The few things which he 
 has disclosed as to the sequel of the story, if indeed it 
 is anything more than a guess, instead of allaying, excite 
 one's curiosity. There was matter left for another 
 volume. I return the anecdote of Sir C. Napier, with 
 many thanks. The melting of the soldier under the 
 touch of a purely human feeling is always beautiful.' ^ 
 
 'Abekgwili Palaok, 26 Jan., 1866. 
 
 ' In one respect we have certainly reason to trust 
 
 that the worst of the winter is past, for a much longer 
 
 continuance of stormy weather would be something I 
 
 suppose almost unexampled. But, if we are to have 
 
 1 Extract from a letter of Mr. Maunsell : — 
 
 ' In walking through the pleasure-ground at Oakley Park, Celbridge, 
 we showed him the tree which is called Miss Emily's Oak. " Ah," he 
 said, " we all planted oaks the same day, hut she only attended to hers, 
 and we boys, as usual, neglected ours, and hers alone survives ; ' and he 
 then put. his arms round it, and embraced it, and kissed it, and we saw 
 the tears spring into his eyes. Miss Emily was his sister, and at the time 
 was married to Sir C. Bunbury. ' 
 
60 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 no harder weather on shore, this will — here at least — 
 have been one of the mildest winters ever known, and 
 I hardly venture to flatter myself with the hope that 
 we are to see no more frost and snow. When you 
 return to you will find it carpeted with snow- 
 drops, violets, and cowslips. I do not at all wonder 
 that you should easily persuade yourself that home is 
 the best place for you at this season. I can judge of 
 the pleasure you must feel at the thought of returning 
 to yours, by the repugnance with which I look forward 
 to leaving mine, as I am obliged to do in the middle of 
 next week, though only for a fortnight. The longer 
 I have been settled the more I dread a change of place, 
 especially as it involves a most disagreeable process of 
 preparation, and futile attempts to introduce a little 
 order into the book-chaos which is my natural, or at 
 least most congenial, element. Then the journey is a 
 most grievous interruption of all rational pursuits, and 
 a cruel consumption of precious time. Here I am 
 generally reading and consulting some two or three 
 dozen of books simultaneously. I cannot well take them 
 all with me, and, if I could, I should hardly be able to 
 make any use of them in London, where there is always 
 
 some other subject to demand my attention The 
 
 death of Mrs. Newton ^ is very sad, but unhappily raises 
 no new difficulty as to the course of Providence. The 
 
 ^ ' The short muster-roll of English female artists has lost a name 
 of high distinction and still higher promise in Mrs. Charles Newton, who 
 died prematurely at thirty-three of brain fever, following on measles, 
 just after the dawn of the new year. Mrs. Newton came of a family of 
 artists. Her father, Mr. Severn, our present Consul at Rome, is known 
 hoth by his pictures in oil and fresco, and as the friend of Keats, whose 
 deathbed he soothed by his devoted cai'e.' — Times article, Jan. 23, 1866, 
 by Mr. Tom Taylor. 
 
LETTEES TO A FRIEND. 61 
 
 ancients considered it almost as a divine law that the 
 most gifted and promising were carried away earliest. 
 A friend tried to console Cicero for the loss of his 
 daughter by reminding him of the once great and 
 flourishing cities which had fallen to ruin. That sounds 
 to us as rather cold comfort. But a catastrophe like 
 that of the London, or even the Brixham fleet, must 
 silence all questionings about an individual loss, in 
 the deeper mystery of such a termination to so many 
 lives, each of which had a more or less hopeful career 
 
 before it The most entertaining part of the first 
 
 volume of "Berryana" consists of Horace Walpole's 
 letters ; afterwards the chief interest lies in the journal, 
 which is a diorama of the history of half a century. 
 I doubt very much whether I should enjoy Miss B.'s 
 works. Her taste in literature was that of the last 
 century, as embodied in Walpole. He himself believed, 
 and made her believe, that Darwin was in the first rank 
 of poets. Your last novels are all unknown to me, except 
 the " Feats on a Fiord," which is one of my old and 
 great favorites : among Miss Martineau's stories with- 
 out a rival. She possesses very remarkable talents for 
 fiction ; but her stories are almost all spoilt by the 
 protrusion 6f a didactic vein, and the disclosure of a 
 practical design which she has upon the reader, who, if 
 his own object was simply to be amused, hates the lesson, 
 and is indignant at having been entrapped into school. 
 The Norwegian tale is one of the rare exceptions. At 
 least, I am not aware that it is made to insinuate any 
 doctrine of political economy, for which the only appro- 
 priate poetical form is that of Mrs. Marcet's " Dialogues," 
 which never deceive or disappoint anybody. 
 
 ' I was aware of the Spanish profuseness of verbal 
 
62 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 liberality. It has been generally considered as simply 
 a trait of the national character, and is no doubt con- 
 nected with the chivalrous spirit which breathes in the 
 old Spanish romances ; but I am inclined to think that 
 it may have been partly of Eastern origin, as it is quite 
 in accordance with the lavishness of Eastern hospitality 
 and munificence. We read that the Caliph Mamoun 
 was an ideal of this character. Once, when his treasury 
 had been completely exhausted by his largesses, he heard 
 that a large sum was on its way to him, the tribute of 
 one of his provinces, and immediately set out with his 
 son to take possession of the welcome supply. On their 
 way home he said to his son, " If our friends were to go 
 back empty-handed and disappointed, and we to take 
 all this money with us, we should pass for sordid churls." 
 So he distributed part among his courtiers, and the rest 
 among his soldiers. But, perhaps, the most characteristic 
 story is one related by one of his friends, the historian 
 Wakedi, of himself. W.-had two friends: they were 
 all three as one soul. Once, when he was reduced to 
 the extreme of destitution, being implored by his wife 
 to provide her with the means of dressing their children 
 decently, being also in expectation of having to entertain 
 visitors, he wrote to one of the three (say H.), stating 
 his wants and asking for help. H. immediately sent a 
 purse sealed, with 1,000 direms in it. But before W. 
 had broken the seal he receives a letter from his other 
 friend (say C), complaining of distress. W. forthwith 
 delivers the purse to O.'s messenger. The next day, 
 who should call on him but H., with the identical purse 
 in his hand, and begging W. to say what he had done 
 with it. W. informed him, adding that, after he had 
 sent the purse to C, he spent the night in the temple 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 63 
 
 in prayer, fearing to face his wife, but on going home 
 found her quite satisfied with the use he had made of 
 the money. It was then the turn of H. to explain that, 
 when he received W.'s letter, he had nothing in the 
 world but that purse, and, having sent it to W., wrote 
 to C for money, when the purse was brought to him 
 by his messenger. The state of the case being then 
 clear, it was agreed that 100 direms should be set apart 
 for clothing W.'s children, and the rest equally divided 
 among the three friends. When the story came to the 
 ears of Mamoun, he of course ordered 100,000 direms to 
 be distributed in like proportion among the three. 
 
 ' Perhaps there was a time when the Spaniards came 
 nearer to the Moors in this respect. I do not know 
 that there is any book professing to be a collection of 
 legends relating to Scripture history, but a great many 
 are to be found in Herbelot's " Bibliothdque Orientale," 
 chiefly drawn from the commentators on the Koran. 
 There you find a great many things about Abraham 
 on which the Bible preserves a profound silence, parr 
 ticularly the steps by which he arrived at the conviction 
 of the unity of God, and the courageous testimony which 
 he bore to this truth at the idolatrous court of Nimrod, 
 by whom he was thrown into a fiery furnace, from which 
 he came out unscathed. But let me give you a different 
 sample, which represents Abraham according to the 
 Eastern ideal of beneficence. He was in the habit of 
 feeding the poor, as their "father," like Job, from his 
 well-stored granary. But in a year of famine his stock 
 was exhausted, and he sent his servants with camels to 
 a friend in Egypt to purchase a fresh supply of corn. 
 Egypt had none to spare, and as Abraham wanted it, 
 not for his own household, but only for the poor, his 
 
64 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 friend refused to part with any. So his people were 
 fain to return with empty sacks. But fearing that the 
 sight of these would expose them to ridicule, they filled 
 the sacks with fine sand. On their arrival they whis- 
 pered the sad truth to their master, who went into his 
 oratory to pray. Sarah happened to be asleep ; but 
 when she awoke and saw the sacks, she immediately 
 opened one, and took out — not sand, but flour, with 
 which she began making and baking cakes for the poor. 
 The grateful odor met the patriarch as he came in 
 from his prayers, and he eagerly inquired where she 
 had found meal. "It is that," she replied, "which 
 your friend has sent you from Egypt." " Say, rather," 
 said Abraham, " that sent by the true friend, which is 
 God." So Abraham was called the friend of God.' 
 
 ' Abbbgwili Palace, 19 Feb., 1866. 
 ' .... A great book has lately come out under the 
 title of "Ecce Homo," which has created quite a sen- 
 sation in London in the circles which take an interest 
 in religious philosophy, and everybody wants to know 
 the author, who conceals his name. Even Lord Hough- 
 ton was baffled in his attempts to penetrate the mystery. 
 It is very original, suggestive, and, in the best sense, 
 edifying, though theologians are in doubt about the 
 orthodoxy, which, as the work is unfinished, is not 
 patent, though possible. At all events I read it with 
 the deepest interest and pleasure. I also found Stan- 
 ley's second volume on the " Jewish Church " even 
 more delightful than the first ' 
 
 ' Abrrbwili Palace, 3 March, 1866. 
 ' It is a pleasure to me to think that this will come 
 to your hands on its arrival at your home. I do not 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 65 
 
 wonder that Torquay grew cold after your departure. 
 
 I feel sure that has been warmed by your return. 
 
 As an example of the difference which is made in a 
 place by your presence or absence, I may remind you of 
 the joyous celebration of St. David's Day at the College, 
 when you graced it with your presence and cheered it 
 with your voice. My nephew was there at the last 
 festival, and the contrast seems to have been most 
 striking. As you were not to be there, the College 
 Board had resolved that there should be no speeches. 
 Each of the guests talked sotto voce with his neighbor, 
 and my nephew does not remember to have ever before 
 passed so tedious, cold, and dreary an evening. I am 
 
 much obliged to you for M. Martin's letter 
 
 The contents are, in part, of European interest. Every 
 lover of literature must wish that he had done with 
 his pamphlet on Russia. Whether I read it or not I 
 shall be glad when it appears, as the precursor of his 
 abridged " Hietoire de France," which I have no doubt 
 will be a very pleasant and useful book. The great 
 history — in sixteen volumes of between 600 and 700 
 closely printed pages'each — is not at all too long, but 
 requires more time for a complete perusal than I have 
 hitherto been able to spare; for, unluckily, I did not 
 order it until it was more than half finished, and so 
 could not devour the volumes as they came out, which 
 enabled me to read through Thiers, who is quite as 
 long, with the greatest ease just as if it had 'been a 
 feuilleton. I am not sure that I could have done it if 
 I had waited for the appearance of Vol. XX.^ .... 
 
 1 'Abbkgwim Palace, 19 Dec., 1866. 
 
 ' .... I wiU try to arrange a little bouquet — not of louqiKtins, 
 but of samples for your approval — by the beginning of the new year. 
 
66 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 As to Mr. Savage, I have the advantage over you, inas- 
 much as I possess the " Bachelor of the Albany " and 
 " The Falcon Family," and found them very sprightly 
 and entertaining ; but I never saw or heard of " My 
 Uncle the Curate," and must look out for it on my next 
 railway journey. We seem to be nearing land in 
 " Armadale." Is it not marvellous that anybody could 
 have conceived it possible for Miss Gwilt to write such 
 a journal ? It is a comfort to think that she cannot 
 go on much longer, and that almost the only doubt 
 remaining is whether she is to poison or drown herself. 
 In the same number of the " Cornhill " you will not 
 ovetlook Matthew Arnold's paper on " Celtic Litera- 
 ture." You will admit it to be very clever — as every- 
 thing he writes — and will only lament that it is not 
 quite orthodox, but, perhaps, will condone his errors in 
 consideration of his good intentions, and of his promise 
 to make some amends in the second article. I over- 
 looked the employment which still separates M. Martin 
 from more congenial studies. Bunsen's work certainly 
 deserves his labor upon it, though it is not one which 
 I should have expected to interest him so much.^ The 
 translation will introduce it to many readers in England 
 
 H. Martin's volumes are, as you will see, each a pUce de risistance, and 
 there are many of them. I' think of beginning with one of the earlier, 
 which contains some things relating to Celtic literature, which wUl he 
 specially interesting to you, and which you certainly will not find in 
 Lacretelle., I think his book is at present the best history of France 
 
 down to the Revolution ' 
 
 1 'J'ai appris aveo beaucoup de regrets la mort de Mademoiselle 
 Mathilde de Bunsen, que j'avais vue autrefois h, Cannes, en Provence. 
 Dans quelques mois, je publierai nn monument k la mi^moire de son pfere, 
 une traduction abr^gde du grand ouvrage de Monsieur de Bunsen, Gott 
 in dar Geschichte, faite par un professeur allcmand (M. Dietz) et remaniee 
 par moi.' Letter of M. Henri Martin to a friend, 1867. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 67 
 
 as well as France, whose minds will be enriched with 
 many new ideas. I have just received the new edition 
 of Robertson's " Life and Letters," two very substan- 
 tial volumes, but I hope the reading may prove light. 
 There is an article upon it in the " Contemporary Re- 
 view," which leads me to expect more pleasure from the 
 Letters than from the Life ' 
 
 ' Abbegwili Palace, 20 March, 1866. 
 
 'First of all, beginning with the solemnity due to 
 the occasion, let me congratulate you and your home, 
 you on your home and your home on you, and both that 
 you are again at one. I should have been glad if I had 
 been able to say, without a figure, that you have brought 
 spring with you ; but it is enough for the present to 
 have brought what is better than spring, and until 
 there is something much nearer to the prosaic reality, 
 I would advise you to divide your time between your 
 fireside and your conservatory. I make it a rule never 
 to pledge my vote to a candidate for a Charity before I 
 have inspected the polling paper. It seems to me that 
 the vote ought to be given not to merely positive, but 
 to relative merit or need, and that it is a wrong to all 
 the other candidates to set their claims aside without 
 inquiry or comparison for the sake of one who may turn 
 out to be not the most deserving object. I wish that 
 everybody acted on the same principle, which would 
 put an end to the wasteful and annoying system of 
 canvassing. The best plan, I believe, would be that 
 the election should be entrusted to a select committee. 
 But perhaps most people subscribe to charitable insti- 
 tutions for the very purpose of obliging their friends by 
 their votes 
 
68 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ' I wait, curious, thougli not impatient, for the copy 
 of the " Sligo Cross." You give me more credit for 
 memory, as for other things, than I deserve. I proba- 
 bly saw the original, but not a trace of it remains in 
 my mind. All my recollections of Sligo are confined 
 to its beautiful lakes, which I can never forget. I can- 
 not conceive what use you can make of a better pen 
 than you have hitherto written with ; but ever since I 
 went up to college I have used Bramah's, and find that 
 they combine all the qualities you describe better than 
 any T have yet tried. No doubt they partake of the 
 liability to decay common to all things earthly, but they 
 hold out longer than any others of their kind. If you 
 already, know them, I can only repeat that of all per- 
 sons of my acquaintance you have least need of a choice 
 pen for any purpose but your own comfort : for penman- 
 ship you might challenge any correspondent with a 
 skewer. I must now acknowledge a debt which I owe 
 you, but of which you would not otherwise be aware. 
 It was from you that I heard of Robertson's " Life and 
 Letters," and but for the way in which you spoke of 
 them I believe I should not have thought of ordering 
 them, for I had been rather disappointed by the " Ser- 
 mons " which I had happened to open. They gave me 
 the idea of something crude and unfinished, which 
 rather repelled me. And then I knew nothing what- 
 ever of the man. Only conceive that when I was 
 introduced to him by Archdeacon Hare I fancied that 
 he was a Dissenting minister. But the " Letters " are 
 among the most interesting I have ever read, and the 
 insight which they open into so fine and powerful a 
 mind and so noble a character is what no sermon could 
 give. That which I felt as an imperfection in the form 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 69 
 
 of the " Sermons " — a necessary consequence of the way 
 in which they were dictated from memory — is just what 
 gives the highest charm, of perfect freedom and natural 
 effusion, to the "Letters'." How different a kind of 
 interest is that with which one reads them from that of 
 Miss Berry's Journal. In this the events of the day 
 pass before you with the impression which they made 
 on a certain circle of society; but there is an almost 
 total absence of any purely intellectual, much more of 
 any moral or spiritual, subject of interest. In the 
 "Letters " hardly any really important question of such 
 a nature which agitated the public mind escapes notice 
 
 and discussion It is altogether a melancholy and 
 
 really tragic history ; for one cannot help seeing that 
 the very same elements in his constitution, mental and 
 physical, which gave his mind its peculiar strength, and 
 his character its peculiar energy, also created the moodi- 
 ness which embittered, darkened, and shortened his life. 
 The sphere in which he moved was really one in which 
 he was at least as useful, and might have been as happy, 
 as in any other, if he could only have seen it in its true 
 light. I must close for the post, but will add a post- 
 script to-morrow.' 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 21 March, 1866. 
 ' . . . . Do you know the Erckmann-Chatrian story- 
 books — " Le Conscrit," " Waterloo," and others ? If 
 not, you ought. I have several, one of which I am 
 reading, and another is still to be read. Erckmann- 
 Chatrian is a pa;ir of single-bodied Alsatian twins. 
 How they contrive to tell the same story, I cannot 
 guess. But the result is something quite new and per- 
 fect in its kind ' 
 
70 BISHOP THIKLWALL'S 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 29 March, 1866. 
 
 'I must first, as bound by promise, address myself 
 to your first letter of the two unanswered ones now 
 before me, and, indeed, I do not think I can give any 
 definite answer to the second immediately. But that 
 of the 23rd contains some interesting questions. First, 
 about Lord Russell. I should be sorry to doubt that 
 he has, on the whole, throughout his public life, acted 
 on his genuine convictions — strengthened by his illus- 
 trious hereditary associations — of what was, as you say, 
 " right for his country." Nor do I consider the purity 
 of his motives at all sullied by his honorable ambition 
 of taking a part in the government of his country. But 
 I am afraid that this ambition has sometimes degen- 
 erated into a love of office for its own sake, and I must 
 own that I have never been able to get over the un- 
 favorable impression which he made on me by his 
 desertion of his colleagues in the crisis of the Crimean 
 War. I did read Bright's speech, and thought it 
 among the most telling he has made in the House of 
 Commons. But being an admirer of Gladstone, I am 
 sorry to see Bright supporting the Ministry. Nothing 
 in my opinion can be more absurd and odious than the 
 maxim that " ladies should not meddle with politics," 
 as if they were either less interested than men in all 
 that concerns the common weal, or were naturally less 
 able to form a sound judgment on political questions. 
 And yet, in point of fact, I believe that very few of 
 them are able to do so; and this is no discredit to 
 them, for in the first place it is equally true of men. 
 Mr. Charles Buxton has published a little book, en- 
 titled " The Ideas of the Day on Policy." The second 
 
LETTERS TO A PEIEND. 71 
 
 chapter opens with the startling " statement, " Parlia- 
 ment may be divided into three portions. Most of its 
 members care little for its polities.'''' Only think. " But 
 of those who do, few take any interest in politics until 
 the principles are embodied in party questions." And 
 the peculiarity of women is that they mostly can take 
 no interest even in party politics until they have be- 
 come personal questions. They need not be ashamed 
 of the fact, for it is the consequence of that which is 
 most amiable in them — the predominance of the emo- 
 tional element in their constitution. And for the same 
 sweet reason it is hardly possible for them to have a 
 political opinion which is really their own, and not 
 made for them by their fathers, brothers, or husbands. 
 And where is the man who can honestly say that he 
 wishes it were otherwise, or does not love them all the 
 better for it? 
 
 'Pray remember that there is only one report of 
 proceedings in Convocation that can be at all depended 
 on — that of the " Guardian." None but what are cop- 
 ied from that are of the slightest value. 
 
 ' I have read the sermon on Elijah.^ I do not think 
 it equal to that on the kindred subject of " The Lone- 
 liness of Christ." Both, no doubt, reflect his own ex- 
 perience, and make one lament that he did not apply 
 his medicine to heal himself. Why it should have been 
 censured I do not see any more than you. It seems 
 to me to contain nothing but what was a perfectly 
 legitimate, though not the only possible, application 
 and " improvement " of the facts. But of course, 
 unless I knew what was his censor's idea of the char- 
 acter of Elijah, I could not judge which of the two 
 1 By F. W. Eobertson. 
 
72 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 understood it best. There are persons who are afflicted 
 with a morbid sensitiveness which leads them to place 
 the worst construction on words and acts. I remember 
 that I entirely forfeited the confidence of an excellent 
 person — an assiduous and admiring reader of the 
 " Record " — in my orthodoxy, by using the word 
 chalice in speaking of the sacramental cup. But 
 Robertson's censor seems at least to have had a posi- 
 tive theory of his own, which is always respectable. 
 Yes, I did know that Madame de Bunsen was engaged 
 upon a life of the Baron. She informed me of it 
 herself, and I remember it was one of the topics of 
 my conversation with the Queen. I long exceedingly 
 to see it. I have not read Dickens's last ghost story. 
 Your promise to send me one reminded me of a story 
 which I thought you would like, and which I now 
 actually enclose. It is from an Indian story-book, 
 and I think even more interesting and remarkable 
 than those I sent some time ago from Persian and 
 Arabic sources. It is wonderful to find so much of 
 the purest Christianity in the midst of the grossest 
 heathenism 
 
 ' Prince Viravara came to the court of Sudraka, the 
 Maharajah of the Carnatic, and, having been admitted 
 into the royal presence, proposed to enter the Rajah's 
 service as body-guard for proper pay. " How much ? " 
 asked Sudraka. " Five hundred gold pieces a day," 
 answered Viravara. The Rajah was startled at the 
 demand, and asked, " "Why, what retinue bringest thou 
 with thee?" ''My two arms and my sword," replied 
 Viravara. 
 
 ' On this Sudraka flatly refused, and Viravara with- 
 
LETTEKS TO A FRIEND. 73 
 
 drew. But presently the Rajah was advised by his 
 ministers to make a trial of the stranger for four days, 
 in which it might be ascertained whether he was worth 
 so high a salary. So Viravara was recalled, and 
 solemnly installed in office with the betel nut, and 
 received the first payment of the five hundred gold 
 pieces, and stationed himself, sword in hand, at the 
 Rajah's door, remaining there day and night, until 
 sent home by the Rajah himself. 
 
 ' In the meanwhile strict inquiry was privately 
 made by the Rajah's order as to the way in which 
 Viravara spent his pay ; and it was found that one-half 
 was given to the gods and the Brahmins, and of the 
 remainder oile-half to the poor, a quarter only being 
 applied to his own maintenance. 
 
 ' One very dark night the Rajah, being in his room, 
 heard a strange sound, .as of a woman sobbing aloud. 
 "Who is in waiting?" he called out. "I, sire," said 
 Viravara. " Go and search out the cause of this sob- 
 bing," said the Rajah. " I go, sire," said Viravara, and 
 set off. But the next moment the Rajah bethought him- 
 self. " It was wrong," he said to himself, " to send this 
 royal youth alone in such a night, of darkness thick 
 enough to be run through with a needle. I must go after 
 him." So, taking his sword, he followed Viravara, who, 
 led by the sound, went out of the' town. 
 
 ' In a lone spot Viravara found the weeper, a beauti- 
 ful woman richly attired, and asked her who she was, 
 and why she wept so bitterly. " I," said she, " am the 
 Rajah's Lakshmi " (his Fortune, or good Genius). 
 " Long have I reposed happily in the shade of his arm ; 
 but now I am going to leave him to his ruin." "Is 
 there no way of keeping you here?" asked Viravara. 
 
 4 
 
74 BISHOP THIBLWALL'S 
 
 The Lakshmi replied, " If thou wilt make a sacrifice of 
 thy son Saktidhira, who is gifted with the thirty-two 
 auspicious tokens of excellence, to the goddess Sarva- 
 mangala, I will prolong my stay. Not else ; " and, so 
 saying, disappeared. 
 
 ' Viravara then went home, roused his wife and son 
 from their sleep,- and related what he had seen and 
 heard. Saktidhira exclaimed with joy, " Oh, happy I, 
 that such noble use can be made of me to preserve our 
 master's throne ! Why delay ? A praiseworthy em- 
 ployment of the body this. For, as the saying is, a 
 wise man will give up riches and life itself for the sake 
 of his neighbor : death being inevitable, he will prefer 
 to devote himself for a good end." The mother said, 
 " How else can we make due return for the extraordi- 
 nary salary we enjoy ? " 
 
 ' So all proceeded to the temple of Sarvamangala, 
 where, after prayer for the prosperity of Sudraka, 
 Viravara besought the goddess to accept his offering, 
 and cut off his son's head. He then reflected that he 
 had now earned the Rajah's gold, and that after the 
 loss of his son life was worthless to him, and cut off his 
 own head. His wife, seeing herself so bereaved, fol- 
 lowed his example. 
 
 'AH this was seen by Sudraka with astonishment 
 and admiration. "Little creatures," he cried, "such as 
 I, live and die; but a man like this there never was 
 before in the world, and never will be. What is my 
 kingdom worth without him?" So saying, he raised 
 his sword to kill himself, but his arm was stayed by 
 Sarvamangala : " Enough, my son. I take thee into 
 my favor. Thy kingdom is safe to the end of thy 
 life," "Goddess," said Sudraka, "if thou pitiest me. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 75 
 
 let Viravara, with his wife and son, live with me for the 
 rest of my days, or I follow them in death." "I am 
 well pleased, my son," said the goddess, "with thy 
 magnanimity and tenderness. Go and prosper. The 
 prince and his family shall live." So saying, she dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 ' Viravara went home with his wife and son, and 
 Sudraka returned to his palace unobserved. Next morn- 
 ing, seeing Viravara at his post, he questioned him as 
 to what he had found. " Sire," said Viravara, " the 
 weeping woman at the sight of me disappeared, and I 
 have no other tidings to relate." Then the Rajah 
 thought, " What heroism and what modesty ! How 
 coniplete is this man in every virtue." And forthwith 
 he assembled all his nobles, and, having recounted the 
 whole history, resigned the throne of the Carnatic to 
 Viravara.' 
 
 'Abbrowili Palace, li April, 1866. 
 
 ' - . . . The extract you give relating to Victor 
 Hugo's last is far below the reality, in which there is a 
 much more curious complication of absurd blunders. 
 The whole passage runs thus : " Un coup d'^quinoxe 
 vient de d^molir, sur la frontiSre d'Angleterre et d'Ecosse, 
 la falaise Premiere des Quatre, First of the Fourth." 
 This is certainly the richest thing I have yet met with, 
 but I have only got a little more than half-way through 
 the second volume. The Scotch national instrument he 
 calls the bug__pipe. In the extravagance of the story 
 he has surpassed himself : but he has raked together 
 such heaps of sea-words, not to be found in any diction- 
 ary, that the title of the book would be not inappro- 
 priately applied to the readers.' ^ 
 
 1 TravailUurs de la Mer. 
 
76 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 19 April, 1866. 
 
 ' This is the first time a letter from you ever came to 
 me too soon. It has robbed me of a delightful illusion, 
 which would have enabled me to enjoy the journey to 
 Lampeter, notwithstanding the dismal weather. Alas ! 
 Alas! 
 
 ' The fact that I am on the point of setting out is a 
 sufScient answer to your question about myself. I am 
 not sure that there are no remains of my cold left, but 
 I think I am now entirely free from hoarseness, which 
 was the only thing of any importance. You have an 
 exaggerated notion of the general helplessness of men. 
 I have been doctoring myself successfully. I imbibed 
 a mixture of lemon juice and honey, to which I attrib- 
 ute the relief of my throat. I shall travel with my 
 own horses — partly to exercise them for the journey to 
 Brecon : and I shall be more sheltered from adverse 
 Avinds than I might be in the railway. Remember that 
 when you have finished " Waterloo " I have more from 
 the same forge.' 
 
 ' Abergwili Palace, 27 April, 1S66. 
 ' Spring seems now to have fairly set in, and my 
 only annoyance is, that just when it is opening in aU 
 the beauty of the " dolce stagione fra '1 fin d'Aprile, e '1 
 cominciar di Maggio," I am obliged to go up to the 
 hateful town. I cannot sufficiently thank you for your 
 kind proposal. I am insatiably ravenous of all that 
 relates to the " bel paese, che '1 mar circonda e I'Alpi," 
 and its people ; and it is indeed very rarely that one has 
 an opportunity of reading anything about it that has 
 not been dressed up for publication.' 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 77 
 
 ' Abergwili Palace, 12 May, 1866. 
 
 ' I do not know how to find proper language to 
 thank you for No. 1 of the Italian Tour. Do not sup- 
 pose that this is a mere rhetorical phrase : it is the 
 simple expression of a matter of fact. I do not know 
 how I shall ever convince you that you not only have 
 never written, but can never write, anything which it 
 does not give me pleasure to read. I should also wish 
 if it was possible to remove the delusion under which 
 you labor as to the extent of my knowledge. I am 
 sure it has deprived me of numbers of good things 
 which I should have heard but for that unfortunate 
 hallucination. I always read the chapter on crossing 
 the channel with unabated interest. I will only remark 
 on No. 1 that, though I visited Amiens in November, 
 1861, I do not recollect the scaffolding, and did not see 
 the relic — on which there is an amusing Paper by 
 Cardinal Wiseman in the Collection edited by Man- 
 ning.^ .... I have read the two Papers in the " Port- 
 nightly" on the shocking question as to the ancient 
 Britons.2 
 
 'Deplorable as it is that such a question should be 
 
 1 ' I will proceed to a. second popular ctarge, and it is one the 
 opportunity of easily verifying which may never occur again. It refers 
 to the head of S. John the Baptist, or shall I say, to the three heads of 
 S. John the Baptist ? Because, if yon read English travellers of the 
 old , stamp, like Forsyth, you will find that they make coarse jokes 
 ahout it. Forsyth, I think, says something about Cerberus ; but more 
 gravely, it has been said that S . John must have had three heads — one 
 being at Amiens, one at Genoa, and another at Rome ; that at each 
 place they are equally positive in their claims ; and that there is no 
 way of explaining this but by supposing that S. John was a triceps.' — 
 Essays on Religion and Literature, by Yarious Writers ; edited by H. 
 E. Manning, D.D. 
 
 2 Were the Ancient Britons Savages? by "W. "W. Wilkias. 
 
78 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 asked in the nineteenth century, it is at least a comfort 
 that the answer is irreproachably orthodox. I, however, 
 quite agree with you in lamenting the constant exten- 
 sion of periodical literature. And that which aggra- 
 vates the calamity is that there is so much of it that is 
 so good that if you take it in you cannot help reading 
 it : and yet there is more than enough to absorb the 
 whole of every one's available time. I have found 
 myself obliged to add the " Fortnightly " and the 
 " Contemporary " to my previous list : the latter by 
 way of a corrective, though I must say that considering 
 that Lewes is an avowed atheist .... his manage- 
 ment of .the " Review " does him credit, as it contains 
 some very good articles on the religious side. How 
 can you suppose that I ever heard the legend of the 
 Tolls of Oomraj ? Pray send it. In the way of sights 
 I have only seen the exhibition of the Academy — which 
 is generally good — and a collection of French and 
 Flemish pictures, which also contains a great deal that 
 is very interesting. I am now meditating an excursion 
 to the South Kensington Museum to see the collection 
 of portraits, and for that purpose, as I may not have 
 another opportunity, conclude, in earnest longing for 
 No. II,, though the day is so dismal that I hardly 
 expect to find light enough for my purpose ' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 23 May, 1866. 
 ' .... I am just now reading Louis Blanc's " Lettres 
 sur I'Angleterre," which appeared first in the French 
 " Temps," and are now collected in two volumes. They 
 discuss every question which excited any interest in 
 England in 1861-62. It is to me very interesting to 
 learn the views of such a man on so many important 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 79 
 
 subjects. He is generally well-informed, and always 
 
 candid and friendly It is possible I may have 
 
 done injustice to George Eliot I only expressed 
 
 the impression that had been made on me by her review 
 of Lecky's " History of Rationalism," in the first number 
 of the " Fortnightly." But her capacity for sympathy 
 with religious feeling, and her power of exhibiting it, 
 would not lead me to a different conclusion. In her 
 stories she writes as an artist : in the " Review " she 
 more or less plainly discloses her opinions. I can quite 
 believe the story about Lewes, which does him great 
 honor.i I spent two afternoons among the portraits 
 at Kensington, and the time ran like a rapid. There 
 were three good Olivers. I find that it is intended to 
 take photographs of the more remarkable, under the 
 auspices of the Arundel Society, and so I hope to 
 preserve my recollection of some which I marked in my 
 
 catalogue Your legend could only have sprung 
 
 from an Oriental imagination. No European mind — 
 especially since Rebecca — could have conceived the 
 idea of people going out of their way for the sake of 
 paying toll.' ^ 
 
 1 Mrs. S. 0. Hall asked Lewes' opinion as to the putlication of a 
 MS. He read it and said that it would be a clear loss to the publisher, 
 if one could be found to print it. Then Mrs. S. C. Hall replied, ' I do 
 not know what will become of the wretched authoress. She is a widow, 
 very poor, and depends on the success of the book for bread for her 
 children and herself.' Lewes' eyes filled with tears, and he took out a 
 little worn shabby purse, and gave her all it contained, which he, poor as 
 he himself then was, could ill afford. ' Give them this,' he said ; ' I wish 
 I had more, but it may help them.' 
 
 ' In the days of the Mohammedan kings, there was a covetous king 
 who had a very beautiful wife, the only thing he loved except money. 
 She always used her influence on the part of the poor and oppressed, 
 and was the only source of mercy or justice in the kingdom. One day 
 
80 BISHOP THIELW ALL'S 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 26 May, 1866. 
 'I see that you consider me as not less difiScult of 
 access than the Lama of Thibet or the Mikado of Japan. 
 In one respect my habits do resemble those of these 
 great recluses: that, as long as I am in the country, 
 whoever calls is pretty sure to find me at home. So far 
 at least the chances are in your favor. All I can now 
 say to you is, " Come." It will be time enough when 
 
 you are here to consider when you shall go 
 
 This is certainly not weather for leaving off anything 
 intended for winter wear. The face indeed has been 
 the face of May, but the breath has been the rudest air 
 of March. I am glad to see clouds gathering. I hope 
 the rain is coming to lay the wind.' 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 1 June, 1866. 
 
 ' . . . . The " Italian Refugee," Gabriele Rossetti. 
 
 He, as you truly say, " wrote also," though, I believe, 
 
 the king told her to ask of him whatever she wished for, and promised 
 to give it to her. She prayed him to give her one day's transit duties 
 at the toll-gate of Oomraj. He was comforted by thinking that she 
 had asked for the tolls of a wretched village in the mountain, when she 
 might have begged for the customs of Surat or Lahore. So he gave the 
 order. Though not one in five millions of the people knew where Oomraj 
 was when the edict was proclaimed, all had inquired and discovered 
 long before the day came that it was among the hills near Poonah, and 
 with one accord it was agreed in every village throughout the land that 
 every man should go with his cart or his buUocks, and pay toll to the 
 queen on that day. So to Oomraj they went, and from sunrise to sun- 
 set filed through the village by thousands, and when the wearied toll- 
 keeper counted the heaps of money after the day was done, the total was 
 900,000 i-upees (90,0002.), and the village has been called Oomraj of the 
 900,000 ever since. The king was so struck by this practical recognition 
 of his queen's justice and mercy that he reformed his administration, 
 and the good queen had the pleasure of seeing his people happy and pros- 
 perous ever after. — Abridged from the version of the Legend in Chow 
 Ghow, by Viscountess Falkland. 
 
LETTERS TO A FEIEND. 81 
 
 only in Italian. But he was a mucli more voluminous 
 writer, and of much higher literary distinction, than I 
 should expect Christina, however gifted she may be, 
 will ever become. He was profoundly versed in the 
 oldest Italian and Proven9al literature, and had a pe- 
 culiar theory about the hidden meaning of the poetry of 
 Dante and the Troubadours, which he believed to have 
 a purely political drift, directed against the Papacy. 
 He developed this theory in a number of works. He 
 began an edition of Dante with a commentary illustra- 
 tive of his views, but it did not go beyond the second 
 volume, and only included the "Inferno." With this 
 was coupled a separate volume, " Sullo Spirito antipa- 
 pale che produsse la Riforma," dedicated to Sir Charles' 
 Lyell. He also published with the same object five 
 volumes, " SuU' amor Platonico." You may conceive 
 what scandal he caused by denying the existence of' 
 Dante's Beatrice, and even of Petrarch's Laura. With 
 regard to the former, I confess that I have myself been 
 unable to resist the mass of evidence which he brought 
 to prove that she existed only in Dante's mind, and 
 was one of a large class of what he calls " Mistiche 
 donne." He may have over-ridden his hobby, but it is 
 all very curioi^s and interesting. I have also four small 
 volumes of his lyrical poetry, all religious and patriotic, 
 which I believe had some popularity in Italy. But of 
 him enough for an dpropos. Did you ever hear music 
 sweeter than the thunder ? ever feel anything more re- 
 freshing than the shower ? — feel I mean without a 
 sense of moisture, which I hope you have escaped, how- 
 ever it may have surprised the sons of Mars.' ^ 
 
 1 In allusion to the Militia training at Caermarthen. 
 4* 
 
82 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 26 June, 1866. 
 
 ' Your last despatch, prematurely directed to me in 
 London, has reached me this morning. I do not leave 
 for town until to-morrow. My stay will certainly be 
 short, and I may return this week, but I must make 
 allowance for contingencies. I grudge the journey 
 excessively and all the time I shall be detained in Lon- 
 don, not merely on account of the beauty of the country, 
 but because the house is just now enlivened by a parcel 
 of merry children enjoying their Midsummer holidays. 
 It was on the 20th, the date of your letter, that I set 
 out, not for London, but for Aberayron. You write as 
 if you supposed that I had gone and returned the same 
 day. But the distance is thirty-five miles, and I 
 travelled with my own horses. The rain was incessant 
 until midnight. I did not take any luncheon on the 
 road. The next day, the 21st, was the opening of Hen- 
 fynyw Church. After the service there was luncheon 
 in a tent, and I ate a small piece of dry bread, purposing 
 to dine at Aberayron ; but as I returned from the 
 church, the prospect of the weather looked so fair, that 
 I determined on getting home that evening. After a 
 rather pleasant drive I arrived between ten and eleven, 
 and, as there was no cold meat in the house, dined or 
 supped upon eggs and bacon. 
 
 'You are quite right in thinking that Rossetti's 
 process of evaporation into a mystic ideal is attended 
 with much greater difficulties in the case of Laura than 
 of Beatrice. In the latter I believe he has often won 
 a strong conviction, in the former he has probably 
 seldom done more than shake the reader's faith. 
 
 ' The war cuts me in half. I wish success to 
 Austria in Germany, that is defeat and humiliation to 
 
LETTERS TO A ERIEND. 83 
 
 Prussia and Bismark, but I wisli victory to the Italians. 
 And it is painful to me to think how nearly hopeless it 
 is that both these wishes should be gratified. Yet I 
 could hardly say which I should be willing to sacrifice 
 to the other. 
 
 ' The defeat of the Ministry is, I believe, owing to 
 Gladstone's misplaced confidence in human nature. He 
 fancied that the Liberals who had hoisted the banner 
 of Reform on the hustings were mostly in earnest, and 
 meant what they said. To Lowe belongs the merit of 
 having put an end to this delusion, though I hope it 
 will render it impossible for him to find a place any- 
 where out of his cave. 
 
 'It is a par ty t rick with the Tories to treat John 
 Stuart Mill ag a b ore. I heard him deliver a most 
 interesting and instructive speech on the Irish landlord 
 and tenant question, during which every seat on the 
 front bench of the Opposition was emptied. They are 
 not able to see that this affectation of stupidity only 
 injures themselves. By this time, perhaps, they have 
 ceased to be an Opposition. If so I warrant that they 
 
 are serious enough But I am grieved to see 
 
 that the war seems to be running counter to my wishes 
 on both sides. At present the Prussians have it all 
 their own way in Germany, while it looks as if the 
 Italians had already suffered a serious reverse in an 
 imprudent attack on Venetia ' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 6 July, 1866. 
 
 'I write, not to thank you for the continuation of 
 
 the " Italian Tour," nor even for the kindest of letters, 
 
 which I might have done a little later, but to wish you 
 
 joy. I hardly know any one else in these parts who is 
 
84 BISHOP THIBLWALL'S 
 
 worthy of such good news. I could hardly believe my 
 eyes this morning when, languidly opening yesterday's 
 " Times," I saw in large type " Austrian Cession of 
 Venetia." It seems still almost a dream and too good to 
 be true ; but coupled with the decisive defeat in Bohemia 
 — though it does not yet appear whether the two events 
 are connected as cause and effect — it may, I suppose,- 
 be taken as certain. That defeat in itself does not by 
 any means give me so much pleasure, and nothing but 
 the independence of Italy could reconcile me to the 
 triumph of Bisinark and Prussia. But it will bb at- 
 tended with other results which are by no means so 
 agreeable. All has turned out after the wishes, and 
 probably the plans, of the great conjurer at Paris, and 
 he will realize a handsome profit. It is not a coalfield, 
 you may rely upon it, that will content him. He will 
 make at once for the Rhine ; and it will be a mercy if 
 he does not absorb Belgium as well as the Prussian 
 Rhenish provinces. The worst of all is, that he will 
 almost , beyond a doubt lay hands on Antwerp. We 
 shall growl thereat. It will be a serious evil to us — a 
 standing menace, which' will cost us a great deal of 
 money and keep us in perpetual uneasiness, and may, 
 at critical junctures, place us in real danger. But yet 
 it will not be a case of war. So much it will have cost 
 to found the Italian nation. " Tantse molis erat Roma- 
 nam condere gentem." But the Italian unity is worth 
 the price ; nor, if only Bismark was out of the way 
 .... should I consider the German unity as other 
 than a good ; but . for the present it will be only a 
 
 stronger_despotism My hay is down ; but even 
 
 yesterday some was housed ; and to-day, which is, I 
 hope, the beginning of a longer spell of fair weather, it 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 85 
 
 is going on briskly and prosperously. You have before 
 you a pleasure whicli I think will be among the highest 
 of the season if you have not read "Felix Holt" and 
 " Baker's Travels." ' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 2 Aug., 1866. 
 
 ' I must count it a rare piece of good fortune to 
 have lost my good looks without any suffering, when it 
 procures me the pleasure of such kind expressions of 
 your anxiety for my health, which, if anything was 
 really the matter with me, would act as an anodyne if 
 not as a panacea. For the same reason I can hardly 
 wish that you should be more open to conviction than 
 I am myself on the question of luncheon. I know that 
 to whatever age my life may be protracted, you would 
 be equally sure to say that I fell a victim to my ob- 
 stinacy in the matter of luncheon. I am very much 
 obliged to you for the sight of the three letters, which 
 I return. I am delighted with Miss Jewsbury's story 
 of the tailor's daughter and Carlyle.^ I do not know 
 whether people in general have a notion that he is 
 deficient in feeling. I was always sure of the reverse. 
 I also believed what the late Lord Ashburton used to 
 say of him — that he is a profoundly religious man. 
 (You know he passes for an atheist with some people.) 
 
 Mr. S writes as if he supposed that I have some 
 
 personal interest in the study of Xanthippe's method 
 of scolding. You should let him know that happily (I 
 ought to have said unhappily) I have no opportunity of 
 testing its merits by comparison with any other in my 
 domestic experience. Can he have had access to any 
 MS. of Xenophon's " Memorabilia," containing speci- 
 
 1 Appendix C. 
 
86 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 mens of her curtain lectures, a^ overheard by some 
 Athenian "Punch"? Though I have no doubt that 
 Socrates often had a very bad time with her, I can also 
 easily conceive that he was not seldom very aggravating 
 to her. What must she have gone through when he 
 stood like a post for twenty -four hours together musing, 
 and only came home when all she had prepared for his 
 day's meals was spoilt. Then at the end of his life he 
 treated her in a way which would have been shameful 
 if it had not been after the fashion of all Athenian 
 husbands. I do not remember that you said anything 
 about the Basques that was not quite consistent with 
 what I found in M. Martin's letter. I do not know 
 whether he is acquainted with an essay on the subject 
 by W. V. Humboldt, which is generally considered a 
 classical work, though much has been done since in the 
 same field. I hardly think he will be prepared for all 
 that he will find in Matthew Arnold's " Essays on the 
 Study of Celtic Literature," and rather doubt whether 
 he will fully appreciate the exquisitely fine and subtle 
 analysis or the force of all the illustrations. Yet in 
 many respects they are better suited to a French taste 
 — as they constantly remind me of Sainte-Beuve — than 
 to that of us wretched Philistines.' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 14 Aug., 1866. 
 ' - . . . Does not this crisis of the war drama almost 
 take away your breath, when you think that we may be 
 on the eve of a far greater and more perilous struggle 
 than that which seemed so near to its close? I observe 
 that a leading German journal treats Louis Napoleon's 
 demand as "absurd." That seems to indicate that 
 Prussia will not comply with it ; and it would probably 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 87 
 
 be as mucli as his crown is worth to recede from it, at 
 least when it becomes known what it is. 
 
 ' I have read the two numbers of the " Village on 
 the Cliff," and found it very pleasant. It is Miss 
 Thackeray's, and at present I like it much better than 
 her " Elizabeth " ; but I wish she had continued those 
 modernized Fairy Tales, of which " Cinderella" was such 
 a happy specimen. I used often to meet Sydney Smith, 
 but never, I believe, saw his brother Bobus, as his 
 friends always called him. He was in many respects, 
 certainly as a writer of Latin verse, superior to Sydney, 
 but not, I should think, quite equal to him in wit or 
 humor. If he was, and all record of it has been lost, he 
 and all of us are very unfortunate 
 
 ' Do you know the Indian version of the story of 
 " Bedd Gellert " ? Let me take for granted that you 
 do not, and would like to have it. The Brahmin's wife 
 had gone out to perform her ablutions, leaving him 
 at home in charge of their infant. Presently arrives 
 the King's messenger, summoning the Brahmin to the 
 Shraddha — the monthly offering to the departed, at 
 which the officiating Brahmins receive handsome pres- 
 ents. This Brahmin was poor, and could not afford to 
 lose the fee, but was afraid to leave the child alone. 
 Suddenly the thought struck him, " Here 's my faithful 
 ichneumon, who has always been to me as a son. I can 
 leave him to take care of baby." So off he went. Soon 
 after the ichneumon sees a black serpent approaching 
 the cradle, and kills it, and, less from appetite than from 
 anger, devours a part of it. The Brahmin, on his return, 
 meets the ichneumon coming affectionately to meet him 
 with his mouth smeared with blood, and hastily kills 
 him : then comes in and finds his child safe and sound 
 
88 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 near the remains of the black serpent, and " goes to ex- 
 treme grief." Whether he erected a monument to the 
 ichneumon does not appear. 
 
 ' I must thank you for the last number of the " Tour." 
 It made me feel as if I was inhaling the mountain air.' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 24 Av^., 1866. 
 ' .... I have not yet got quite to the bottom of my 
 budget of stories. As you had not heard the last, I feel 
 the liveliest hope that the two I have now to send will 
 be new to you. But to-day I only send the Indian one, 
 which you must read first. The European version shall 
 follow to-morrow 
 
 'The Maxim, 
 
 ' A base person should not be raised to high estate, 
 
 is illustrated by the story of the Muni and the Mouse, 
 which runs thus : — 
 
 ' In a forest of the south once lived a very holy 
 Muni, who by extraordinary austerities had gained 
 .almost unlimited powers over nature. He was also a 
 kind-hearted man. One day he saw a crow carrying 
 off a little mouse. He bade the crow give it up, and 
 reared it with grains of rice till it had grown up to full 
 mousehood. One day, as the mouse was playing near 
 him, it saw a cat, and in terror ran up the Muni's leg 
 to take shelter in his bosom. " Poor mouse," said the 
 Muni, "be thou a cat." And so it was. Puss now 
 inspired terror, but felt none ; until one day a big dog 
 came up. Puss put up her back in horror. " Poor 
 pussy," said the Muni, " be thou a dog." And so it 
 was. " Who is afraid now ? " thought the dog. But 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 89 
 
 one day, having seen a tiger prowling about, he came 
 to the Muni with his tail between his legs. " Poor 
 dog," said the Muni, "be thou a tiger." And so it 
 was. • The tiger stayed with the Muni, who thought of 
 him only as of a pet mouse. Seeing them together, 
 people said, " Ah ! there is the saint and the tiger that 
 was once a little mouse." Upon this the tiger began 
 to reflect within himself : " As long as this Muni lives 
 everybody will know from what a low condition I 
 sprang. Therefore I must get rid of him." But the 
 Muni, seeing the tiger ready to spring, said, " Wicked 
 tiger, be thou a mouse again." And so it was ; and 
 the mouse was presently picked up by a bird, and never 
 came down again.' 
 
 ' In a small house in a retired part of Seville lived 
 Don Manuel Fulano, with his elderly housekeeper 
 Jacinta. Don Manuel seldom stirred out, but was all 
 day in his study. He had the reputation of being a 
 wonderfully learned man, indeed of knowing more than 
 he ought. For as he had several Hebrew and Arabic 
 books, the characters of which looked very much like 
 gramarye, he was believed to be versed in magic, the 
 white kind at least, if not the black. 
 
 ' One day Jacinta told him there was a young man 
 at the door, who had a letter for him. He ordered him 
 to be shown in. The youth, quite a stripling, whose 
 name was Diego Perez, had brought a letter of recom- 
 mendation from a friend of Don Manuel. 
 
 ' Don Manuel received him courteously, and asked 
 what he could do for him. Diego then stated that he 
 was going to the university of Salamanca to pursue his 
 
90 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 studies with a view of entering Holy Orders ; but he 
 admitted that he was not free from ambition, and de- 
 sired very much to rise in the world. But, having no 
 friends to back him with their interest, he had come to 
 Don Manuel in hopes of getting some little charm, or 
 spell, or amulet, or any of those things which he knew 
 so well, to bring him good luck. 
 
 ' On hearing this Don Manuel went to the door of 
 his study, and, opening it, called out, " Jacinta, roast 
 the partridges. Don Diego will stay to dinner." Diego,. 
 however, thanking him for his hospitality, was obliged 
 to decline it, as the muleteer with whom he was to 
 travel was waiting for him, and he again preferred his 
 request. 
 
 ' Don Manuel then said, " My young friend, the best 
 thing I can give you is a piece of advice. Work hard ; 
 do your duty ; say your prayers ; and leave the rest to 
 Providence. However," he added, seeing that Diego 
 seemed disappointed, " I shall be ready to help you 
 with all the good oiHces in my power." On this Diego 
 took his leave, rather vexed than edified by the advice, 
 and only a little comforted by the promise. 
 
 ' At Salamanca his career was very brilliant. He 
 took first the bachelor's and then the doctor's degree 
 with extraordinary eclat. 
 
 ' The fame of his exercises in the schools reached 
 the Bishop of Burgos, who promoted him to a stall in 
 his cathedral, and not long after, on the death of the 
 dean, he was elected by the chapter to fill his place. 
 His name even reached the court, and the king 
 nominated him to the bishopric of Avila. The new 
 prelate himself was amazed at the rapidity of his eleva- - 
 tion, and, though he was fully conscious of his own 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 91 
 
 merits, there were moments when he suspected that he 
 must have owed a part of his good fortune to the good 
 offices of Don Manuel. 
 
 ' But all this was nothing compared to what lay in 
 store for him. He was raised to the Archbishopric of 
 Toledo, and received the ordinary adjunct of a cardinal's 
 hat. Soon after, the Pope died, and Diego went to 
 Rome for the Conclave. Through some singular com- 
 bination (like that which produced the election of Pio 
 Nono) a majority of votes fell to him. He almost 
 fainted when it was announced to him. Canon, Dean, 
 Bishop, Archbishop, Cardinal, and — now not much 
 turned of forty — Pope ! 
 
 ' One morning the cardinal in waiting announced to 
 the Pope that there was an old Spaniard, named Don 
 Manuel Fulano, who solicited an audience of His Holi- 
 ness, whom he pretended to have known in his youth. 
 The Pope was dreadfully annoyed by this reminiscence 
 of his low beginnings, but ordered Don Manuel to be 
 admitted. Don Manuel came in with a cheerful and 
 confident air, which provoked the Pope still more. 
 Assuming a look of the sternest displeasure, he said, 
 "Don Manuel, we are surprised that you should pre- 
 sume to venture into our presence. We know that you 
 were commonly reported to be given to forbidden arts. 
 Think yourself well off that you are permitted to leave 
 Rome. If you stay a day longer in our capital you will 
 be lodged in the prisons of the Holy Office." 
 
 'Don Manuel made no answer, but, going to the 
 door, called out, " Jacinta, you need not put down the 
 partridges. Don Diego will not stay to dinner." And, 
 lo ! Diego found himself at Don Manuel's door — with 
 his way yet to make in the world.' 
 
92 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 'Abebgwili Palace, 4 Sept., 1866. 
 ' I am very much afraid that your remark on my 
 last couple of twin stories, innocent as it looks, was 
 meant to express the opinion that their likeness may 
 be sufficiently accounted for by the fact that both east 
 and west there have been ungrateful upstarts. I do 
 not think that is at all a satisfactory explanation. The 
 resemblance appears to me to be such that it would be 
 myriads of chances to one that two such illustrations 
 of the truth should have occurred independently to two 
 different minds. I have no more doubt of the identity 
 between Diego and the mouse than of that between 
 Gellert and the ichneumon, and the Indian ]\Iuni no less 
 strikingly corresponds with Don Manuel the Magician. 
 The retribution of ingratitude might have been ex- 
 hibited in an infinite variety of other ways. I am not 
 aware that the two stories were ever placed in juxta- 
 position before; it was but very recently that I met 
 with the Indian parable. The other I have not seen 
 ' for some sixty years, when I read it in a magazine 
 the name of which I have now forgotten, but it so 
 printed itself in my memory that I have a perfectly 
 distinct recollection of the whole framework, including 
 the first and second call to Jacinta about the partridges, 
 and the student's intermediate career. All the rest of 
 course is mere embroidery. Only the shame of the 
 low origin, which is common to Diego and the mouse, 
 is an original feature of both stories. When the trans- 
 migration of fictions is so well established a fact, it 
 would be capricious to be sceptical about a particular 
 instance, even if it should be necessary to suppose 
 that some link between the two existing forms had 
 been lost ' 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 93 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 25 Sept., 1866. 
 
 ' I snatcli a few moments in the very brief lull be- 
 tween the departure of my candidates and the arrival 
 of a host of Education Boardmen to answer your ques- 
 tion as to the Grammar which I spoke of to Mr, 
 Perowne. It is Gambold's ; he was a very meritorious 
 person. Through the kindness of the late Mr. Traherne 
 I possess three of his works in MS., the Grammar, and 
 a Welsh-English and English-Welsh Dictionary. All 
 are written in a small and exquisitely neat hand, and 
 the Grammar is, as I said, the most useful I know for 
 the initial mutations. For a more advanced student, 
 as a guide to the etymology and syntax, I should recom- 
 mend Rowland's, of which I lately received a copy of 
 the third edition from the author. 
 
 ' How good it is of you to express satisfaction with 
 your visit ! Though I know it is the efEect of your 
 good nature, it mitigates the regret with which I look 
 back upon all the untoward incidents which accom- 
 panied it — the dreadful weather, my repeated absences, 
 and my deafness, which makes me a nuisance while it 
 deprives me of more than half the pleasure of society. 
 .... The weather has shown some signs of relenting, 
 but how treacherous and fickle ! Last night, as I looked 
 out on that glorious moon and that bank of clouds 
 (which I hope you saw and were reminded by it of the 
 Jungfrau), I actually fancied that the change had come. 
 I was even confirmed in the hope by to-day's sunshine, 
 but to be how soon undeceived. I will give up all hope 
 until we have three fine days, and then most likely the 
 fpurth will be rainy ' 
 
94 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 1 Oct., 1866. 
 ' I should have accepted your kind ofEer with pleas- 
 ure and gratitude if I had been catless, especially as I 
 am particularly fond of good tortoiseshell cats, which 
 are very rare. I once had one which was a perfect 
 beauty, and no less amiable than beautiful. The lovely- 
 creature came to an untimely end, killed by a horrid 
 big black dog (abetted, I am afraid, by one of my own, 
 who should have known better) who came into the 
 house one Sunday while we were all at church. But 
 I do not venture to introduce a second cat into the 
 family without the express consent of the one now 
 reigning, which I do not expect him to give ; and I 
 remember many years ago receiving a kitten from Aber- 
 glasney, which was destroyed by an elder cat of that 
 day ; and, as a general rule, I believe that cats do 
 not get on well together unless they are members of 
 the same family. You seem to have intended some 
 good thing for me, which I have not received. Your 
 letter was full of sweet words, and contained other 
 fragrant things : but no rules.^ I am actually meditat- 
 ing to take a little drive this afternoon simply to cele- 
 brate the fineness of the day, which has been hitherto 
 without rain. It will be the first I have taken for the 
 sake of an airing for about five weeks. The glass also 
 has risen — if that signifies anything — and the whole 
 season has been so anomalous that it would not surprise 
 me if it was to continue fine till sunset.' 
 
 1 Bules of the Welsh IniHipil Changes, by the late Dr. Charles Willianis, ' 
 D.D., Piinoipal of Jesus College, Oxford. Privately printed. "^ 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 95 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 11 Oct., 1866. 
 
 ' . . . . Mrs. Austin had the kindness to send me 
 Lady Duff Gordon's " Letters from Egypt." As it is 
 the third edition I suppose you have read them. I am 
 pecking at them by snatches and find them delicious, 
 not so much for the descriptions as for the record of 
 the impression she made on the natives, which was 
 evidently that of an angel, and yet was produced simply 
 by the exhibition of human kindness which any traveller 
 might show, but it seems none, not one, had ever been 
 moved to show before ; and I am afraid that the im- 
 pression was deepened by contrast with the ordinary 
 behavior of Europeans, but especially of her own coun- 
 trymen. I am afraid that we may come to learn what 
 that means when it is too late. That cry in the streets 
 of Meerut is not the less ominous because it is the 
 effect of a delusion. What is, I fear, no delusion, 
 is the feeling with which the English are viewed in 
 India by Hindus and Mussulmans, and, perhaps, by all 
 but a few Parsee Rothschilds. While they confer ma- 
 terial benefits on the country, and endeavor to govern 
 it justly, they make themselves detested individually, 
 and expose their empire to danger for want of a little 
 civility which would cost them nothing. I do not 
 take in " All the Year Round." I stopped it, I now 
 forget why, when the title was changed ; and as my 
 space and time are both limited, and I take in the 
 "Cornhill," "Macmillan," "Good Words," the "Fort- 
 nightly," and the " Contemporary," to say nothing of 
 the " Spectator " and the " Saturday," and four or five 
 German periodicals, I feel that I am sufficiently pro- 
 vided with this branch of literature, which would be 
 
96 BISHOP THIRL WALL'S 
 
 capable, if one were to, let it, of absorbing every hour 
 of a hard-reading man. 
 
 ' . . . . Novel-writers are, as I understand, subject 
 to such strange fluctuations that it is quite possible for 
 one to bring out an excellent story after heaps of trash. 
 What makes me particularly shy of one whose character 
 I have to learn for myself is an idiosyncrasy which 
 makes it hard for me to give up a book which I have 
 begun though I find it bad. It has happened to me 
 but very rarely indeed — once was with that Ameri- 
 can story, which some people thought delightful, " The 
 Wide, Wide World." I struggled through about half 
 of it, but at last .... I could hold up no longer. 
 What is the practical conclusion of all this? It is 
 just to ask whether you would like to make this venture 
 
 on 's book, and let me know how much of it you 
 
 were able to read. I must close hastily for the post.' 
 
 • Abekgwili Palace, 12 Nov., 1866. 
 
 'It will be of no use whatever for you to pretend 
 that as the days have rolled by without bringing any 
 sign of life from me you have not been growing fidgety 
 and curious, and more and more at a loss to think 
 what can have become of me. My only reason for 
 writing now is to relieve you /from that uncertainty: 
 for as I have to set off to-morrow morning to open a 
 church in a remote corner of Radnorshire, I do not 
 know when I may be able to do even so much again. 
 My history is simply that, ever since the end of my 
 visitation, engagements, some in and some out of doors, 
 have been conspiring to deprive me of every moment of 
 leisure for ordinary purposes. The correction of the 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 97 
 
 proofs of that charge has swallowed a great deal of 
 time. As you have probably not had much experience 
 of the same kind you cannot know, either, how many 
 times it is necessary to read every sheet with all the 
 attention you can command, or the anguish which a 
 sensitive author feels at the sight of a misprint which 
 he has overlooked. Then just at the same time comes 
 a MS. essay written for a prize as a memorial of Hare, 
 which on that account — as about the greatest sacrifice 
 I could offer to his manes — I had consented to adju- 
 dicate. It is to me one of the most laborious and 
 irksome of all tasks I did not mean to be senti- 
 mental in speaking of the likelihood that my charge of 
 this year might be my last. I simply stated a good 
 deal less strongly than I feel it what had been present 
 to my mind. The thought was not simply suggested 
 by the fact of my having already occupied my seat so 
 much beyond the usual and reasonable term — longer, I 
 believe, than any of my predecessors, though this has 
 great weight with me. But I cannot and ought not to 
 speak of manifold warnings which I receive to the same 
 effect. The thing which I dread most of all is to 
 
 survive my faculties and capacity for work One 
 
 of the last things I noticed in the way of discoveries 
 was an advertisement of an " Art of Cookery," which 
 Lady Llanover is about to publish from the MSS. of 
 some hermit. It sounds odd, whether the treatise 
 relates to the various ways in which he dressed his 
 herbs and roots, or he was favored with a special 
 revelation on the subject of Vbl-au-vents and PdUs aux 
 Truffes, which of course could not have been known to 
 him from his own experience, and one would not have 
 
 5 
 
98 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 expected that he should have devoted his leisure to 
 either subject '^ 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 30 Wov., 1866. 
 
 ' You must be a witch. But all very amiable and 
 kind-hearted women are. They have a peculiar gift of 
 divination, by which they read thoughts and anticipate 
 wishes. When I was at Hafodneddyn I saw and — 
 not I hope sinfully — coveted a reading-desk like that 
 which I found in your box. In fact, I think I asked 
 Mrs. Philipps to order one for me. You may therefore 
 judge of the pleasure which it gives me to possess it as 
 a gift from you, and how the enjoyment of every book 
 that rests upon it will be enhanced by the remembrance 
 which it will always call up of the giver. Yet there is 
 a part of the machinery which I do not quite under- 
 stand, and therefore I am perhaps not fully aware of 
 the extent of my happiness. There is one piece which 
 detaches itself from the rest, without being available 
 for any use that I have hitherto been able to dis- 
 cover. 
 
 ' I enclose a prospectus which Mr. Furnivall re- 
 quested me to circulate, and I know of nobody but you 
 that would be able to give it currency among people 
 who would sympathize with the object, which appears 
 to me to deserve all encouragement. He himself is a 
 highly meritorious person, and you will own that his 
 labol.-s to spread the fame of Arthur have been very 
 praiseworthy. The Early English Text Society con- 
 
 1 Lady Llanover had then written and published a work which ' she 
 entitled The Welsh Hermit of the Cell of S. Gover, containing lessons 
 on practical cookery, to prove that the strictest economy was consistent 
 with the hest cookery.' > 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 99 
 
 tinues to wort upon the same subject. The last of 
 their publications is "Merlin, or the Early History of 
 King Arthur, a Prose Romance of the Fifteenth Cen- 
 tury, Part II." It is curious to see how strong a hold 
 the story took on the Saxon mind.' 
 
100 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 1867. 
 
 ' Abbegwili, New Tear's Day, 1867. 
 
 'I HAD fully intended to gild and sweeten the close 
 of the old year for myself by a letter which you should 
 receive this day ; but wishing first to be at liberty from 
 official business, ^ had to plunge into a thicket of 
 correspondence, from which, as it turned out, I could 
 not extricate myself until it was too near post time to 
 begin the .only letter which I really desire to write. I 
 have now the advantage of being able to send you the 
 wishes of the New Year without forestalling the future. 
 But words cannot convey the feeling with which they 
 spring from my heart, so as to distinguish them from 
 conventional complimentary phrases. 
 
 ' You must give me credit for a great deal more 
 than language can express. Though not in accordance 
 with common practice, it will be a surer proof of my 
 regard for you if I take you to task, and scold you a 
 little this New Year's Day, in the hope that you will 
 now turn over a new leaf, and break yourself of the 
 only fault that I have hitherto been able to perceive 
 in you. 
 
 ' It is not that which you lay to your own charge, 
 but rather just the reverse. You talk of distrusting 
 yourself, and this is evidently a cause of real unhappi- 
 ness to you. But the fact is that you trust yourself a 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 101 
 
 great deal too mucli, while exactly in the same degree 
 you distrust all your best friends. Will you never be 
 persuaded to rely a little less upon your own judgment 
 and to place a little more confidence in theirs? Is it 
 not presumptuous to set up your own opinion against 
 one in which they are unanimously opposed to it ? 
 
 ' Why will you think so lightly of them as not to 
 give them credit for being able to discern your charac- 
 ter better than you can yourself ? Is it not universally 
 admitted that to know one's self is the most diiEcuIt of 
 all things, and that if we differ in our appreciation from 
 those who have the best opportunities of knowing what 
 we really are, it is quite certain that they are in the 
 right and we in the wrong? Why will you insist on 
 making yourself out to be an exception to the general 
 rule, and keep on suspecting and accusing yourself, 
 when all your friends are thoroughly agreed that they 
 know of no one more deserving of their love and 
 honor? .... Now do listen to my paternal admoni- 
 tions; correct this fault, be a little more humble and 
 modest, think better of your friends, and submit to 
 their judgment — trust your own only so far as it agrees 
 with theirs. You will certainly be rewarded for this 
 improvement in your conduct by a notable increase of 
 tranquillity and cheerfulness in your view both of the 
 past and of the future ;*and in the hope that you will 
 be buxom and good, I conclude my New Year's Lec- 
 ture 
 
 'I have now again the pleasure of seeing youthful 
 faces about me, there being eight of John's children in 
 the house. Unhappily my deafness prevents me from 
 enjoying much of, their prattle. Just now we had a 
 band of singers, who always come to regale my ears on 
 
102 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 New Year's morning ; but, though they were within a 
 few yards of the window, I could not catch the faintest 
 sound, and if I had not seen them should have had no 
 suspicion of their presence ' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 3 Jan., 1867. 
 
 ' I send this to introduce some of the passengers who 
 are to travel by the box. The one that I wish to com- 
 mend to your earliest notice is Eugenie de Guerin. 
 The journal passed through twelve editions in a very 
 short time. It was described by the " Edinburgh Re- 
 view " as " the outpouring of one of the purest and most 
 saintly minds that ever existed upon earth." It, or at 
 least Eugenie, is the subject of one of Matthew Arnold's 
 " Essays," in which he expresses the warmest admira- 
 tion for her .genius as well as her character. It is 
 therefore absolutely necessary that you should form her 
 acquaintance. I think you will share this feeling, though 
 it cannot be either expected or desired that you should 
 sympathize with all the expressions of her piety. If 
 you feel sufficient interest in the journal to wish to 
 know more of her and hers, I have a volume of her 
 letters, and the " Remains " of her Jirother Maurice. 
 
 ' You ought also to know Sainte-Beuve. Matthew 
 Arnold — no mean judge — looks up to him as "the 
 prince of critics." I have always found his " Causeries " 
 (of which there are many volumes) perfectly delicious 
 sketches of men and books. 
 
 ' You will probably find Dumas' " Impressions de 
 Voyages," which is part of a voluminous series, amusing 
 enough to carry you through both the volumes ; but if 
 you should read no other part, you must not fail to look 
 
LETTEES TO A FRIEND. 103 
 
 for a sermon about St. Joseph, whicli you will find near 
 the end of the second volume. 
 
 ' I send the first volume of Mignet's " Notices His- 
 toriques," because while there is a' good deal of inter- 
 esting biography, they are, perhaps, the most finished 
 specimen of highly polished French prose. I had 
 been long in possession of them, but had not opened 
 them until Mrs. Austin happened to speak of them 
 as perfect models of style, and I have read them with 
 a very lively relish. Vol. II. contains a " Life of 
 Franklin." 
 
 ' This reminds me of Jesse, whose first volume I 
 send, having read it, on the whole, with great pleasure. 
 I think I observe a little improvement in the style, or 
 else the interest of the narrative makes one overlook its 
 defects. It supplies the flesh and blood to the dry 
 skeleton of the merely political history, and at the same 
 time often reveals the hidden springs of great events 
 as it unfolds the personal character of the actors. I 
 think it gives a fairer estimate of the character of 
 George III. than I have seen elsewhere. But that fatal 
 folly of the American war casts a deep gloom over the 
 whole period. 
 
 ' The " Colonna Infame " is a supplemental episode 
 of the " Promessi Sposi." It is a tragical and most sad' 
 history, but exceedingly interesting and instructive. 
 It is a signal illustration of three distinct stages in the 
 progress of human folly : 1, the beginning, an utterly 
 false impression passively received from some accidental 
 association ; 2, the harboring of the delusion without 
 any attempt at investigation, and adopting it as if it 
 had the certainty of a mathematical proof; 3, the 
 climax and consummation, in which the idle fancy 
 
104 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 becomes a ground for the perpetration of the most 
 enormous crimes. 
 
 ' The " M^moires d'un Protestant condamn^ aux 
 Galores " have all the air of reality. It was only after 
 I had read them, with much interest, and without any 
 misgiving, that I had a doubt of their genuineness. 
 But I believe it is still only a doubt, and does not afEect 
 the reality of the condition described. You will also, I 
 think, be interested in the " M^moires de Madame de 
 Noailles," which are of unquestionable reality. In the 
 conversation in the shades between Machiavel and Mon- 
 tesquieu you will find a satire on the Second Empire which 
 has not often been equalled for keenness and polish. 
 
 ' I do not know whether you have read About's 
 "Maitre Pierre," or the "L^gende Celtique," or "R^cits 
 Bretons," or Souvestre's " Chroniques de la Mer," or 
 " Romans de la Table Ronde." If you have, stop it, 
 and I will try something else in its stead, or at least 
 lighten the box of it. 
 
 ' In the third volume of Henri Martin, you will find, 
 beside the part relating to Celtic literature, many very 
 romantic passages of medieval history. It is one of 
 sixteen volumes of about the same bulk. 
 
 ' Finally, I insert two books which I wish you to 
 keep for my sake. The " Guesses at Truth " will tell 
 their own story in the fly-leaf and the Memoir, which is 
 written by Professor Plumptre. The " Antiquities of 
 Llandegai " I only send because, through some hallu- 
 cination, I subscribed for two copies, and I do not see 
 your name in the list of subscribers. Remember that 
 I do not want you to read all this boxful, but only to 
 sip and taste, and lay aside whatever you do not relish, 
 and, where you like the sample, call for more. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 105 
 
 'Pray keep yourself warm. I cannot. This frost 
 is too sharp to be enjoyable by me. I hope you will 
 thaw it at home. 
 
 ' . . . . The box is to go to-day by train to . I 
 
 send the key in another envelope. You will find at the 
 top a copy of my Swansea address, which I received 
 after my last letter. I return that of the Bishop of 
 
 . It would have been quite safe with me if it had 
 
 contained the gravest secrets of state, for I cannot de- 
 cipher a single entire sentence, not even the verses with 
 the help of the metre and the rhyme. What wisdom 
 Lord Palmerston showed in attaching so much im- 
 portance to a legible hand ! How much precious 
 time it spares I How much painful fretting it pre- 
 vents! . . . .' 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 12 Jan., 1867. 
 
 ' . . . . Within th« last thirty or forty hours our 
 weather has passed through three or four changes : from 
 temperate cold to severe frost, from frost to pretty 
 heavy snow, but with great mitigation of the cold. 
 Now the sun seems to have half a mind to come out, 
 and help the earth off with her white sheet. But when 
 I recollect my sufferings of last week and that you 
 shared them, I do not feel easy about the issue. 
 
 ' I am cradling myself — according to the happy 
 French phrase — in the hope of seeing you. I long for 
 your next, and yet shall open it with trembling, lest it 
 should dissolve my enchanting view into thin cold air, 
 and leave me in the state of a traveller whose mirage 
 has turned out to-be a parched waste.' 
 
 5* 
 
106 ' BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ' Abebgwili Palaoe, 14 Jan., 1867. 
 
 ' How very lucky it is that you discovered your mis- 
 take, which I had not perceived. If you had come the 
 wrong day you would have afforded great pleasure to 
 me, but would not have received so much yourself. I 
 
 was well aware of the approaching festivities at A . 
 
 That was just the cause of my asking you for the week 
 after. I hope it will be all the better for being late, 
 and that both you and your father will be all the fitter 
 for travelling. The weather, however, though piercingly 
 cold, is not I think unhealthy for travelling with good 
 wraps in the middle of the day. When once you have 
 crossed my threshold it will be my business to watch 
 over you and your father, to prevent, if possible, a 
 breath of cold air from reaching you, if any should then 
 be blowing. I rather rejoice in the present frost, bitter 
 as it is, because it is so much the less likely to last to 
 the end of the month. I feel it now for you more than 
 for myself. I think I am getting inured to it. The 
 icy plunging-bath which I take every morning is, I 
 believe, the best safeguard from cold. At least, what 
 used at one time to befall me regularly every year 
 is now a thing of very rare occurrence and very 
 
 short continuance Still I must own that at 
 
 this moment my fingers are complaining of the cold. 
 I bid them consider who it is they are writing to, 
 and that they ought to be all of a glow. They reply 
 that I give them nothing to say. I tell them that 
 you have the art of reading the writer's mind out of 
 
 nothing 
 
 . 'I know you are on an angel's errand at , 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 107 
 
 pouring balm into an afflicted soul. What a privilege 
 to be sure that you bring joy or comfort wherever 
 you go.' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 16 Jan., 1867. 
 
 ' ' I am by no means a rigid Sabbatarian, or in any 
 way a Judaiser. On the contrary, I believe that infinite 
 mischief has been and is done by the Puritanical ob- 
 servance of the Sabbath enforced on the unwilling, 
 especially the young, whom I believe it has often 
 entirely alienated from religion, and driven by the 
 recoil into evil courses. At the same time, personally, 
 I enjoy the Sabbatical stillness and rest, which I value 
 specially as a holiday from letter-writing. If letter- 
 writing is a breach of the Sabbath, I can take no 
 credit to myself for eschewing the offence, as it is one 
 I am not at all " inclined to," and therefore could not 
 
 honestly condemn others who have a mind to it 
 
 ' But how is it that your conscience does not smite 
 you for the breach of another commandment, quite as 
 sacred, when you wantonly charge me, at least by 
 designing insinuation, with want of 'prudence — and 
 that only because you are sure that I have taken cold ? 
 You really ought to beware of abusing your gift of 
 second sight; you do not know how dangerous it may 
 be. Before I read your letter, I was quite unconscious 
 of having taken any cold; but, seeing the confidence 
 with which you affirmed the fact, I began to feel a 
 superstitious doubt whether I had, or had not, a cold 
 upon me. Considering the state of the weather, one 
 may easily mistake cold for a cold. I claim no merit 
 for taking care of myself in this weather, as it is the 
 
108 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 simple effect of my love of warmth, which I am glad 
 you share with me. 
 
 ' I am so glad that you like what you have seen of 
 Eugenie. Her letters, which I am still reading, are, 
 perhaps, even more delightful than the journal, though 
 that, as you see, is in fact a series of letters to a single 
 correspondent. One thing that is very pleasing is the 
 view they give of French country life in an old manor- 
 house in Languedoc, inhabited by an old family in 
 reduced circumstances, which oblige the daughters to 
 take part in the homeliest details of housekeeping, 
 while yet they cultivate and intensely enjoy the most 
 delicate pleasures of the mind and the heart. Eugenie 
 is a truly heavenly-minded person, whose religion is of 
 the kind described by St. James, manifesting itself in 
 the continual exercise of the tenderest affections to- 
 wards all around her, and in incessant labors of love. 
 You will also sympathize, as few can do, with her love 
 of nature, and her keen perception and enjoyment of 
 all its beauties. Do not omit to send me bulletins of 
 your father's health ' 
 
 ' Abbrgwili Palace, 26 Jan., 1867. 
 ' .... I am glad that you were able to take part 
 
 in the festivities of A without being knocked up 
 
 by them. Sometimes I believe an extraordinary exer- 
 tion is a cure for weakness. Some years ago I had a 
 cat who was reduced to the very last stage of inanition 
 and debility. As a last chance I sent her into Carmar- 
 then in a basket for medical advice. On the way she 
 took fright at something or other, jumped out of the 
 basket, and scampered some distance before she was 
 caught. That effort and shock saved her life. From 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 109 
 
 that moment, without any other perceptible cause, she 
 began to recover, and lived many years after. 
 
 ' I hope that on your return home you will find your 
 father quite restored^ and continue to receive good ac- 
 counts of poor . I have myself a dread of surgical 
 
 operations like Sir Robert Peel's, so that I cannot bear 
 to think of them, and cases which I sometimes hear of, 
 of cruelty to animals, haunt me and disturb my rest. 
 Good-by.' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 28 Jam., 1867. 
 
 ' . . . . Mr. Vaux is the Honorary Secretary of the 
 Royal Society of Literature, of which I have for many 
 years had the honor to be President. His title of Secre- 
 tary, however, can give but a very faint idea of the 
 services he renders to that Society. He is its very life 
 and soul. It was at and through its meetings that 
 I formed his acquaintance, which is now of long stand- 
 ing, and has ripened into great familiarity, not to say 
 friendship. 
 
 ' It was at a meeting of the Council of that Society, 
 now, I think, about two years ago .... I happened, 
 d propos of some Italian MSS. which had been laid on 
 the table, to say that I had two or three. Mr. Vaux 
 pricked up his ears, and expressed curiosity to know 
 more about them, which was increased when I informed 
 
 him that two of them related to the Levant I 
 
 promised to give him a further account of them ; and 
 I did so in a letter, in which I described their general 
 contents and condition, which I will now repeat, that 
 it may be kept on record. One, which was in perfect 
 condition, and had been somewhat richly bound, was 
 a small quarto or large octavo, entitled " II Sacco di 
 
110 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 Roma," and contained a description of that event by 
 an eye-witness, together with some later portions of 
 Florentine history, in a very fair clear hand. The 
 second was a small folio in vellum, containing an 
 account of the island of Cerigo, anciently Cythera (at 
 the southern point of the Morea), compiled by an 
 officer of the Venetian Government when Venice was 
 mistress of the Morea, partly from the Greek topog- 
 rapher Pausanias, but with observations of his own. 
 The third was by far the most valuable, being a large 
 and thick folio, containing a very elaborate description 
 and history of Scio (the isle of Chios) by a member of 
 the great family of the Giustiniani — the same which 
 sent one of its number in command of the Genoese 
 auxiliaries to the siege of Constantinople, where he 
 was mortally wounded ; and, as you may see in Gib- 
 bon, thereby occasioned or hastened the fall of the 
 city. This MS. is not in so fair a hand as the others. 
 Some of the pages also have been stained, and towards 
 the end there is a hiatus of several pages. The bind- 
 ing was in a wretched pickle. But the contents were 
 extremely curious and interesting, comprising minute 
 descriptions of buildings and objects which have long 
 disappeared ; and, among other things, settling a doubt 
 which Gibbon had no means of clearing up, as to the 
 place where the old Giustiniani died — not at Galata, 
 but at Scio, then and long after a Genoese possession. 
 I was in hopes that there might be a copy of this work 
 in the Library of the British Museum, and that with 
 its aid I might be able to have the hiatus filled up. I 
 learnt, however, from Mr. Vaux, that there was none. 
 I have reason to believe that it must be a very scarce 
 book, for it is mentioned in the Appendix to Daru's 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. HI 
 
 " Histoire de Venise " that there is a French translation 
 of it only in the Royal Library at Turin.' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 31 Jan., 1867. 
 
 ' . . . . Did you know that my birthday was to be 
 solemnized in London by a great Reform demonstra- 
 tion ? You are one of the very few who have a right to 
 be in that secret, as I am sure that you will think of me 
 on that day ' 
 
 'Abekgwili Palace, 3 Feb., 1867. 
 
 ' .... I dare say you will not have failed to ob- 
 serve exultingly the Sabbatical date of this letter. But 
 do not suppose that 1 am authorizing any breach of 
 any commandment. I am doing nothing that I could 
 not defend against the sternest Puritanical casuist. 
 When I am writing to you I am no more doing any 
 " manner of work " than he is when he raises a wine- 
 glass to his lips, and he would hardly have the face to 
 say that the end of his action was a more spiritual 
 
 kind of enjoyment I hope, however, this time 
 
 to be able to tell you how the Queen looks, and if she 
 should read her Speech that will be the best chance I 
 can have of hearing it. I received an invitation to a 
 grand banquet to be given by the Salters' Company 
 on a rather singular occasion — viz. the admission of 
 the Archbishop of Armagh to the freedom of the Com- 
 pany — by what merits earned I have not the remotest 
 idea. But I felt that I had no right to inflict my deaf- 
 ness on others, and that to sit four or five hours, trying 
 to catch sounds which I could not hear, would be a 
 very unpleasant waste of time. My only comfort is 
 the dumb companion which speaks to the eye. Your 
 
112 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 journal brings me back to scenes which once delighted 
 me. I remember the magnificent road from Turin to 
 Torea, and from Aosta to Courmayeur. But surely the 
 trees were walnuts ? I have still in my mind the con- 
 trast between their greenness and the snowy peaks 
 which ever and anon one saw through them.' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Stebet, 7 Feb., 1867. 
 
 ' . . . . Jn the evening I went to hear what I 
 could of the Debate on the Address ; and little enough 
 it was, though I sat very near to the Lord Chancellor 
 when he read the Speech. I could not even make out 
 the topics. Still less could I follow Lord Russell or 
 even Lord Derby. But yesterday, after a long speU 
 of rain and close weather, we had a high and dry 
 wind, and this morning I hear sounds which before that 
 change would have been quite inaudible : and I thus 
 have hopes that I may derive some at least temporary 
 benefit from my emersion out of the damp heavy atmos- 
 phere of Abergwili, which I know contributes to make 
 my hearing duller than it would be elsewhere, so that 
 I have a chance of gaining by every change of place ; 
 and yet, on the other hand, it is a great sacrifice to me 
 to leave home for any other. 
 
 ' How shall I thank you for your sweet letter? 
 I feel all your kindness at the core of my heart. I 
 shall read the letters with interest, though slowly, as 
 always with MSS. as coming from one who loved you : 
 though this is a privilege which he shared with all 
 
 who ever had the happiness of knowing you I 
 
 am rather in luck in one respect. I see by the paper 
 that Beales's people are to meet on Monday at the 
 Duke of York's column. It happens that from my 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 113 
 
 balcony I command the wtole area where they are to 
 "treat the members of the different clubs with such 
 demonstrations as may be fitting," and may witness 
 them without the slightest trouble or risk. Till the 
 next, all blessings be with you ' 
 
 ' 1 Ebgent Stkebt, 19 Feb., 1867. 
 
 ' . . . . When I was writing yesterday I forgot 
 what I had said about the birthday procession. I had 
 no need to go on to the balcony or to open my window, 
 for one branch of the procession defiled immediately 
 under it, down Regent Street, on its way to Trafalgar 
 Square, while from another window I could see the 
 main body as it issued from Pall Mall East on its march 
 westward. That ' which I saw nearest was probably a 
 fair sample of the whole, and, having been an eye- 
 witness, I was amused with the different accounts of 
 the thing which were given by persons who viewed it- 
 with different feelings. Some were impressed with the 
 " determined look " of the men, while to the " Saturday 
 Review " it presented the aspect of a " shabby, dis- 
 pirited, and silent procession." In those that I saw 
 there was as little token of " determination " as of low 
 spirits, and it struck me that they were, in general, 
 dressed rather above than below their condition. But 
 the " silence " was, indeed, only broken by iristrumental 
 
 music ' 
 
 '1 Regent Steeet, 23 Feb., 1867. 
 
 'I deeply feel the sweet sentiment which disposes 
 you to be " almost satisfied " with such a page as you 
 describe ; ^ but I could not, and I think ought not, to 
 
 1 A suggestion that the Bishop should not trouble himself by writing 
 a long letter. 
 
114 BISHOP THIRL WALL'S 
 
 bring myself to write such a nominal letter 
 
 Your suggestion reminds me of the last picture in 
 " Fun." A number of M.P.s, with Bright and Russell 
 at their head, are thronging with eager curiosity to 
 look at a large picture of Reform in a magnificent 
 frame. Disraeli is standing on the other side, and, 
 with great solemnity and earnestness, is drawing aside 
 a curtain, which reveals a perfectly blank canvas, which 
 he invites them to fill up as they think best. (Here 
 I am forced to go out. On my return.) But was I 
 forced ? That is a knotty metaphysical question. I was 
 only forced so far as I had previously made up my 
 mind to go and see the designs for the new Law 
 Courts at Lincoln's Inn, and this was the last day and 
 the last hour for seeing them. That was the motive, 
 and it prevailed, with the less reluctance as I thought 
 you might like to hear a little about them. They are 
 all gigantic, and I suppose the plainest would cost three 
 or four times the two-thirds of a million now allotted to 
 them. Scott's were, perhaps, the most sumptuous, but 
 the least practical, not only on account of the enormous 
 expense of the execution, but also on account of the 
 exceeding richness and delicacy of the ornaments, all 
 of which would be inevitably effaced by the soot of a 
 single winter. I think, on the whole, I was rather 
 inclined in favor of ' Street's, which had been evidently, 
 and I think happily, affected by his study of the Spanish 
 architecture, manifesting itself in a plain and massive 
 style which I thought well suited to the purpose of the 
 
 building 
 
 ' The moment before I sallied out arrived a parcel 
 which I hastily opened and found the — I was going to 
 say — enclosed letter from Mrs. Austin. For I found 
 
LETTERS TO A FEIEND. 115 
 
 one from her of which I only read the first sentence, 
 which announced that the parcel was for the " charm- 
 ing ." Now will you believe such a misery ? but I 
 
 have been hunting in vain for the letter, and cannot 
 enclose it. The parcel is a Welsh Bible, "which was 
 found on the beach at Boulogne a few days after the 
 wreck of the Amphitrite convict ship, in which more 
 than a hundred women under sentence of transportation 
 perished." ' 
 
 ' St. DavidHs Day, 1 Regent Street, 1867. 
 
 ' I was not able yesterday even to open your letter 
 — which I reserved to refresh me after the morning's 
 work — before post time, as I lost the whole forenoon 
 for practical purposes, though otherwise, by no means 
 unpleasantly, and what remained was barely sufficient 
 for the most indispensable despatches. Did you ever 
 breakfast in London? or, in other words, go out to a 
 London breakfast? Very few ladies do, and therefore 
 it is not unlikely that you never did. In fact, the 
 number of people who give them is very small, and has 
 in my own time been sadly reduced by the departure of 
 Rogers, Hallam, and Macaulay. But Milnes still con- 
 tinues to give breakfasts, and his were always among 
 the pleasantest, partly from his knowing everybody, 
 and partly from his fancy for bringing the apparently 
 most incongruous people together — as I once met an i 
 officer in the Egyptian service who was a French rene- 
 gade. It was with him I spent my forenoon. The 
 party consisted entirely of men, all more or less of 
 mark. I am grieved to find that the shock from the 
 fire at Crewe has permanently affected Lady Houghton's 
 health, so as to cause the greatest uneasiness. Among 
 
116 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 the party were two Americans, both agreeable, and one, 
 whose name you-may have heard — Bayard Taylor — of 
 some distinction as a traveller and a poet. There was 
 also a young peer. Lord Wentworth, who possesses the 
 
 interest of being Lord Byron's grandson I had 
 
 seen very little of him before, and I did not hear him 
 say anything at breakfast ; but, as we were leaving the 
 house at the same time and going the same way, we 
 walked together as far as my hotel, engaged in the 
 most earnest conversation on the subject of Ritualism, 
 which he opened almost the moment we set out, and 
 pursued with great eagerness, not without ability, though 
 many of his notions needed correction. I wonder what 
 his grandfather would have thought if he could have 
 heard it ! . . ., . 
 
 'I am perplexed by a mystery in which I suspect 
 you to have had some part. What other good fairy 
 could have sent me the present which I received yester- 
 day afternoon, of a long, low, light box, which, on open- 
 ing it, I found to contain — a splendid leek. I shall 
 certainly wear it this evening, and hope I shall not be 
 singular, but hardly think many others will be able to 
 show anything so handsome ^ 
 
 1 ' The Britains on this day (St. David's Day) constantly wear a leek, 
 in memory of a famous and notable viotoiy obtained by them over the 
 Saxons; they during the battel, having leeks in their hats for their mili- 
 tary colours and distinction of themselves, by the persuasion of the said 
 Prelate, St. David.' — Ecclesia Gevians, 1677. 
 
 In 1346 the battle of Cressy was fought, where the Welsh acquired 
 great fame for their brave achievements in support of Edward, the 
 Black Prince. It was at this time that Captain Cadwgan Voel called 
 to the Welsh, desiring them to put leeks in their helmets, the battle 
 there being in a field of leeks ; and when they looked about, they 
 were all Welshmen in that locality except 130 ; and it was from this 
 circumstance that the Welsh took to wearing leeks. — Andeni Welsh 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEm). 117 
 
 ' . . . . To-morrow I go by appointment with Mr. 
 Vaux to the British Museum, to see the Blacas collec- 
 tion of gems — one of the very few subjects on which 
 Gladstone and Disraeli were unanimous. That re- 
 minds me that on the 25th ult. I worked my way 
 through the most fearful crush, perhaps, ever known in 
 the lobby of the House of Commons, to a seat under 
 the gallery, and heard Disraeli, Lowe, Bright, and 
 Gladstone. Disraeli spoke as from an uneasy con- 
 sciousness, and received no encouragement from his 
 friends. Lowe's speech was sparkling with no doubt 
 carefully prepared but happy points, which provoked 
 much laughter; but he certainly did not sit down, as 
 the " Times " reported, amid loud cheers. They were 
 few and faint, and, I imagine, presented a strong con- 
 trast to the enthusiasm with which he was greeted last 
 year. Bright's voice appeared to be out of order, but 
 his speech was a fair sample of his style of eloquence. 
 I was struck by one thing : that during Lowe's speech, 
 and before, when Disraeli said several things with 
 which the House was much amused. Bright never 
 for a moment relaxed his severe features into a smile. 
 .... There is an evident beginning of divergence 
 between him and Gladstone, which must go on widen- 
 ing 
 
 ' Landseer's lions are very splendid creatures — real, 
 not conventional. They improve the whole aspect 
 of the square immensely. It is said there is to be 
 another Reform gathering there to-morrow. I hope no 
 damage will be done to the lions. They are too good 
 
 Mamtscripts, collected by the late Edward Williams lolo Morganwg (trans- 
 lation). 
 
118 BISHOP THIEL WALL'S 
 
 not to provoke attacks, and hardly seem to be sufficiently- 
 protected. 
 
 ' One of the persons I met last night was the poet 
 Browning. I was amused to find that he has a pet owl 
 who is inseparable from him. He gave a very enter- 
 taining description of his struggles to reach his own 
 house after dining out on the night when every street 
 in London was a sheet of the smoothest ice, and only 
 four cabs, as the drivers asserted, in circulation ' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 2 March, 1 867. 
 
 '. . . . I am de retour from the Museum, where 
 Vaux showed me the Blacas colleption. But I have not 
 carried away much that could be interesting or useful 
 to you, unless it be a warning not to invest large sums 
 of money in the purchase of ancient gems. It seems 
 there are two or three places in Germany where they 
 are manufactured in great numbers, so skilfully as to 
 deceive the most experienced connoisseurs. One main 
 element in the value of the Blacas collection is its un- 
 questionable genuineness. Most of the objects have 
 been long known and described. The largest and most 
 precious are few in number. Their beauty must strike 
 every eye, but of course cannot be conveyed by any 
 description. The finest of all is a cameo, a head of 
 Augustus. It was encircled in the Byzantine period 
 with a diadem of gems, which, to the taste of the 
 original artist, would no doubt have seemed to dis- 
 figure it, as the metal crowns, which you know the 
 Jesuits are in the habit of fixing on painted heads of 
 the Madonna. The smaller pieces are at present so 
 placed that they cannot be clearly seen without being 
 taken out and brought near to the eye. 
 
LETTEES TO A FEIEND. 119 
 
 ' There are also some curious silver vessels adorned 
 witli groups of figures, of late workmanship, supposed 
 to be nuptial presents. There was also one case of gold 
 articles of dress.' ^ 
 
 •Abbegwili Palace, 18 March, 1867. 
 
 ' I now breathe again a little, the white-robed ones 
 having taken flight. I now want very much to hear that 
 you have returned home safe and sound, though it will 
 be little short of a miracle if you have escaped through 
 such a week .... without catching cold. I have not 
 escaped myself, and the only wonder is that any one not 
 made of cast iron, should. As I stood in front of the 
 east window of the church I felt a torrent of cold air 
 rushing in, and thought that some pane must have been 
 broken. I afterwards felt the severity of the blast as I 
 was feeding my geese — a duty which is most indispen- 
 sable when the state of the weather renders it most 
 unpleasant ; but as my head was covered I do not attrib- 
 ute the result to this, but rather, if it was of any use 
 to guess, to the blow in church. The cold declared 
 itself only as I was sitting down to dinner. My chap- 
 lain exhibited five homoeopathic globules to me before 
 bedtime. Possibly they have done me some good, 
 
 ^ ' The Blacas Museum, purchased at Paris in the month of ITovemher, 
 1866, was principally formed by the father of the late Duke de Blacas, 
 who was French Ambassador at Rome, and at Naples for many years, 
 and who was distinguished for his knowledge of ancient art .... 
 gems. This cabinet has been known to connoisseurs for many years as 
 one of the finest private collections in Europe. It was principally 
 formed by the purchase of the chief part of the Strozzi cabinet, and of 
 the collections of Dr. Bartle, physician to the Emperor Joseph II., and 
 of Baron della Turbie. Nearly all the most valuable gems in the Blacas 
 Museum come from the Strozzi cabinet, which was formed at Rome 
 more than a century ago.' — A Guide to the Blacas Collection of Antiqui- 
 ties. 0, T. Newton. 
 
120 BISHOP THIELW ALL'S 
 
 though I have not got rid of the cold. My hope is 
 that it may serve for both of us. 
 
 'During these dreadful bitter gales I cannot help 
 thinking of poor souls who are struggling with them at 
 sea, in terror for their lives, which alone diverts the 
 sense of intense bodily suffering. 
 
 ' I also return the " Tichbourne Dole." ^ It need 
 not be the less historically exact, because there are, I 
 believe, a good many such stories illustrating the peril 
 of sacrilegious confiscation of Church property. A per- 
 son of ' a sceptical turn might odiously suspect that, 
 though the main facts are true, the " prophecy " may 
 have been antedated. And I suppose there are nowa- 
 days people who would go the length of raising the 
 question whether Lady Mabel's genuvagations gave the 
 land its name, or the name -^perhaps through a false 
 spelling — suggested the legend. Let us, my dearest, 
 beware of so picking such tender flowers to pieces as to 
 lose all their beauty and fragrance, and keep nothing 
 but a handful of dry yellow leaves. Your ghost story 
 
 is very good, and I would swear to it I have 
 
 been reading over your letters of the last fortnight 
 again. They are so full of pleasant things that I can 
 hardly touch on all of them. I never saw that daughter 
 of Lord Lovelace, nor, as far as I know, himself. Many 
 years ago I was on a visit at Ockham to the old Lord 
 King, who was a very agreeable, and, I believe, a kind- 
 hearted man. Lord Lovelace was at that time iu 
 Greece, taking part, I believe, in the War of Indepen- 
 dence ; and I remember he had sent several Greek 
 newspapers home. But his father did not at all sym- 
 pathize wit?h his Philhellenic enthusiasm, and thought 
 ^ Appendix D. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND; 121 
 
 it was thrown away You probably know that 
 
 Lady Lovelace for a long while enjoyed the credit of 
 being the author of " Vestiges of Creation." 
 
 ' May not the crow who was the object of that com- 
 bined attack from his fellows have been previously hurt 
 and helpless? — a condition which is supposed to pro- 
 voke hostility among several of the lower tribes of 
 animals, if not sometimes among certain classes of 
 the human race. I remembered " Clear and Cool," 
 though I could not have said where I had read it. I 
 
 am quite as curious as to know what songs you 
 
 actually sang after all 
 
 ' I wish with all my heart that I had a British coin 
 which would confute that abominable theory ^ which 
 excites your just indignation. One could almost find 
 in one's heart to manufacture one for the purpose. 
 But the fact is, that I am in a state of shameful igno- 
 rance with regard to coins, especially those of Britain. 
 
 ' Yes. I saw the eclipse very well, though not 
 better than the preceding one, which was rather more 
 striking as to the chiaro-oscuro. What a long time 
 has gone by since I saw an annular eclipse — I believe 
 a very rare phenomenon — at Strasburg ! I think it was 
 in 1822 or 1823. 
 
 ' As you expressed a wish to know what I had said 
 on St. David's Day, I send a report which has come 
 this morning. I do it partly for my own sake, because 
 you might have received it from some other quarter, 
 and I should have been sorry that you should have 
 supposed I had uttered the nonsense of the concluding 
 
 * The theory that no British coins have been found west of the 
 Severn. 
 
 6 
 
122 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 sentences. But thereby hangs a tale, which I must 
 not suppress, though it is not flattering to my self-love. 
 The part relating to the Church was listened to pa- 
 tiently and with solne appearance of interest ; but when 
 I entered on the topic of the Church in Wales, cries 
 arose from the farther part of the room of " Time ! 
 Time ! " meaning that I was taking up too much. You 
 will of course believe that they were the effect of im- 
 patience, not on the part of those who heard, but of 
 those who could not hear. You may also attribute it 
 to the general eagerness for the procession of the chil- 
 dren, which was to begin next. I know that your 
 hypothesis, whatever it may be, will be that which will 
 most soothe my self-complacency. The effect, however, 
 was that the first part of the speech, which could not 
 altogether have taken up more than three minutes, is 
 reported correctly enough, with the exception of two 
 absurd epithets, while the end is a ^mass of non- 
 sense 
 
 ' Yesterday there was an evident struggle between 
 Wind and Snow — Wind acting as policeman, and saying 
 in a very gruff voice, " Snow, you must keep off." One 
 therefore supposed that when notwithstanding Snow 
 came down it would bring Wind down with it. But 
 lo ! Snow has come down with Wind on its back. How 
 am I to get to my geese ? I know what you think of 
 my going to them on such a day. But when, if not 
 now, can they be glad to see me and miss my coming 
 more? 
 
 ' I am reading two books which you must read some 
 time or other — Massimo d'Azeglio's autobiography, "I 
 miei Ricordi," and Dixon's " New America," which is 
 intensely interesting and quite admirably written.' 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 123 
 
 'Abergwih Palace, 19 March, 1867. 
 ' .... I am glad that I wrote to you yesterday, 
 for the object of this note is really nothing better 
 than an apology in anticipation. Is it not very 
 provoking, but it is the fact, that before I have 
 received the proofs of my pamphlet in defence of my 
 charge, I have been obliged to put another on the 
 stocks, on a different though kindred subject. I hope 
 it may prove very short, but when once one begins such 
 a thing, there is no saying to what length it may run, 
 as I am so constituted that, until it is finished, I can 
 turn my mind to nothing else except absolutely neces- 
 sary business ' 
 
 'Abekgwili Palace, 21 March, 1867. 
 ' You will have been reassured by the report I sent 
 as to the last instance of my supposed imprudence. 
 But for your further comfort let me remind you that it 
 was nothing new, but that I have been addicted to the 
 same habit for many years, and doing the same thing 
 for many winters, and in more severe weather than 
 that of this March, and not only without any harm, 
 but with great benefit, of which I am sure you would 
 not wish to deprive me by inducing me to take any 
 rash vow. There have been days out of number when, 
 if it had not been for the sake of my geese, I should 
 not have stirred out of doors, and should have lost the 
 exercise which has no doubt contributed to my health 
 and vigor, and has lengthened my life. When you 
 think of my geese as creatures to which I am indebted 
 for such benefits, you will feel that I cannot do too much 
 for them. Fresh snow is beginning to fall, though the 
 old is lying in large patches. Addio, Carissima ! ' 
 
124 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ' liody Day, Abekowili Palace. 
 
 ' I have, thank God, got rid of my second pamphlet, 
 and so feel as if I was enjoying a holiday, though in 
 fact it is only the difference between one kind of work 
 and another; only I always find that anything I am 
 preparing for the press unfits me for any other kind of 
 work. I had no right to complain of attacks on my 
 Charge, as I could not but be conscious that it con- 
 tained things which must be very disagreeable to a 
 great number of people ; and, in fact, I find that I 
 have put my foot into a nest of hornets. 
 
 ' Pray do not abuse the people who cried " Time." 
 It was a voice of nature which they could not suppress ; 
 and they no doubt believed that they were promoting 
 the interest of all present, and, perhaps, were doing so. 
 I had no reason to be dissatisfied with my reception, 
 but, on the contrary, as I followed in the wake of the 
 -royalties down the hall, was surprised to find myself 
 very warmly cheered by a number of persons whose 
 friendly faces were unknown to me, though they were 
 lighted up with manifest enthusiasm at the sight of 
 mine. Also in the crush-room some one equally un- 
 known to me thanked me for my speech, and expressed 
 a hope that it would be reported. That was surely balm 
 enough to heal the wound inflicted on my self-love if 
 I had been more sensitive to such hurts than I am. But 
 the fact is, that the form which my self-love takes is 
 that of pride much more than of vanity. But of this 
 more than enough. 
 
 ' How many escapes you have had for which I 
 ought to be — and am — deeply thankful. I believe 
 your greatest dangers were not in the snowdrifts nor 
 in the inn at , but in the Hall of ^olus. I re- 
 
LETTERS TO A FEIEND'. 125 
 
 member the last time I was there ' — now several years 
 ago .... I suffered great misery from cold, even while 
 standing by a blazing fire, and you mnst have found it 
 in the lowest temperature. From your silence as to this 
 misery I would hope that some means have been found 
 of effectually warming the Hall. 
 
 ' I was very glad indeed to see that account of the 
 Princess of Wales. I had begun to suspect she was 
 worse than it was thought proper to admit. The loss 
 of her would be an irreparable misfortune. How delight- 
 ful is this foretaste of spring. I have often thought 
 of making an excursion to you, but there has always 
 been some reason or other for putting it off to a more 
 convenient season ' 
 
 'Abbegwili Palace, 1 April, 1867. 
 
 ' .... I am much obliged for the sight of that 
 pleasant letter from Henri Martin. I am not yet au 
 eourant of the discoveries to which he alludes in Cam- 
 bodge. What are they, and where is there an account 
 of them to be found ?^ 
 
 'I rejoice that you are perpetuating some of your 
 choicest Italian recollections. I retain a rather livelier 
 image of Lugano than of most parts of the Lake region, 
 having visited it twice : once, when with a party of 
 friends I crossed over to it from the Lake of Como; 
 and again, when having walked through Switzerland 
 from Schaffhausen, crossing the St. Gothard on the 2nd 
 November, and having paced the dreary monotonous 
 valley which ends at Bellinzona with a friend (and 
 
 1 In reference to the discovery of the great city of Angkor, the 
 ancient capital of Camhodia, in what is now the Siamese territory north 
 of the Great Lake. 
 
126 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 servant who acted as pack-horse), our patience, though 
 not our strength, gave way, and at Bellinzona we took 
 a carriage to Lugano, having originally intended to walk 
 to Milan. 
 
 'I do remember having seen marvellous Luinis at 
 Lugano, but that is the only fact I can recall. We 
 did not scale San Salvatore. That Lago di Piano I do 
 not remember to have seen. 
 
 ' I am waiting for the account of your visit to Varese, 
 where the panorama of the Alps, visible from the Monte, 
 impressed me more deeply than any I have ever seen. 
 I saw it both morning and evening, and I do not know 
 which view more took away one's breath. I hope you 
 did not miss it. I cannot give you a stronger proof of 
 my affection than that hope — if it is sincere ; because 
 I dare say yoa know that, when travellers interchange 
 their experience, nothing delights them so much as to 
 find that they have seen something interesting which 
 others lost. It. is not amiable, but it is human nature. 
 
 ' . Why should you suppose that I think you 
 
 superficial, because I consider your reading of my 
 Charge as an act of heroic sacrifice to friendship ? 
 Surely you do not pretend to the privilege of an appe- 
 tite for reading so indiscriminately ravenous, that you 
 never find any dry. I must own that though my own 
 book-hunger is very keen, I cannot say that nothing 
 comes amiss to me, but must own that there are some 
 kinds of books which I find it very hard to read ; and 
 I remember seeing it observed, I think in the " Times," 
 that my Charge was " very hard reading." If you insist 
 upon it that you are equal to any, pray ask your father 
 to let you have Fearne's " Treatise on Contingent Re- 
 mainders," and shut yourself up with it (alone) between 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 127 
 
 breakfast and luncheon. It is considered quite a clas- 
 sical ■woi'k — the most eloquent piece of law in our 
 language. Or ask for " Saunders on Uses," or for the 
 volume of " Comyns' Digest " containing the Law of 
 Real Property. In fact, I would almost consent to test 
 your universality by the second book of Blackstone, 
 though lawyers, I believe, count that almost frivolous 
 reading. Whenever you are able to lay your hand on 
 your heart and declare that you have spent a pleasant 
 morning over any of these productions — I will not even 
 ask you to read through the Church Building Acts, but 
 will admit that I have done you a wrong, and throw 
 myself on your mercy. 
 
 ' As there is evidently nothing of mine which you 
 cannot read, I send you a sermon.' 
 
 • Abbkgwili Palace, 2 April, 1867. 
 
 ' .... I forgot the other day to ask what was the 
 
 book which you heard at I had recommended. I 
 
 like to know what you are doing — at this moment, 
 I hope and trust, taking a drive to enjoy the opening 
 spring ; but particularly what you are reading, and 
 most particularly when it is a book which I may be 
 said indirectly to have put into your hands. Adieu, 
 
 dearest .' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 5 April, 1867. 
 
 ' , J . . With this you will receive my second 
 pamphlet, which I hope will be the last I shall have 
 occasion to write for a long time to come. I send it 
 to your father that he may report upon it, and enable 
 you to judge at what time of the day it is likely to agree 
 with you best. I am glad that my little godson ^ has 
 
 ^ Connop Fitzroy Stewart Perowne. 
 
128 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 the good sense to take after me in any point in which 
 I appear to advantage. But I should have been quite 
 at a loss to account for the peculiar quality you attribute 
 to my smile if my portrait had not cleared up the 
 
 mystery In the last volume of the Camden 
 
 Society there is a portrait of Christina, Queen of 
 Svreden. Is it not odd that it represents her in a 
 regular Welshwoman's hat with a very broad brim? ' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 10 April, 1867. 
 
 ' .... I really cannot approve of your making 
 yourself a martyr by reading or attempting to read 
 that history, which is generally admitted to be /exces- 
 sively dry and hard — worse, if possible, than a Charge. 
 But I am particularly anxious to know whether you 
 have been reading the first edition, as it appeared in 
 " Lardner's Cyclopsedia," or that in eight vols, octavo, 
 which was published afterwards. If it is the former, 
 let me adjure you to lay it aside, and return to the much 
 more pleasant as well as profitable reading of M. Martin's 
 excellent work. If you insisted that you could not be 
 happy without a farther sacrifice to mine, some oppor- 
 tunity may be found, or made, of supplying you with 
 the Library edition, which, especially in some of the 
 later volumes, contains very important additions and 
 corrections, and is the only one I recognize as my work, 
 though God knows I have little reason to be proud 
 of it. 
 
 ' You have so often, in spite of my protestations — 
 which you choose to treat as modesty, when they are 
 simple truth — talked of my memory as superlatively 
 strong, that I must tell you a fact which will dumbfound 
 you on that head. Know, then, that I read that letter 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 129 
 
 from Boulak in " Macmillan "i without the slightest sus- 
 picion that I had ever seen it before, though I felt the 
 like pang for the poor black lamb and its separation 
 from the little white pussy. Go to. I think you will 
 not easily find a " good memory " to match that. But 
 you will be the better prepared for another atrocious 
 blunder which I have just found out. I had intended 
 to send you the number of " Macmillan " containing 
 Max Miiller's paper, which I wished you to read, as 
 you are one of the very few ladies who could read it 
 with interest and pleasure. But when you told me you 
 had received the one containing the Boulak letter, I 
 fancied it was the April number, and was going to ask 
 what you thought of its contents. Now, however, I 
 send it by this post. I think it is in other respects a 
 good number I return Mr. 's letter. I won- 
 der whether you are more annoyed or flattered by 
 his mistake. The surprising thing to me is, not that 
 he should have thought that yours could not be a lady's 
 hand, but that he should have fancied it might be 
 Sir .' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 17 April, 1867. 
 
 ' I do not know how much I shall be able to say, or 
 
 shall be forced to leave unsaid, before post time, and 
 
 therefore begin at the latest and most practical question 
 
 as to my future. Yes ! I do intend to preach at St. 
 
 1 ' The Nile is rising fast. We shall kill the poor little Luxor hlack 
 Iamb on the day of the opening of the Canal, and have a fantasia at night ; 
 only I grieve for my little white pussy, who sleeps every night on Ablook's 
 (the lamb) wooUy neck and loves him dearly. Pussy (biss is Arabic for 
 puss) was the gift of a Coptic boy at Luxor, and is wondrous funny, and 
 as much more active and lissom than an European cat, as an Arab is than 
 an Englishman.' — Longshore Life at Boulak' (a letter), by Lady Duff 
 Gordon. Macmillan' s Magazine, March, 1867. 
 
 6* 
 
130 BISHOP THIKLWALL'S 
 
 Peter's next Sunday; but I strongly advise you to 
 adhere to tlie path of duty, as you may rest assured you 
 will gain nothing by departing from it. And I, who 
 am to supply the motive, ought to know. Next I must 
 try to take o£E the edge of your curiosity by a little 
 account of the past. 
 
 ' On the whole, my second visit was quite as satis- 
 factory, in some respects even more pleasant, than the 
 first, though singularly different in its circumstances. I 
 arrived at six, when the Queen was out for a drive, 
 and expected as usual to dine with the household, the 
 preacher being always invited to the royal table, if at 
 all, for the Sunday. I was therefore much surprised by 
 receiving a message that I was to dine with the Queen 
 that evening. We were nine at table : five of the Royal 
 Family, including the Prince and Princess Christian, 
 Prince Arthur, and Princess Louise, and four guests, 
 Lady Churchill, Countess Bliicher, the Dean of Windsor, 
 and myself. The conversation at dinner was entirely 
 sustained between the Queen and the guests. When 
 the Queen rose she came directly to me, and we had a 
 very long chat, beginning with my Charge, which she 
 had been reading. She then passed to Celtic matters — 
 the visit to Tenby — making me observe how " Arthur " 
 had grown since, and the appropriateness of his name. 
 Then we interchanged information about Celtic dialects ; 
 she was not aware of the exact relation between them ; 
 but in return for the Welsh for Queen was able to tell 
 me the Gaelic, ban-ri, which I did not know, and which 
 she not only knew, but perfectly understood in its ety- 
 mology. She had not been aware that I was able to 
 preach, &c., in Welsh. The first thing I heard at 
 breakfast next morning (after a loud peal in honor 
 
LETTERS TO'A FRIEND. 131 
 
 of the Princess Beatrice's birthday, which Lord J. 
 Manners took for an alarm of fire) was that the Princess 
 C. had been taken ill that night at three, within six 
 hours after I had been at table with her! And we 
 were kept in suspense until five P.M., when it ended 
 happily, as you will have seen. 
 
 ' After breakfast she sent me a message by the Dean 
 of Windsor, that she was very sorry she should not be 
 able to attend the twelve o'clock service, and asking 
 me to send her the MS. of my sermon, which of course 
 I did as soon as it was discharged. The afternoon was 
 very pleasantly divided between the library — magni- 
 ficent oriental MSS. and rare miniatures — St. George's 
 Chapel and a wonderful dramatic anthem — which, 
 though arranged by Dr. Elvey, I believe to be of 
 mediaeval origin, being a musical picture of the Cruci- 
 fixion — a stroll on the terrace, and, finally, the house- 
 hold dinner, where all the people were very pleasant, 
 and aimong the ladies was a sister of Lady Cawdor. We 
 drank the healths of the aunt and nephew. I do not 
 know whether the latter is destined to produce any 
 great convulsions of society ; but it is a fact that his 
 birth was preceded and accompanied by a tempest which 
 forced everybody to walk in the figure of P to prevent 
 ■the severance of the hat from the head. 
 
 ' I must now break off this very rough sketch, and 
 return afterwards to your letters.' 
 
 '18 April, 1867. 
 
 ' . . . . Grote's great work is not less distinguished 
 by extensive and accurate learning, than by depth and 
 originality of thought, and it is very popular with 
 readers who are able to appreciate these qualities 
 
132 BISHOP THIRL WALL'S 
 
 Mr. does not seem to be aware that we have a book 
 
 on Mahomet and Islam far superior to that of Barth^lemy 
 St. Hilaire — Col. Muir's "Life of Mahomet," drawn with 
 great accuracy and judgment from the original sources, 
 to which, I believe, the Frenchman had not access. 
 I think that opinion has veered round from an unjust 
 depreciation to an extravagant and unfounded ad- 
 miration of the Prophet, who was not a Mahometan 
 any more than Wilkes was a Wilkite.' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 24 April, 1867. 
 
 'Pity me, and do not wonder if I am silent for a 
 space. Another attack on poor Charge — this time 
 from the Bishop of Capetown — and requiring a speedy 
 reply. And I engaged to go out to-morrow to preach 
 and sleep in Pembrokeshire, with destruction of two 
 days. 
 
 ' Chaos smiles grimly under your compassionate eye, 
 rejoicing not to be thought utterly odious and frightful. 
 Yet the sight of it makes the Anarch groan, and wish 
 that the beams of that eye could have transformed it 
 into a Kosmos.i Adieu ' 
 
 1 'Who that has seen it will not remember Chaos ? (as he playfully 
 called the library in which he used to sit). Its q^uiet light, its dim 
 recesses, the oat purring on the hearth, the chairs all unavailable until 
 cleared of the hooks and pamphlets with which, like the tables, they 
 were crowded, the drawers full of unan-anged letters, papers, MSS , 
 into which the Bishop, opening them, looked with pitiful and perplexed 
 eyes, yet when offered help would invariably answer, " I can seldom find 
 anything in them now, but if they were set to rights for me I should 
 certainly find nothing then." And, over all» the presence that made 
 peace and pleasantness, the life in its outward seeming eventless, 
 within how eventful?' — Preface to the Volume of Letters edited by 
 the Dean of Peterborough and Mr. Louis Stokes. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 133 
 
 ' Abbkgwili Palace, 29 April, 1867. 
 
 ' Can you set the C. bells a-ringing ? At leaKt wish 
 me joy. I have sent the " Reply " to press. I hope my 
 last pamphlet of this year. 
 
 ' I will say that you are a brave one to stand up for 
 your friends. But you had no doubt forgotten the part 
 of my " Charge " in which I animadverted severely on 
 Capetown's proceedings. It was unavoidable that he 
 should answer me, and equally so that I should reply 
 to him. 
 
 ' The rest hereafter, as I have now no time for 
 
 more ' 
 
 • Abekgwili Palace, 8 May, 1867. 
 
 'You have now fairly earned a full account of all 
 that I did ; ^ and, indeed, it is full time that I should 
 send it, for, with your opinion of my memory, you will 
 hardly believe that I have already forgotten a part of 
 it. I must, however, tell you not only what I did, but 
 what I thought. I was under an impression — which is, 
 perhaps, quite erroneous — that a Welsh nurse, though 
 she might have more relish for poetry than an English 
 one, still would not be likely to enjoy any other than 
 of the plainest kind, such as the " Canwyll Cymru " or 
 
 hymns The reading which is most universally 
 
 enjoyed is, I believe, prose narrative ; and so it occurred 
 to me that I possessed a story which I had read many 
 years ago with some pleasure, entitled " Y Bardd, neu 
 y Meudwy Cymreig," by W. E. Jones (Cawrdaf). This 
 was afterwards inserted in a posthumous edition of his 
 works, which was dedicated to me, with a very hyper- 
 
 1 The Queen desired the Bishop to select and send Welsh hooks for 
 Princess Christian's Welsh nurse. 
 
1 34 BISHOP , THIRL WALL'S 
 
 bolical ode, by the editor, and of which I had more than 
 
 one copy The story I thought she would like. I 
 
 therefore at once sent it off to Windsor by book post, 
 and with it another volume of miscellaneous prose and 
 verse, chiefly because it was dedicated to the Queen and 
 contained a poem on the Princess Victoria. I believed 
 that I had a duplicate of this also, but now I cannot 
 find it; and I have forgotten the title (a fancy one), 
 and am not sure about the author's name, though I 
 think it was Edwardes, and I know he is a clergyman. 
 At the same time I directed Spurrell to make up a 
 parcel containing " Drych y Prif Oesoedd," " Hanes y 
 Ffydd," " Y Bardd Cwsg," and one of the rival transla- 
 tions of " Uncle Tom's Cabin." .... I am rather sorry 
 that I did not add the " Canwyll." .... A native 
 work which was not thoroughly serious, in the sense of 
 having a decided religious tendency, it would, I believe, 
 be difficult to find. The " Bardd Cwsg " is very racy 
 Welsh, with very lively descriptions — the idea probably 
 suggested by Quevedo 
 
 ' I am drawing near the- end of " I miei Ricordi." 
 For a picture of Italian life, and a portrait of a noble 
 Italian mind and character, I know nothing that equals 
 it. I have also a fresh batch of delicious Erckmann- 
 Chatrians, which you must read some of these days. 
 
 ' This morning was so glorious that I actually thought 
 of going out for a drive. It has now clouded over, so 
 that I do not know whether I shall not want an um- 
 brella to visit my geese. Adieu .' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 9 May, 1867. 
 ' This is mainly a despatch on matters of business. 
 First, I have to announce the safe arrival of the " Mac- 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. I35 
 
 millan," and the departure of a copy of my " Reply to 
 the Bishop of Capetown." This is for your father, and 
 it is more in his way than any of the preceding pamph- 
 lets, as it has more to do with law than divinity. You 
 are only to read it if he thinks it will do you good. 
 And then, mind, only on condition that you begin with 
 reading the Bishop of Capetown's letter. Next, pull up 
 your fancy, which is running away with you into all. 
 kinds of sinister passages, in search of some disorder 
 to explain my supposed want of spirits at my great 
 military banquet. I was quite in my best health all 
 the time, and have been ever since. But there were 
 several causes to prevent me from showing any exu- 
 berant flow of spirits. First, I do not know how it 
 may be with others, but for myself a large party, con- 
 sisting in great part of persons whom I never saw 
 before, is not one at which — when I am the host, or 
 even if only one of the guests — my spirits are apt to 
 be most buoyant. Still I was really very much pleased 
 with my company. But, secondly, there was the draw- 
 back that on this occasion, when I had need of my 
 best hearing, I happened to have a deaf fit upon me, 
 and was painfully conscious of the annoyance I was 
 inflicting on Mrs. F. Lloyd Philipps, with whom I 
 chiefly attempted conversation. Then, thirdly, during 
 the whole evening, from the time of going up to the 
 drawing-room after dinner until the departure I was 
 immersed in a brown study, trying first to learn, and 
 then to remember, the names of my guests, especially 
 the ladies, and becoming more and more conscious that 
 it was in vain, and that I must give it up in despair. 
 .... A brown study, I believe, does not make any 
 one look lively. But, fourthly and lastly, but not 
 
136 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 leastly, the playing and singing we had only made 
 me think what a different thing it would have been if 
 you had been there. Any one of these causes would 
 have been sufficient to account for my heaviness. The 
 effect when all were combined must have been over- 
 whelming 
 
 ' Of politics and all other things at a future time.' 
 
 • Abbrgwili Palace, 11 May, 1867. 
 
 ' .... I have not yet heard sweet cuckoo this 
 year. Indeed, though it would have been late enough 
 in the month, it would have been too early in the 
 weather. But it has now cleared up, and I am going 
 out to try whether I can catch the delightful sound, 
 which, however, one ought never to hear but in sun- 
 shine.' 
 
 'Abbrgwili Palace, 14 May, 1867. 
 
 'I am quite perplexed as well as dejected by the 
 weather. I cannot carry my memory or even my 
 imagination back to that fine evening you speak of. 
 The general impression which the month has hitherto 
 made on my mind is that of extreme unnatural in- 
 clemency ; and then how puzzling it is to find that in 
 London they have had tropical heat, and that people 
 have been killed by sunstrokes. In winter I rather 
 enjoy howling wind and pelting rain, but to have 
 lowering skies, wet, and cold, while the most beautiful 
 blossoms of the spring only want a gleam of sunshine 
 to light them up, is to me quite afflicting. It seemed 
 this morning as if there must be some iceberg sailing 
 through the Irish Channel. You ask about my Sunday 
 letters. Yes, I receive them, but as, with one excep- 
 tion, I hate the sight of them, I seldom open them 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 137 
 
 before Black Monday. How can I be otherwise than 
 delighted with your sweet partiality for everything 
 belonging to me, which finds my deafness harmless and 
 my chaos agreeable? No doubt the deaf man himself 
 is the chief sufferer, as he loses nine-tenths of what 
 is said around him, and only saves the remainder by 
 bothering his neighbor. But I knoV from experience 
 the inconvenience of intercourse with deaf people when 
 you can never be sure that they have heard what you 
 say, and that you and they are not at cross purposes. 
 
 'As your study of the history of ancient Greece 
 ought to quicken your interest in her present fortunes, 
 I hope you observed that the King of Greece is trav- 
 elling incog, under the title of Marquis of Sparta. 
 How difficult it would have been for Tiresias to have 
 explained that to Menelaus. There is only one point in 
 which my recollection of things at Milan does not agree 
 with your description. When I was there I was told 
 that after the first night of a new opera or ballet, and 
 one commonly lasted a whole season, people never 
 went to their boxes to hear or see anything on the 
 stage, but to play cards, sip ices, ' gossip, &e. Can 
 there have been a change since? Your remarks on 
 the position of the royal box are quite just. At the 
 San Carlo, at Naples, the royal box was over the 
 stage ; and the more effectually to guard majesty from 
 scenic illusion, when the King was there a sentinel 
 was always opposite him on the stage.' 
 
 'Abbegwili Palace, 16 May, 1867. 
 
 ' I return the ghost story and M. Martin's letter, 
 with many thanks. The story is a very good one. In 
 common with others of the same class it suggests a 
 
138 BISHOP THIEL WALL'S 
 
 question which I have never seen satisfactorily answered, 
 "What do you mean by a ghost?" That I think is a 
 fair question, because it does not require you to account 
 for anything, but only to say what is passing in your 
 own mind. The information given by M. Martin does 
 not quite satisfy my curiosity on either point ' 
 
 'Abbegwili Palace, 18 Mmi, 1867. 
 
 ' . . . . The tenants of the boxes at the Scala were 
 certainly Italian families. I doubt whether Austrians 
 
 — who were all either military or civil officers — ever 
 appeared anywhere but in the pit, and I think the 
 military at least had there lihero ingresso. I believe the 
 finances of the theatre could not afford more than one 
 opera and one ballet for a season. But I remember 
 there was a small theatre — the name of which I forget 
 
 — near the Piazza del Duomo, devoted I think to comic 
 operas, e. g. Cinderella, which were pleasanter than the 
 
 performances of the Scala Perhaps the incog. 
 
 of the Marquis of Sparta would have been less striking 
 but that he was travelling with the Duke of (Modern) 
 Athens. Addio, Carissima ! ' ' 
 
 'Abbegwili Palace, 20 May, 1867. 
 
 ' I am forced to send a most hurried scrawl, and am 
 not sure that I shall be able to do even so much again 
 before I leave for London next Friday, as the agonies 
 of preparation for that journey always grow more and 
 more intense and absorbing every day. But I must 
 answer two of your questions before I forget them. 
 Let it then sink into your mind that the last time I 
 saw Milan was in 1819 — interval, I think, long enough 
 for a picture or two to slip out of a memory much more 
 
LETTERS TO A ERIEND. 139 
 
 tenacious ttan mine. In tlie year following I was again 
 in Italy, but only in the northwest corner, for the 
 Cornice, Genoa, Turin, Ivrea, Aosta, my walk of fifteen 
 hours from Courmayeur to Contamines, &c., &c. 
 
 ' Your tu quoque is delicious. To ask me what /mean 
 by a ghost ? Dearest of all ghost story-tellers, the very 
 gist — as your father would say — of the difficulty I find 
 in following my inclination to believe all that you relate, 
 is just that to my mind the word has no meaning at all 
 that I am able to grasp. When I hear it I do not 
 know whether I am thinking of body or spirit, and the 
 acts attributed to it seem to belong to neither. 
 
 'I am really saddened by this mysterious preter- 
 natural weather — like a long- protracted semi-eclipse 
 accompanied by a strange ominous stillness. I am sure 
 that the birds all feel the depressing influence. You 
 hardly see, still less hear any. If a rook is to be seen 
 it is evidently only some very pressing business that 
 has brought him out of doors. I could fancy anything 
 ready to come, an earthquake or a collision with some 
 strange body, crossing our path. We have had a little 
 rain, but not followed by any sunshine, and I am sure 
 that the clouds mean something more than that; the 
 air, however, is warm enough to enable me to feed my 
 geese in perfect safety. 
 
 ' Did you know that the iceberg hypothesis has 
 been recently superseded by another ? That it is sup- 
 posed there have been shoals of meteoroliths a few 
 millions' of miles ofE revolving round the sun and inter- 
 cepting its beams? Certainly this morning the state 
 of the sky quite corresponded with that hypothesis, the 
 appearance being very like that of a partial eclipse. 
 Only it strikes me that there is one objection to the 
 
140 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 hypothesis which I do not know how to meet. One 
 would suppose that the effect of such a screen com- 
 paratively near the sun must be felt alike in all parts of 
 the globe, at least in the same continent ; but it seems 
 from your friend's description that it has not affected 
 the climate of Italy ' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Steeet, 28 May, 1867. 
 
 ' I accomplished my journey to town in great safety, 
 without any incident more interesting to me than the 
 finishing of one book and the beginning of another; 
 and as often as I took any notice of the outer world it 
 was to enjoy some pleasant picture lighted up by a 
 bright sun, and as I viewed it in a temperature much 
 higher than that of the outer air there was nothing to 
 mar my enjoyment. I am thankful for your tender 
 anxiety, but pray bear in mind that I am not a hot- 
 house plant, not peculiarly susceptible of colds, but 
 quite the reverse — unapt to catch one, and apt to get 
 rid of it very easily. Saturday was one of Kingsley's 
 iron-gray days. I devoted a good part of the morning — 
 not knowing when I might have another opportunity 
 — to an attempt to see the Exhibition. It succeeded 
 but imperfectly, for as most of the more remarkable 
 pictures were on a level with the spectators, who formed 
 a screen close to them, I could only catch glimpses of 
 them, and never saw more than about half a one at a 
 time. I hope to be able to go again when the crowd is 
 ebbing. I was well pleased with Millais' " Jephthah," 
 and inclined to prefer it to any of his former doings. 
 
 ' To return to the weather, the most engrossing of 
 all topics next to the compound householder. A night's 
 rain brought a sweet relenting of the season on Sunday, 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 141 
 
 ■which has lasted until now, with frequent alternations 
 
 of shower and sunshine 
 
 'You profess to want to know "exactly" what I 
 think of Stuart Mill's speech on Female Suffrage. I can- 
 not help suspecting that what you are really curious 
 to know, is not so much what I think of the speech, as 
 how I should have voted on the motion. With regard 
 to the speech, I believe it is generally admitted by 
 Stuart Mill's friends and admirers that it was not, on 
 the whole, one of his happiest, and that as an argument 
 it was only partially successful. It succeeded as a proof 
 that there are many things amiss in the condition of 
 the better half of mankind which urgently call for 
 amendment, but it failed to make out a clear connection 
 between this object and that of his motion ; and I can- 
 not help doubting very much whether any such con- 
 nection really exists, except so far as the motion itself, 
 being placed on this as its main ground, serves to draw 
 more of public attention to the evil which is to be 
 remedied. It seems to me that for any other purpose 
 the motion was premature, and that the state of society 
 is not yet ripe for it. It seems reasonable to expect 
 that whatever any Parliament would be willing to do 
 for bettering the condition of women will have been 
 done long before women, if they had the suffrage, 
 would be able to return a majority. All those who 
 voted with Stuart Mill must be supposed to be willing 
 to promote any of the reforms which were the professed 
 object of the motion. But of those who voted against 
 it, the majority at least may have been quite as much 
 in favor of such reforms. Why should the advocates 
 of the rights of women wait until it has become a 
 Cabinet question before they introduce a series of 
 
142 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 measures for the redress of their wrongs ? They would 
 probably find that they were quite as efEectually sup- 
 ported by their fair clients without as with the suffrage. 
 This will, perhaps, suffice to give you an inkling of my 
 mind ' 
 
 '1 Regent Street, 7 June, 1867. 
 
 ' Even if I had known sooner where a letter would 
 find you I should have been a very, not unwilling, but 
 sorry correspondent, from two causes not depending on 
 myself — first, scarcity of time for writing amidst the 
 distractions of Convocation, Parliament, and other en- 
 gagements ; and next, want of something to write about, 
 as nothing has happened to me that could be of the 
 slightest interest to you, unless it was something you 
 might learn from the newspapers. When I look back 
 I can remember nothing to tell you of a specific kind, 
 except that in the evening of the day I wrote last I had 
 again the pleasure of meeting M. Ernest de Bunsen, 
 and witnessing the display of his vocal powers, which I 
 enjoy. He gave Beethoven's "Adelaide" most admira- 
 bly. I had never heard it before but once, at a concert, 
 sung by a very famous German, whose name I forget, 
 but I think he could hardly have surpassed M. E. de 
 Bunsen in the delicacy of the execution. After this 
 comes a blank, and the general impression it has left on 
 my mind is rather dreary. I cannot say that I have 
 much enjoyed town, and yet have had less than usual 
 longing for the country, as there has been, on the whole, 
 very little seasonable weather. Last Sunday was rather 
 too hot, and since then we have had almost constantly 
 wet or cloudy days. 
 
 ' I managed to give two pretty long visits to the 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 143 
 
 Exhibition. Millais' three pictures (" Jephthah " and 
 two children, one at night and the other in the morning) 
 deserve all the praise you have heard of them. I am 
 glad- that you have enjoyed your visit to Oxford. How 
 good it was of you to go and see Saturn ; he must be 
 now of a great age. I hope you found him pretty well 
 for his years.^ 
 
 ' I dare say you remember the statue of Edward 
 III. in the Great Court of Trinity, under which you 
 may have noticed an arch and a staircase. That stair- 
 case led up to the last set of rooms I occupied. Directly 
 opposite, you may remember, is a tower over a gateway. 
 In the upper floor of that tower is the set I occupied 
 first. In Neville's Court, on the right, you passed by 
 two staircases which led up to rooms '-^ where I passed 
 the intermediate period. I hope you will be able to 
 give a satisfactory account of your visit to Cambridge. 
 .... On Monday I am going on an excursion to Can- 
 terbury, on a visit to Canon Blakesley.^ I had expected 
 to return to Abergwili next week ; but my name has 
 been placed on the Rubric Commission, and I find there 
 will be two meetings which I shall be able to attend, 
 and must therefore remain in town for the purpose. 
 The second will be on Monday, the 17th, and I intend 
 to return the next day.' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, 17 Juiie, 1867. 
 ' - . . . On Whit Monday I took a holiday, and 
 made an excursion to pay a visit to my friend. Canon 
 Blakesley, at Canterbury. I had not been there for 
 
 1 Alluding to a visit to the Observatory. 
 
 2 These rooms are now occupied by Mr. Aldis Wright, Fellow and 
 Burser of Trinity College. 
 
 ' The present Dean of Lincoln. 
 
144 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 some thirty years, and on Tuesday spent a laborious but 
 very delightful day in the inspection of the cathedral 
 and St. Augustine's College. You have probably seen 
 them much more recently, and know that the cathedral 
 has been long under a process of judicious restoration, 
 which is not yet completed, and is from time to time 
 bringing interesting objects to light. I was agreeablj' 
 surprised by the college, over which we were shown by 
 the warden. I was not prepared for its extent or its 
 architectural, beauties, which are quite in harmony with 
 the cathedral, and really admired its perfect adaptation 
 to its object — the preparation for missionary life. Do 
 you know that it occupies the site at once of the old 
 abbey — especially of a part which had been turned into 
 a tavern and a cockpit, but is now reclaimed to uses 
 more in accordance with the original purpose — and of a 
 palace, in which Charles I., having been married in the 
 cathedral, spent his honeymoon? .... My day at 
 Canterbury was the last summer day we have had. 
 Every one since has been, if not wet, gloomy and chilly 
 — generally partaking of all three characters, and 
 indicating that the two hundred mile long iceberg is 
 still afloat, and probably nearing us. Still, yesterday 
 afternoon I again went out pleasuring. I was told by 
 Lord John Manners at Windsor that I ought to take 
 the very earliest opportunity of seeing the Tower — in 
 which he is concerned as Commissioner of Woods and 
 Forests. So I made the trip partly by water (in two 
 penny steamers between Hungerford and London 
 Bridge) and partly by land (the whole costing me 
 Is. 2(Z.), and was fully repaid. I did not go into any 
 room of armory, jewels, or anything else, but simply 
 walked through it, glad to see that everything had 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 145 
 
 been put into good condition, with every vestige of 
 anti(5[uity carefully preserved. I also deeply enjoyed 
 the approaches through the Billingsgate district. The 
 river itself was spoiled by the Arctic fog which hung 
 over it ; but I could see that the Embankment is 
 beginning to give it a little the appearance of the Seine 
 at Paris. The penny boats attracted many sons and 
 daughters of Israel, who could lengthen their Sabbath 
 journey with the less scruple as no beasts — only two or 
 thtee heathens — had to work for them. I hope you 
 have seen the picture of Disraeli's triumph in " Punch." 
 It will immortalize the work which it parodies, being 
 what that (though a performance of considerable merit) 
 is not — a real stroke of genius.' ^ 
 
 Cardigan, 15 Aug., 1867. 
 ' - . . . But this reminds me of something very sad 
 and serious, it is through the association of Lady Duff 
 Gordon's ^ letter from Thebes, which I only saw last night 
 in the " Pall Mall Gazette," that we have lost our 
 friend Mrs. Austin. I did not know before what was 
 the malady — become of late more common than hereto- 
 fore — under which she had been suffering. Her Bible 
 will be now more precious to you than ever.' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 11 Sept., 1867. 
 
 ' .... I am very sorry that you are not going 
 
 to the Breton Congress : first, on your acftiunt, as you 
 
 would certainly have enjoyed it very much ; and next on 
 
 my own, as, next to the pleasure of being there myself, 
 
 1 'The Derby, 1867. Dizzy wins with " Reform Bill." The first 
 division on the Reform Bill in Committee resulted in a majority of 
 twenty -one for the Government in a full House.' 
 
 2 Mrs. Austin's daughter. 
 
 7 
 
146 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 would have been that of seeing an account of it — 
 illustrated perhaps by sketches — from you How- 
 inscrutable are the ways of cats ! Within a very short 
 time after your departure, the creature made its ap- 
 pearance — too late for the Fair.' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 1 Oct., 1867. 
 
 ' . . . . Yoa had reason to expect that I should 
 have returned the enclosed papers before now, and I 
 meant to have done so yesterday, but found it impossible, 
 unless I had sent them quite by themselves. I only 
 returned on Saturday night. 
 
 ' During the Pan-Anglican I was a guest at Fulham, 
 and the time was so completely filled up that I could 
 not even open a letter before Thursday, or begin 
 answering any until within an hour of post time on 
 Friday. Hence an arrear which I am laboring to de- 
 spatch. I am glad on the whole that I went to the 
 meeting. In the first place, because I found all my 
 forebodings exactly fulfilled (which always gratifies- 
 one's self-love even when they are forebodings of evil) ; 
 and next, because I was enabled to contribute a little 
 to prevent mischief. I must add that the discussions 
 were at all events lively, and the time never seemed 
 long. I had also the pleasure of meeting several per- 
 sons whom I was glad to see ; among them the amiable 
 Bishop of J%maica,^ who begged to be kindly remem- 
 bered to you. Do not believe a single word that you 
 see in the papers about anything that passed at the 
 meeting, except the documents which are to be pub- 
 lished verbatim.' 
 
 ' Aubrey Spencer. 
 
LETTERS TO A FEIEND. 147 
 
 'Abekgwili Palace, 5 Oct., 1867. 
 
 ' .... I wish very mucli to see j'ou while your woods 
 retain the first beauty of autumn, and to make a holiday 
 of my visit without a sense of remorse. I know you have 
 an idea that it is possible to combine work and play 
 elsewhere than at home. It may be so, indeed I have 
 no doubt is so, with you ; for me it is absolutely im- 
 possible, and I have long ceased to reckon upon it. 
 .... I am much obliged for the sample of Jluskin's 
 writing, which is very characteristic. It is a pity that 
 he thinks so meanly of botany, when he believes him- 
 self capable of rendering so great a service to it. Poor 
 Linnseus ! to be found out for a fool and a blockhead. 
 Though I am no botanist, having no time to spare for 
 the pursuit, and being occupied with things leading me 
 far away from it, I conld not admit that the science is 
 " altogether trivial," and hardly understand how any one 
 who has a taste for zoology should not take a lively 
 interest, though not one equally absorbing, in the vege- 
 table world. The turn of mind which attracts towards 
 the one study seems to me essentially identical with 
 that which tends to the other. This would seem clear 
 if it was only from the fact that on the confines the two 
 realms have no line of demarcation. I shall keep your 
 riddle till I know whether you have another copy. If 
 not, I will take one before I return it. It is a great 
 deal too good for me to guess, let alone to write. I 
 suppose the appearance of talking nonsense about 
 religion was thought to mark it as the production of a 
 bishop.' ^ 
 
 1 A riddle which was supposed to he written hy Bishop Thirlwall or 
 Bishop Wilberforce. 
 
148 BISHOP THIELW ALL'S 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 14 Oct., 1867. 
 ' - . . . What is the standard by which you measure 
 usefulness? How many persons of your acquaintance 
 do you know who contribute more than you do to the 
 happiness of others, and who, if they were taken away, 
 would leave a more sensible void in a larger circle ? If 
 that is not being useful, it is only because it is some- 
 thing still better. What should you think of a rose 
 which fretted itself with thinking, " Oh, dear ! what a 
 poor useless creature am I, stuck in the ground, with 
 nothing to do but to bloom and scent the air, and wast- 
 ing much of my bloom and fragrance unperceived " ? 
 Would it not be something worse than unjust to itself 
 — unthankful to the fatherly goodness which had en- 
 dowed it with such delightful qualities ? You wonder 
 whether you will ever be more useful hereafter. I do 
 not know that you need. But the law of God's king- 
 dom is, " He that is faithful in a, few things shall be 
 made ruler over many things." But how little it 
 matters whether they are many or few, so long as there 
 is the faithfulness which makes the most of the few, 
 and can do no more with the many. There, pray be 
 edified with my little sermon, and for once reduce it to 
 practice ' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 17 Oct., 1867 
 '. . . . By the dream I suppose you mean that 
 about Tiberius. I do not know whether I can tell it 
 
 before the post goes I dream — 
 
 ' I am in a gallery of the imperial palace. A door 
 opens into it, through which I pass into a room. There 
 is Tiberius on a low seat, looking eagerly and sternly at 
 a culprit in front of him, who stands between two live 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 149 
 
 lions. As the cause seems to be going against him, he 
 rushes forward with a sword, which he plunges into the 
 side of Tiberius. I retreat into the corridor ; but pres^ 
 ently hear a cry, " He is dead." The gallery echoes, 
 "Dead." I rejoice — but awake.' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 28 Oct., 1867. 
 
 '. . . . I must now also trouble you with a little 
 message to Dr. D. about that word gosse, which I first 
 told him was German, and then made him (perhaps) 
 believe to be Danish. On searching, I could not find it 
 in either of my Danish dictionaries, and began to think 
 that I had been the dupe of a strange hallucination, 
 and had invented the word and its signification. And 
 it seemed so unlikely that, if not Danish, it should be a 
 Scandinavian word at all, that it was quite as a forlorn 
 hope that I consulted my Swedish dictionary. There, 
 however, I found it, and its meaning exactly defined — 
 a boy between seven and fourteen. As I wished to 
 trace it a little farther, I looked for it in Dr. Jamieson's 
 Scottish Dictionary, where, indeed, I found the word 
 ffoss, but in an irrelevant sense, with the addition, how- 
 ever, of a note containing the valuable information, " Isl. 
 gose, signifies a little servant, servulus. This Dr. D. 
 will remember is the exact sense I attributed to gosse, 
 though, oddly enough, it does not appear to carry this 
 in Swedish. I cannot doubt the correctness of Dr, 
 Jamieson's statement. Yet I was unable to find the 
 word in either of my Icelandic dictionaries, one of which 
 is a lexicon of the poetical language ^— thus proving that 
 gosse does not belong to that. The other is Danish- 
 Icelandic, and there, of course, it could not be found 
 under the word gosse, which the Danish has not. But 
 
150 BISHOP THIELWALI/S 
 
 as dreng is the exact Danish equivalent of gosse — signi- 
 fying " a boy," specially " an apprentice " — I looked 
 out that, but in vain. And this is all I now know 
 about it. 
 
 ' If I was asked what is the English of your home, 
 I should say, " earthly paradise." I do not know when 
 or where I ever spent such delightful days. And I 
 believe it was the last opportunity I should have had 
 this year, as I have since received a seventh call to an 
 opening, and fully expect that the journeys I shall have 
 to make on these errands will consume three-fourths of 
 the time between this and Christmas. Pray remember 
 me to all the links of your happy circle.' 
 
 'Abeegwilt Palace, 8 Nov., 1867. 
 
 - ' The evil time is beginning, when correspondence 
 becomes more and more difficult. If I wait until post 
 time, I must now go out when it would be time to come 
 in, after all the beauty of the day — if it be such as this 
 
 — is gone, the sun near setting, the geese gone to bed, 
 and hardly light enough left for a book except in large 
 print. And I feel it almost a sin not to enjoy what 
 remains of this season of warmth and light 
 
 ' You seem not to have suspected how much uncer- 
 tainty there is about the root of vassalus. It is no 
 doubt — rather most probably — a diminutive of vassus, 
 and this, indeed, looks very much like the same word as 
 gwas with a Latin termination. I am myself on the, 
 whole inclined to think it is so. But Ducange gives a 
 great many other derivations of vassus beside this — 
 which appears to have been first proposed by one 
 Boxhorn in a " Dictionarium Cambro-Britannicum." 
 Schwenck says that no probable derivation of vassus 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 151 
 
 has yet been proposed. That which raises the chief 
 difficulty seems to me to be that the senses of the two 
 words do not agree in every point. The meaning of 
 gwas (Breton goas) is, as you may see in Pugh and 
 Lhuid, that of a servant-6oy — exactly like the Swedish 
 and Icelandic gosse. But no idea of youth appears ever 
 to have been associated with the word vassus, which 
 expresses merely the feudal dependence, and thus gives 
 some color to the derivation from the German fassen, 
 "to bind," especially as it is so often connected as 
 equivalent with drudus, "faithful (true)." But more 
 than enough. Post time is come.' 
 
 'Abbeswili Palace, 19 Nov., 1867 (after pos(). 
 
 ' " Oh, but it is a blessed doctrine," said a pious 
 Scotch lady, speaking of the dogma of the total de- 
 pravity of mankind, " if folk wad only live up til it ! " 
 What, you will ask, could put that anecdote into your 
 head ? and to what is it d-propos ? Well, it is d-propos 
 to your vexation at having your rest broken and missing 
 the sight of the fiery shower which may have been so 
 glorious to behold, after all. But what has the meteoric 
 shower to do with human depravity? and how did it 
 put the Scbtchwoman's remark into your head? Alas ! 
 it was my own evil conscience that formed the associ- 
 ating link. You who would make me believe that I am 
 very nearly perfect, will be astonished to hear how I 
 have been illustrating the " blessed doctrine." I ought, 
 of course, to have felt nothing but concern for your 
 disappointment. Instead of this it occurred to me that 
 I had also wished very much to see the meteors, and 
 had intended to watch for them, but entirely forgot 
 them until I received your letter, and then, instead of 
 
152 BISHOP THIRL WALL'S 
 
 sympathizing with your annoyance — will you believe 
 it possible ? — I actually caught myself pleased with the 
 thought that, if I had watched, it would have been to 
 n» purpose, and that I lost no spectacle which in these 
 parts was visible to anybody. Is it easily possible for 
 human depravity to go beyond that? On the other 
 hand, I remember that I was very much amazed by the 
 descriptions I heard of the magnificent spectacle which 
 I missed through my stupid thoughtlessness last August. 
 You may pass these things over lightly, but I am sure 
 that the Scotchwoman would have considered them as 
 striking examples of her doctrine. Poor Lonsdale* 
 seems to have been one of the meteors which were 
 hidden from common view in their rapid passage. I 
 never heard of him before. " Ruby " is very pretty and 
 seems to show a germ which might have ripened into 
 great beauty, if it had not been prematurely nipped. I 
 am not able to furnish a list of books proper to be con- 
 sulted about Spenser. But I think it might be worth 
 while for any one about to write on the subject to look 
 into Taine's " Histoire de la Litt^rature Anglaise," and 
 at the Introduction to the first volume of Morley's 
 " English Writers." I do not know whether he reaches 
 Spenser in the second.' 
 
 '1 Regent Street (Jerusalem Chamber), 28 Nov., 1867. 
 
 ' . . . . You see where I am now. I was much 
 
 more pleasantly engaged yesterday evening, when I 
 
 dined with Dean Milman, and among other agreeable 
 
 people met Matthew Arnold. He expressed great 
 
 ^ Author of a volume of miscellaneous poems. Some of his songs were 
 set to music — at his request — by Mrs. March (Virginia Gabriel), who, 
 although they never met in this life, took an interest in his writings, and 
 befriended him. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. I53 
 
 regret that he had not been able to be present either 
 at the Carmarthen Eisteddfod or the Congtess of St. 
 Brieuc. He also lamented that Lady Charlotte Schrei- 
 ber would not consent to publish a cheap edition of the 
 " Mabinogion." He was not aware that even to Welsh- 
 men the original presented at least as many difficulties 
 as Chaucer to Englishmen of this day. 
 
 ' Conceive that the Dean was not aware that the 
 Romans had left any traces of their presence in South 
 Wales.' 
 
 • Abbkgwili Palace, 20 Dec., 1867. 
 
 ' I should scold you, if I could do it without incur- 
 ring the suspicion of hypocrisy, for exerting yourself 
 to continue your journal when you so much need rest. 
 My present letter will not cost much exertion, either 
 to write or to read, on account of short time and scant 
 materials, for your letter only suggests a single topic, 
 the condition of John's little girl. She is said to be 
 gaining strength, but it must be very slowly, for it 
 appears that she suffered much pain when she had to 
 be carried in a blanket to a new house which John has 
 taken at Oxford. It will be long, I am afraid, before 
 she will be able to bear a longer journey.^ The conse- 
 quence is, that I find myself here in sole charge of a 
 party of young folks, with the duty of making them a 
 merry Christmas. 1 do what I can by supplying them 
 with books and pictures, but if it was not for their 
 inexhaustible resources of self-amusement I am afraid 
 I should fail miserably. 
 
 1 ' Jekusalem Chamber, 28 Nov., 1867. 
 
 '. . . . She was — I hope I may say still is — a most delightful little 
 creature and the joy of her father's heart.' 
 
 7* 
 
154 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ' The worst thing is that I shall be obliged to leave 
 them before the end of their holidays to attend the 
 resumed meetings of that Ritual Commission, and I do 
 not know what demands I may not expect it to make on 
 my time. 
 
 ' This season is the gloomiest we have had since the 
 winter of the Crimean War. My spirits are depressed 
 when I think of the misery poor people are suffering in 
 the East of London, of the general insecurity, of the 
 conflagrations threatened and partly carried into effect, 
 of that Abyssinian expedition from which I augur 
 nothing but evil. The only comfort is to escape from 
 the outer world into the region of thought. 
 
 'I mean to supplement this very poor letter with 
 something which I hope may be more amusing. I do 
 not think you take in or often see the " Spectator.", I 
 therefore send three numbers, in which you must look 
 for the articles relating to Cats, in which, perhaps, for 
 the first time, some degree of justice has been done to 
 the moral qualities of those much-traduced and often- 
 persecuted creatures. I trust that you will be able to 
 read them with some interest and enjoyment.' 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. I55 
 
 1868. 
 
 'Abbrgwili Palace, 1 Jan., 1868. 
 
 'Perhaps our letters ought to have crossed one 
 another, so that each of us might have received the 
 other's good wishes at the same moment. Or, again, 
 perhaps it may be best that the old and the new year 
 should have each its share. I have nothing to say, but 
 "many happy returns," and God bless you. If you 
 are " unintelligible " to me, what must be the state of 
 my understanding? I fully understand how much 
 reason I have to be ashamed of having so much said 
 of me that I do not deserve ; and yet how glad I am 
 that you should take such a view of me, and how 
 little I can wish that you should estimate me less 
 partially. 
 
 ' Here you are comparing my reading with your 
 own, never reflecting that the time which you might, 
 but do not, give to books is a sacrifice which you make 
 to your friends, and that if I was only as self-denying 
 I should not have more leisure. Among other things, I 
 have been lately reading two novels, one Dutch and the 
 other German, each of great celebrity in its own reading 
 circle, and have been much amused by the contrast 
 they exhibit between the Dutch and the German 
 character, which shows itself in their novels just as it 
 does in their paintings — the Dutch work ingenious in 
 
156 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 its structure and elaborate in its details, but utterly- 
 destitute of poetry and what the Germans call Qemuth, 
 which pervades the other. 
 
 'As I have nothing to say, I must report a little 
 anecdote which John told me of his little girl. When 
 her state appeared to be almost hopeless, and she was 
 only kept alive by the most violent stimulants, she 
 woke one night in a kind of dream, and asked for a 
 paint-brush and red paint. She so insisted upon it 
 that it was brought to her, and being asked what she 
 wanted to do with it, she said, " Dolly ought to have 
 the measles, too," and proceeded to exhibit most glaring 
 symptoms of the disorder on Dolly's face. 
 
 ' Is not that almost as good as anything in 
 Andersen ? ' 
 
 ' Abbkgwili Palace, 15 Jan., 1868. 
 
 ' Cats have come safe. I hope you enjoy and are 
 the better for this delightful foretaste of spring, the 
 more welcome to me as the days are lengthening, and I 
 gain a little more time from the twilight, in which 
 chaos is only discernible in the faint rays of my read- 
 ing-lamp, when, if I happen to want anything in the 
 remote regions, I miss the daylight most painfully. 
 We may be thankful that our frost, odious as it was, 
 seems to have been nothing like so severe as it has been 
 
 in France and Italy, though Mrs. B , in her last 
 
 letter, which I received on New Year's Day, continued 
 to rave about scorching suns, cactuses, palms, oranges, 
 and everything she could think of to make me envious. 
 .... I am now just breathing again after some very 
 disagreeable occupation, which consumed a great deal 
 of precious time which I wanted sadly for other pur- 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 157 
 
 poses. The Ritual plague has broken out at Tenby, 
 imported by a new rector, in a mild form indeed, but 
 yet accompanied by fever, restlessness, ill blood, and ; 
 other bad symptoms. The parties, unfortunately, ap- j 
 pealed to me, and I had to write endless letters to both. \ 
 The worst was, that I was obliged to tell both leurs 
 vSritSs, which I have no doubt has put both in a worse 
 humor with me than they were before with one an- 
 other. And I am not at all sure that I have either 
 read or written the last of it yet. 
 
 ' I think it is since I wrote last that I have finished 
 both my German and my Dutch novel. The contrast 
 between the two continued growing stronger and 
 stronger to the end. The German story moves in the 
 highest and the lowest regions of society, the Dutch in 
 ' that of the middle class. It strongly confirms the im- 
 pression I received from my visit to Holland, that 
 there is probalply no country in Europe where the 
 despotism of etiquette, conventionality, ceremonious- 
 ness, and the forms of provincial society prevails to the 
 same extent. It comes nearer to the Chinese laws of 
 politeness than anything else European. When I was 
 set free from this I opened the " Cornhill." The last 
 seemed to me a generally good number, and I enjoyed 
 the chapters on Talk exceedingly. The idea was 
 original and happy, and they showed great fineness of 
 observation and much quiet humor, with a style per- 
 fectly fitted to the subject. The principal novel is the 
 first I ever read of Lever's, though I believe he is a 
 voluminous author, and this is a very attractive speci- 
 men. I hope you have read Matthew Arnold's " Anarchy 
 and Authority " in the same number ; it is in his very 
 happiest style. 
 
158 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ' I heard in London that the great demand for the' 
 " Quarterly " article on the Talmud,^ which mainly- 
 helped to carry it through a sixth edition, came from 
 the ladies. Have you read it? If so, I hope it will 
 not have inspired you with an ardor for reading the 
 Talmud itself. The article which has been mentioned 
 to you in the " Revue des deux Mondes " is the work 
 of no doubt a less learned author, but appeared to me 
 more moderate and sensible. There is a third article 
 on the subject in the last number of the " Contempo- 
 rary Review," by a great Biblical scholar, Mr. Poole, 
 who is as warm an admirer of the Talmud as the 
 " Quarterly Review ; " but, while he seems to me enor- 
 mously to exaggerate the value of its good things, 
 incautiously lets out that you must " wade through a 
 very sea of nonsense " to get at them. Let him who 
 likes. I do not. 
 
 ' I am very glad to observe that Gladstone has 
 taken up the pen in defence of " Ecce Homo," in an 
 article, which is to be the first of a series, in " Good 
 Words." After the invectives of Lord Shaftesbury and 
 the public censure of a bishop, I think this a very 
 manly act, though only a tribute of justice to a much- 
 wronged book. It is also pleasant to see that the 
 defence appears in a very orthodox Presbyterian maga- 
 zine Our Christmas party of five juveniles has 
 
 been reinforced by the arrival of their mother and the 
 little invalid, who I hope is gaining strength every day. 
 Dolly is quite recovered, and her' cheeks have regained 
 their natural hue. 
 
 ' Alas I only six days remain before I must go up to 
 
 1 By Emanuel Oscar Mennliem Dentaoh. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 159 
 
 London to be plunged again in the depths of Ritualism, 
 and there are so many things which I wanted and 
 meant to have done first, and which now, chiefly in 
 consequence of that disastrous interruption from Tenby, 
 I shall have, I am afraid, to postpone for an indefinite 
 time. 
 
 ' Then I am going into the jaws of the Fenian Con- 
 spiracy.^ The inspection of the vaults under the House 
 of Lords, which has long been considered as a mere 
 formality, will no doubt now be made with earnest 
 scrutiny. But is it possible to say where the gun- 
 powder or other explosive substance may not be hidden 
 to hoist the collected aristocracy into the air ? Convo- 
 cation will probably be safer from any such plot. But, 
 apart from any personal danger, I quite agree with 
 what has been said to you as to the aspect of the times, 
 though you thought my view of it was the morbid 
 fancy of an overworked brain ' 
 
 '1 RiGBNT Street, 25 Jan., 1868 (too laU for post). 
 
 ' .... I wonder who is that . His contribu- 
 tion to the huge and ever-growing mass of Ritualistic 
 controversy might, perhaps, have been as well or better 
 spared. But at least it has the merit of being small; 
 and if it is really the voice of a dying swan — however 
 little sweetness there is in it, so that it might easily be 
 mistaken for the note of a goose — it is a great comfort 
 to think that we shall not hear it again, 
 
 ' I grumbled a good deal at having to go up to Lon- 
 don. But I am now thankful to have come. I had a 
 treat last night, which I would not have missed for any 
 
 ' This alludes to the late Fenian attempt to explode the Clerken- 
 well prison. 
 
160 BISHOi" THIBLWALI/S 
 
 price. Tyndall delivered the second (the first, unhappily, 
 was the Friday before) of two lectures at the Royal 
 Institution, " On Faraday as a Discoverer." 
 
 ' The first part consisted of an analysis of Faraday's 
 scientific writings, chiefly interesting of course to men 
 of science, but yet enabling every one to understand the 
 peculiar combination of unlimited boldness of specula- 
 tion with the strictest caution in verifying every step 
 by experiment, which seems to have been the- dis- 
 tinguishing mark of Faraday's genius. He then pro- 
 ceeded to a sketch of Faraday's character in all its 
 aspects and relations ; and I never heard anything 
 more beautiful or affecting. The simplicity, modesty, 
 and kindliness which were coupled with such greatness 
 of mind and soul were brought out by several interesting 
 anecdotes which were new to me. It appeared from a 
 comparison of his account-books in Tyndall's possession 
 (all kept like everything else about him in the most 
 lucid order — no chaos there) that, if he had chosen to 
 apply his scientific acquirements to commercial pur- 
 poses he would have died worth (?) 150,000Z. He died 
 poor, having deliberately made his choice between 
 wealth and science. While Sir Robert Peel was in 
 office, he conceived the idea of instituting an honorary 
 pension for men of science, which they might accept 
 without any sacrifice of independence, like a cross or a 
 riband. When the nature of the thing was explained 
 to Faraday, after some hesitation, he consented to 
 accept it; but before the office forms were completed 
 Peel went out and was succeeded by Lord Melbourne, 
 and it became necessary for Faraday to have an inter- 
 view on the subject with that excellent man, who, you 
 know, made game of everything, and while quite willing 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 161 
 
 to confirm his predecessor's grant, dropped an observa- 
 tion upon it, in which Faraday's susceptible ear was 
 struck by the word " humbug." At a sound so jarring 
 with his whole nature, he took his leave, and presently 
 despatched a note to Lord M. declining the pension. 
 Happily there were mutual friends to mediate between 
 the parties ; but Faraday insisted on a written apology 
 from the Prime Minister, and that most good-natured 
 of men, who no doubt thought the whole affair a capital 
 joke, sent a written apology, which reconciled Faraday 
 to the modest pension. 
 
 ' The last thing he declined was the highest of 
 scientific honors, the Presidency of the Royal Society. 
 This he would have liked, and it was urgently pressed 
 upon him, but he finally refused it, because it would 
 have imposed upon him what he regarded as duties 
 which would either have diverted him from purely i 
 scientific pursuits, or have required a strain which his 
 mind was unable to bear. 
 
 ' Towards the end Tyndall said many fine things — 
 not flowers of rhetoric, but springing out of the 
 depths of their long intimate friendship. " He prized 
 the honor of being Faraday's successor less than the 
 happiness of having been his friend. The one was a 
 mantle almost too heavy to bear, the other a memory 
 full of the purest delight." He closed with the words, 
 "Let me die the death of the noble, and let my last 
 end be like his," and then rushed out of the room 
 amidst a storm of applause. 
 
 'The attendance was just the largest that the room, 
 with the addition of extra chairs, would hold. It was 
 curious to see how, after it was over, people gave vent 
 to their feelings by shaking hands, as if to congratulate 
 
162 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 one another on having been present on such an occasion. 
 It was, indeed, something to remember to the end of 
 
 one's life Faraday was a whole man, with heart, 
 
 mind, and soul equally and healthily developed. 
 
 ' I am reading the life of another great man, but 
 whose greatness was exclusively that of the mind, while 
 heart and soul were shrivelled up. It is "Histoire de 
 NapoMon 1™, par P. Lanfrey." I believe it to be the 
 first trustworthy history of Napoleon that has yet 
 appeared. It has not, indeed, altered my opinion of 
 him, which had been formed before, particularly by 
 Consalvi's M^moires " and the articles in the " Revue 
 des deux Mondes " on "L'Eglise et I'Empire ; " but it 
 illustrates the growth of the character, while placing its 
 quality beyond a doubt. Some of these days I must 
 get your father to read it. At present the great con- 
 queror is serving as a foil to the true hero of last 
 night's lecture.' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, 7 Feb., 1868. 
 
 'I am not at all an iconoclast. I would break no 
 idol, however vain and worthless in my own opinion, so 
 long as it is an object of sincere devotion or veneration 
 to the worshipper. As long as you believe the old 
 Napoleon to be worthy of honor and admiration, it is 
 quite right that you should honor and admire him, 
 and, if your belief goes far enough, worship him as a 
 "hero." But at present the language in which you 
 allude to what you evidently consider as the only 
 blemishes in his character, proves that, with regard to 
 the means of forming an estimate of the man, you are 
 in pretty much the same condition as nine hundred and 
 ninety-nine in every thousand, or a still larger propor- 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 163 
 
 tion, throughout this country and, perhaps, the -world. 
 It is but very lately that it has become possible to write 
 a trustworthy history of Napoleon, and people in gen- 
 eral are now only just beginning to cool down into a 
 state of mind which enables them to take an impartial 
 view of the subject. With us that was every way im- 
 possible during our great struggle with him, and for a 
 generation afterwards his name continued to be a shib- 
 boleth of party. In France itself during his reign the 
 voice of history was silenced by the police. Afterwards 
 the unpopularity of the two succeeding dynasties created 
 a strong reaction in his favor, and the public greedily 
 accepted such " histories " as that of the unscrupulous 
 sophist, Thiers ; and the unquenched though somewhat 
 moderated passion for military " glory " still operates to 
 the same result. But the reign of the nephew has, I 
 believe, disposed people to review that of the uncle 
 more soberly; and it has happened that at the same 
 time many most important sources of information (divers 
 memoirs and his own correspondence) have been bj^aught 
 to light. This was the more indispensable as he him- 
 self employed his forced leisure at St. Helena in falsi- 
 fying his own history, and doing what he could to 
 avert the righteous judgment of posterity on himself 
 — an attempt which has been happily defeated, partly 
 by the self-contradictions which are almost inevitable 
 in a great complication of falsehood, and partly by 
 subsequent discoveries which he could not foresee. 
 Lanfrey has availed himself of these resources for a 
 great rectification of the history, which, though as yet 
 going no further than the peace of Amiens, has, I 
 believe, already made a deep impression both in France 
 and England. Whenever you shall have read it, if you 
 
164 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 are still able to think of him as before, by all means 
 do so. Bat at least you will find that it is wholly 
 beside the question to speak of his " ambitious faults 
 and reckless sacrifice of life" (meaning, no doubt, by 
 the last expression nothing worse than his undertaking 
 destructive wars for no end but the satisfaction of his 
 ambition — not such things as the almost wanton butch- 
 eries of Jaffa and Austerlitz, or the quite wanton reck- 
 lessness of ordering a little attack of a post which cost 
 a few lives simply for the amusement of his mistress). 
 You will find that the real question is, whether he ever 
 shrunk from any crime or from any baseness which he 
 thought likely to serve his ends. If, after what is now 
 known of him, his name is still to be coupled with 
 such words as " gloi'y," " fame," " heroism," it will 
 become necessary to inquire in what sense those words 
 are to be understood. There is a sense in which I, 
 with my opinion of Napoleon, could well adopt that 
 saying of Lord Dudley : " I quite see that in the light 
 of oitr present knowledge Napoleon's past ' glory ' 
 is even more than ' doubtful,' and his ' future fame 
 impossible.' " 
 
 'But what Lord D. meant I do not pretend to un- 
 derstand. Perhaps it was only an emphatic way of 
 saying that Napoleon was incomparably the greatest, 
 not only of all past, but of all possible captains. But 
 this might (for the sake of argument) be granted, and 
 we should still have to ask. What is glory? and. What 
 is fame? A great Greek defined "glory" to be that 
 which waits on virtue as its shadow. According to 
 that definition. Napoleon's glory would, as his claim to 
 virtue was tried, shrink into nothing. But if, when 
 we speak of " glory " and " fame," we abstract entirely 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 165 
 
 from all moral considerations, and mean by "glory" 
 something which makes a great glare and dazzles man- 
 kind with its brilliancy, and by " fame " something that 
 makes a great noise in history, then no doubt both glory 
 and fame must be attributed to Napoleon in the very 
 highest degree ; and if that is enough to make a " hero," 
 then he is among the greatest. But this is really to 
 abstract from all difference between fame and infamy. 
 For both make a great noise, and Domitian is likely 
 to be remembered as long as Titus, Nero as Trajan. 
 After all, use what words we may, I believe it is 
 impossible to admire any one without respect to his 
 moral qualities. There is the difference between admi- 
 ration and wonder. Did you ever feel yourself moved 
 to honor a man for being immensely rich, or prodi- 
 giously strong, or because he could cross Niagara on the 
 tight rope, or play a dozen games of chess at the same 
 time without looking at a board? The talent for mili- 
 tary combinations may be one of a higher order, and 
 it is certainly much more conspicuous, but it is of the 
 same kind and equally consistent with the utter absence 
 of every title to respect. Napoleon as a captain prob- 
 ably stood above the Duke of Wellington, did things 
 which the Duke could not have done. But it is at least 
 equally certain that he owed his elevation in a great 
 measure to his doing things which the Duke, as a man 
 of honor, could not have done, and by which he would 
 have felt himself degraded in his own eyes. Bonaparte 
 had an almost superstitious confidence in his "star," 
 but no self-respect. His ambition was not only the 
 cause of " faults," but was itself the worst of all, being 
 not only insatiably greedy, reckless, and remorseless, 
 but essentially low and vulgar ; and this while he had 
 
166 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 the true glory of Washington before his eyes, and (after 
 the 18th Brumaire) the most absolute freedom to play a 
 like part on a far greater and more conspicuous stage. 
 No Hercules ever more deliberately chose the path of 
 evil. 
 
 'I flatter myself that I can sympathize with your 
 enjoyment of a quiet day. A life of constant society 
 would to me be absolutely intolerable, while I was never 
 yet tired of what is called solitude (being indeed some 
 of the choicest society to one who likes a book). I am 
 afraid you will not find quite so much as you expect in 
 Miiller's " Chips." It is all in vol. ii., but occupies no 
 great space there. In other ways all is excellent.' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, 16 Feb., 1868. 
 
 'Your sweet congratulations came to cheer a very 
 lonely birthday, which was chiefly occupied with read- 
 ing the shorthand writers' reports of the great Macko- 
 nochie case. As it occupied twelve days, and every 
 syllable uttered was taken down, you may conceive 
 what a mass of print I had to wade through, and I was 
 obliged to do so as it was furnished for the special use 
 of the Ritual Commission. 
 
 .' Everything you say about Napoleon is perfectly 
 natural, right, amiable — in a word womanly. His 
 marvellous fortune could not but captivate your imagi- 
 nation, and his fall, from such a height to such a depth, 
 move your pity. I begin to feel a misgiving whether 
 it was right in me to shake your favorable opinion 
 of him and to rob him of your sympathy. But he is 
 such an immense historical personage that I must sup- 
 pose you would prefer viewing him in his true light to 
 retaining your partiality for him. Any pity I might 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 167 
 
 have felt for him is checked by these considerations. 
 I cannot forget that even after the Russian disaster he 
 had it in his power to conclude a p6ace on three several 
 occasions, on the first of which he would have remained 
 by far the most powerful sovereign in Europe, while 
 the least advantageous offer would have left him in 
 secure possession of France ; but he insisted on the 
 alternative, all or nothing. Can one much pity such 
 obstinacy when it loses all ? Still one might have pitied 
 the ruined gambler for crowns if there had been a little 
 return to right feeling or a little dignity in the close of 
 his life ; but instead of showing any sign of remorse for 
 his misdeeds, the chief employment of his exile was to 
 impose upon posterity by wilful perversions of contem- 
 porary history in the " Memorials " which he dictated at 
 St. Helena. 
 
 ' I see that you have read fort instead of "post in one 
 of the occurrences I mentioned as specimens of his indif- 
 ference to human life. Here are his own words : — 
 
 ' " L&, promenant un jour au milieu de nos positions, 
 dans les environs du Col de Tende, a titre de reconnais- 
 sance comme chef de I'artillerie, il me vint subitement 
 a I'id^e de lui donner le spectacle d'une petite guerre, 
 et j'ordonnai une attaque d'avant-poste. Nous fumes 
 vainqueurs, il est vrai ; mais evidemment il ne pouvait y 
 avoir de r^sultat. L'attaque 6tait une pure fantaisie, 
 et pourtant quelques hommes y resterent. Aussi plus 
 tard toutes les fois que le souvenir m'en est revenue ^ 
 1' esprit, je me le suis fort reproch^." 
 
 ' Well, then, you will say, though the fact is certain, 
 it appears at the same time that he was capable of a 
 twinge of conscience. But is that quite as certain as 
 the fact? If so, what a strange conscience that never 
 
168 BISHOP THIRL WALL'S 
 
 felt any qualm about the butcheries of Austerlitz and 
 Jaffa. As to Jaffa, you seem to have been thinking of 
 the story of his poisoning his own soldiers in the hos- 
 pital, which Lanfrey considers very questionable. But 
 there is no doubt whatever about the orders which he 
 gave for the execution of 2,500 Turkish prisoners, who 
 were marched down to the sands, divided into small 
 pelotons, and shot or bayoneted ' to a man, according to 
 his express directions, " en prenant des precautions de 
 fa§on a ce qu'il ne s"en ^chappe aucun." Several of his 
 officers refused to assist. He, in his despatches at the 
 time, described it as part of a very "brilliant" affair. 
 Afterwards, to Lord Ebrington at Elba, he tried to find 
 excuses for it, all amounting to a plea of convenience ; 
 it does not appear that it ever weighed a feather on his 
 conscience ; therefore I cannot help distrusting the 
 self-reproach he professed about the so much slighter 
 affair of the Col de Tende. And yet what would have 
 been said of an English general against whom such a 
 ' thing had been proved ? 
 
 ' Still, after all, was he, it may be asked, a more 
 thorough egoist, or more destitute of all sense of duty, 
 than, say, George IV. ? 
 
 " I do not think he was. It is very likely that 
 George would have been ready to make as great sacrifices 
 to Belial as Napoleon did to Moloch. But George was 
 never put to the test. Napoleon was ; and the terrible 
 intensity of his selfishness must be measured by the 
 millions of its victims. And yet all this would leave it 
 doubtful whether there was not something good and 
 kindly at the bottom of his nature. I would not have 
 you lightly give up the hope that there was ; but I 
 am afraid that you will find yourself at last forced to 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 169 
 
 abandon it. It seems too nearly certain that he never 
 opened his heart in a genuine, spontaneous, uncalcu- 
 lated SpanchemeMt to any human being. 
 
 'That at all events does make him a fit object for 
 pity, though not for sympathy ' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Stebet, 22 Feb., 1868. 
 
 ' Last night at the Athenseum, among the new books 
 of the season, I found Lord Lytton's " Miscellaneous 
 Works," a collection of his small pieces in three vols, 
 octavo, the second of which contains " The Student." 
 Happening to dip into an " Essay on the Reign of 
 Terror," I was struck by the following remark, which 
 seemed to me not unconnected with the subject of our 
 recent discussion. 
 
 ' " Robespierre reigned but by his hold over the club 
 of the Jacobins and the hearts of the women. A strange 
 subject for female enthusiasm ; but that usually follows 
 power and will." 
 
 ' I confess that I was not aware of the fact (of Robes- 
 pierre's popularity with any but the furies of the 
 guillotine), though I have read so many histories of the 
 Reign of Terror. But I am afraid that the remark is 
 not without foundation, though I should not have ven- 
 tured to make it myself; but as it comes from Lord 
 Lytton I should like to know what you think of it. 
 
 ' I suspect that if the French women had been polled 
 towards the end of Napoleon's career, their experience 
 of the conscription would have been found to have 
 cooled their enthusiasm for the conqueror. 
 
 ' The Reign of Terror, however, is an element which 
 ought to be taken into account in an estimate of 
 Napoleon's character. He had witnessed the Reign of 
 
 8 
 
170 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 Terror, was in fact professedly a Terrorist himself, that 
 is, a partisan of Robespierre and bosom friend of the 
 younger brother, though in his heart entirely disap- 
 proving of the judicial assassinations and butcheries, 
 not merely or chiefly as crimes, bat as something in his 
 judgment (as in Talleyrand's) far worse — as blunders. 
 I think it can hardly be doubted that his experience of 
 this period — of the ease with which an avocat like 
 Robespierre seized the Government of France and exer- 
 cised despotic power in the name of liberty, and with a 
 recklessness almost unexampled — that all this con- 
 tributed to impress him with that deep contempt for 
 mankind and disregard for human life which showed 
 itself alike in his civil and military history. He viewed 
 and treated men, whether in or out of uniform, as a 
 chess-player his pieces and pawns. I throw this out as 
 a possible extenuation of his conduct, though I believe 
 that, whatever had been his antecedents, his character 
 would have been the same. How much we want a little 
 of his military genius and mastery of details in that 
 Abyssinian adventure. The original thought of invad- 
 ing such a country — a troubled sea of rugged moun- 
 tains — for such an object, always appeared to me a 
 blunder almost as bad as a crime. But the manner 
 in which the project has been carried out, as if for the 
 express purpose of the greatest possible waste of means 
 for the smallest possible result, seems to betray an in- 
 fatuation without an example even in our own military 
 annals. It culminates in the importation of that troop 
 
 of elephants How beautiful it is of you to reject 
 
 the evidence of your senses,^ and to insist that my 
 
 writing is as clear as the day, even when you cannot 
 
 1 Fort road in mistake for posL 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 171 
 
 read it. That is true friendship ; be assured that it is 
 not lost on your ever affectionate friend ' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, ^ March, 1868. 
 
 ' I returned home on Saturday, after a journey which 
 lasted longer than I had anticipated. The express was 
 eighteen minutes behind its time, and being, I suppose, 
 in ill-humor on that account, took its revenge on me 
 by leaving me behind at Newport — of course rugless 
 and bookless. The feeling of utter indifference to life 
 which comes over one at such a moment is not to be 
 described. Somebody ought to write a tract to solve 
 the question, What can he (the stranded passenger) do 
 with himself? 
 
 ' I remained more than three hours in the waiting- 
 room, trying to read Marryat's " Pasha of Many Tales." 
 Perhaps a treatise on arithmetic would have answered 
 the purpose better. I also sipped the " Biglow Papers." 
 Perhaps they are really too good to be taken simply as 
 anodyne. The real misery, however, began at six, 
 when I set off, depriv-ed even of this meagre comfort, 
 in the dark, creeping, and halting at every station. It 
 was a favorite saying of poor dear Sedgwick, that 
 " all things come to an end ; " and this great truth 
 was never more remarkably illustrated than by the fact 
 that at half-past ten I actually found myself under my 
 own roof, .though with the poignant consciousness of 
 having lost some ten invaluable hours out of my life — 
 a reflection which is still very bitter to me. 
 
 'I have snatched a moment from business, not 
 merely to invite your sympathy, which I know will 
 overflow on me, but to ask a question. In that sweet 
 image you presented to my mind, as floating round me 
 
172 BISHOP THIRLWAIiL'S 
 
 like a guardian angel on my birthday, "I remember 
 being struck by your saying that you would have 
 entered upon your celestial functions "after having 
 'Petitioned for Napoleon." But you did not explain 
 what the petition was to have been for, or, in other 
 words, what it is I can do for him. Only, I suppose, 
 that if he himself could say what he wished, it would be 
 that his real character, which he took so much pains to 
 mask, should not be exposed to the light, and that none 
 who, in ignorance of the truth, think well of him should 
 be undeceived. Though I have no sympathy with his 
 wishes to be left in the dark in themselves, I have so 
 far as they coincide with yours, and therefore, though 
 I was at one time anxious that you should read Lan- 
 frey, I will not send it, until you assure me — laying 
 your hand on your heart — that you would like to see 
 
 it I have serious doubts whether you will be 
 
 the happier as well as the more enlightened for reading 
 it. But only let me know your honest wish. Alas ! 
 ' When my candidates have disappeared I shall only 
 have time to pack up for returning to town. Pray let 
 me hear that you are (for Nemesis' sake I will say) not 
 unwell.' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 7 March, 1868. 
 ' I suppose I did not tell you that I am to go to 
 town on Wednesday. It will be best, therefore, that 
 you should keep your letter out of the box, which I 
 may very likely not open before I return, which I am 
 afraid will not be until April. But le pauvre homme^ 
 shall be waiting at .the lodge to be taken to you. I 
 know that if he had his way he would rather go up the 
 
 chimney. But he must submit to his fate ' 
 
 1 hanhey's Eisiory of Napoleon. 
 
LETTERS TO A FEIEND. 173 
 
 '11 March, 1868. 
 
 ' - . • . Pray do as is most convenient to you as to 
 the box. 
 
 ' " Poor Napoleon " will be shivering at the lodge, 
 like a culprit waiting his trial. In agony of start- 
 ing ' 
 
 ' 1 Eegbnt Stkeet, 18 March, 1868. 
 
 'I am frightfully in arrear, and the first of your 
 three unanswered letters opens so large a field of in- 
 teresting and very difficult questions, ethical and psy- 
 chological, that they alone would occupy a far greater 
 number of sheets than I have for the present leisure to 
 fill. But I must say a few words on them 
 
 'Your admission of the truth of Lord Lytton's 
 general reflection does great credit to your candor, as 
 you make it with undisguised reluctance. But why 
 should you be so reluctant ? Your retort on Lord L. 
 is irresistible. It is to the effect : " Well, suppose 
 women have their weakness. Pray, my lord, have not 
 men theirs?" Did you never hear of a play called 
 " All for Love, or the World well lost ? " I am sure 
 Lord L. wo aid be the first to plead guilty to the soft 
 impeachment. And you might, I believe, safely have 
 made your retort more pointed, and have asked, Is it 
 women only, or men also, that are "influenced by 
 power and will " ? Napoleon certainly believed that 
 most thoroughly, and found it verified by the whole 
 experience of his life. 
 
 'But though I fully assent to the truth of the 
 general observation, and only object to it as too narrow 
 in its application to one-half only of mankind when 
 it is equally true of the whole, I must beg you not 
 
174 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 to make me responsible for it as regards the case of 
 Robespierre. I doubt, indeed, whether Lord Lytton 
 meant to refer to women who were personally acquainted 
 with Robespierre. If so, the remark would seem to be 
 utterly inapplicable. For it is evident that those whom 
 you mention were captivated not by the " influence of 
 power and will," but by something winning in his 
 apparent character. I thought the remark referred to 
 his general popularity among those who knew him only 
 by reputation. 
 
 'Moreover, I cannot give credit to Robespierre for 
 the possession of the qualities attributed to him by 
 Lord L. I do not consider him as a man of strong 
 mind or of strong will (and I understand " power " to 
 mean intellectual and not merely mechanical power). 
 I look upon him as a narrow-minded and morally weak 
 man. That is, perhaps, the best excuse that can be 
 pleaded for his conduct. I do not think the better of 
 him, but the worse of Lewes, for his sophistical attempts 
 to rehabilitate his client. How can it be honestly 
 doubted that Robespierre was the chief author of the 
 Reign of Terror, when we recollect that the mythical 
 conspiracies which filled the prisons with food for the 
 guillotine were the coinage of his weak and heated 
 brain, and that he emphatically claimed the system as 
 his own, when he killed his old schoolfellow, Camilla 
 Desmoulins, for desiring that it should cease? And 
 how every way futile is the reference to the numbers 
 who perished in the reaction which followed the Reign 
 of Terror, as if its authors were not also responsible for 
 the atrocities of the Terreur Blanche, which they had 
 provoked. 
 
 'As to Robespierre's character, I have no doubt 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 175 
 
 that if, tlirougli the mercy of ProTidence, he had been 
 kept to the end of his life in his obscure ^tude d'avoeat, 
 he would have passed for a gentle, humane, amiable 
 man. You know he advocated the abolition of capital 
 punishment ; I forget whether in the Assembly or in an 
 early pamphlet. The same may have been true of Marat 
 if he had never left the royal stables, and of some of 
 the most bloodthirsty of the pro-consuls. 
 
 ' But this ought not to affect our estimate of their 
 deeds. They either were or were not morally respon- 
 sible. If they were not, there was no " cruelty " and no 
 " fault," any more than in, a tiger when it tears a man. 
 If they were responsible, " fault " seems hardly the 
 proper term for such atrocious wickedness. Surely you 
 would not speak of the murder of Mr. Plow as a 
 "fault." If it was not the act of an insane man — as 
 was contended on account of its ferocity — it was an 
 enormous crime. If Robespierre was naturally well 
 fitted for the joys of domestic life, as I am quite ready 
 to believe, that seems to me not in the least to palliate, 
 but on the contrary to aggravate, his guilt, so far as he 
 was really answerable for the bloodshed of the Reign of 
 Terror, because it showed that he had not a mere heart 
 of stone (as might, perhaps, be pleaded on behalf of his 
 successor), but had been gifted with a fair share of 
 humane and tender instincts, which he stifled and 
 quenched where they would have restrained him from 
 sacrificing so many innocent victims. The only question 
 seems to be, how far his motives may be allowed to 
 mitigate his guilt. And there is certainly room for 
 doubt whether he was not the dupe of a sincere fanati- 
 cism, and believed that he was doing no more than the 
 public safety required. Unfortunately, he seems to 
 
176 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 have followed the guidance of abstract reasoning much 
 more than the impulse of enthusiasm, and it can hardly 
 be doubted that personal ambition was at least one of 
 his motives. 
 
 'There appears to me to be a fundamental fallacy 
 in your remark on the "selfishness" of Robespierre, 
 Goethe, and Napoleon. I hold it to be quite true that 
 they were all aUke and equally "selfish." But I also 
 hold that they were neither more nor less so than every 
 human being. Selfishness is one common property of 
 human nature. The difference between a good and a 
 bad man is not that the good man is the less selfish of 
 the two, but that he is able to control, by higher 
 motives, or by the force of benevolent affections, the 
 selfishness to which the other yields. That which 
 marks the bad man is not the greater intensity of 
 selfishness, but the absence of that resistance which, in 
 men not wholly depraved, would be opposed to it, by 
 conscience, or by self-respect, or by sense of honor, 
 or natural feeling, or other motives by which, not 
 eminently virtuous men only, but the bulk of mankind, 
 are governed. 
 
 ' Suppose a case. D. is the owner of a gold watch, 
 which is coveted alike and with exactly equal intensity 
 by A., B., and C. But A. has a conscience. His desire 
 for the watch impels him to work and save until he has 
 acquired the means of buying it. B. is lazy and iin- 
 scrupulous, and to him the desire may become a motive 
 to theft. To C, who is equally lazy, and still more 
 reckless, it may be a motive for murder. C. is clearly 
 the worst of the three, but not more selfish than A., 
 who is comparatively good. 
 
 ' To say that Goethe was not less selfish than Robes- 
 
LETTERS TO A ERIEND. I77 
 
 piewe or Napoleon is quite true, but does not help in 
 the least towards any discrimination of their respective 
 characters. It is true that G.'s social affections appear 
 to have been languid. His vrhole being vyas absorbed 
 in his devotion to science and art. This may no doubt 
 be considered as a form, though a very refined form, of 
 selfishness. But I do not think it warrants us in be- 
 lieving that he was as capable as Robespierre or Napo- 
 leon of atrocious crimes or of baseness ; though it may 
 have been very happy for him, as for all of us, that he 
 was not exposed to the like trial. 
 
 ' If Napoleon was a bad man, it was not because he 
 ardently desired universal empire. How many men are 
 there who, having the object before them, would not 
 have coveted it as eagerly? That which marks his 
 character as both bad and in the highest degree un- 
 amiable is that he never suffered any sense of right, 
 or of honor, or any relentings of humanity, to restrain 
 his cupidity. That, I think, you will see before 
 long 
 
 ' I have read those concluding chapters on Talk. 
 
 ' They are more sprightly and graceful than any- 
 thing I remember of the kind. But my own experience 
 does not bear out the observation on the superiority of 
 story-telling men. I never heard a story so well told 
 as by a young lady whose name you must not ask. 
 But I am inclined to think that a good deal may 
 depend on the nature of the story, and that when it is 
 humorous men may have the advantage. 
 
 ' I have not yet seen that Abyssinian history. It is 
 against our prospect of success. 
 
 ' I was very much pleased with the " Old Deccan 
 Days." I have also been interested by a translation of 
 
 8* 
 
178 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 an old Spanish collection of stories under tlie title of 
 "El Conde Lucanor." The original was written in 
 the middle of the fourteenth century, by a man of high 
 birth, familiar with Arabic literature. In it I found 
 my story of the " Magician of Toledo " — here Don 
 Ulan, who has a son, for whom he receives a promise 
 of preferment, which is eluded at every fresh step by 
 the ungrateful priest. I have no doubt that this was 
 imported into Spanish hterature from the Arabic, which 
 seems to have derived it from the Sanscrit. I must 
 shut up with thanks for all your good things, and espe- 
 cially for the verses ' 
 
 ' 1 Eegbnt Stkeet, 28 March, 1868. 
 
 ' - . . . According to my theory of ethics, it is not 
 quite correct to speak of selfishness as a vice, unless 
 you include in the notion of it something quite distinct 
 from the selfish instincts themselves. These, so far as 
 they are implanted in our nature, are morally indiffer- 
 ent, neither good nor bad, as they are independent of 
 the will, which must determine the moral quality of 
 every action. It is only when they come into conflict 
 with reason or duty that the indulgence of them becomes 
 faulty, or vicious, or criminal, according to the various 
 degrees of the obligation which has been violated. And 
 the selfish instinct is not so much the origin as the 
 occasion of the fault, vice, or crime, which properly 
 consists in the failure or misdirection of the will. It is, 
 in fact, simply the question, not as to the quality or the 
 intensity of the animal element in our nature — for 
 that is no more a moral element in man than in brutes 
 — but as to the relation in which this stands to the 
 properly human element. If that relation is one of 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 179 
 
 preponderance, the result is bad; if one of subordi- 
 nation, good. And even tbe coercion of the selfish 
 animal instincts by a strong will is not virtue unless 
 the motive be virtuous, and the strength of the motive 
 will be measured by the force of the selfish instinct 
 which it has to overcome ' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 11 April, 1868. 
 
 ' I know you are perplexed by my silence, especially 
 as you had a clear right to expect an acknowledgment 
 of the receipt of the books and the return of the letters. 
 But it is merely the old story, that I had some things 
 on my hands to which I have been absolutely forced 
 to postpone everything else, and I am still so far occu- 
 pied with them that I can only write very shortly 
 and hastily. I am the more sorry for this, as you 
 propose an interesting question of casuistry, which 
 well deserves more leisure than I can just now spare 
 for its discussion. Nor I think would it be easy for 
 any one to lay down a general formula which would 
 solve all such doubts. Much would depend on the 
 comparative dignity of the " pursuits " to be sacri- 
 ficed When I get up in the morning I never 
 
 know what hour of the day I can call my own. The 
 first letter I open may upset all my plans, and compel 
 me to lay aside everything I have in hand for some 
 new unforeseen engagement. A new book which you 
 cannot help reading has a like effect. Here has arrived 
 the " Life of Bunsen," two volumes, of some 1,300 
 pages altogether. I had begun to devote an hour to 
 Freeman's " History of the Norman Conquest," which 
 is a capital work, and becom'ing more and more in- 
 teresting as it proceeds. Now I have my choice 
 
180 BISHOP THIRL WALL'S 
 
 between it and the " Memoirs," as it is quite impos- 
 sible for me to carry on both together, the hour at 
 night being as much as I can spare for English 
 reading. 
 
 ' I do not wonder that the Dissenters are elated 
 with the imminent disestablishment of the Irish Church 
 as the first blow to the fabric nearer home. It is quite 
 possible that, without living to the age of Methuselah, 
 I may turn out to be the last Bishop of St. David's who 
 sat in Parliament. 
 
 ' I was very much struck before I left London with 
 the intense excitement which prevailed on the Irish 
 question. I have observed nothing comparable to it 
 since the passing of the Reform Bill of 1832. I dined 
 on the Wednesday which divided the debate with the 
 Archbishop of Armagh, where were a great many of 
 the Irish Protestant magnates. They actually talked 
 of " flying the country," as if they were on the eve of a 
 civil war ; and the Conservatives declare that they will 
 contest every step that is to be taken on Gladstone's 
 Resolution, just like the Tories in '32, and I suppose 
 with like result. Addio, Cara.' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 17 April, 1868. 
 
 ' I fulfil my promise of returning the two very char- 
 acteristic and interesting letters, which I have just read 
 over again. The pile accumulated during my absence 
 will prevent me from adding much of my own. I 
 thought of you yesterday very often, and with sym- 
 pathy for the suffering which I knew you were under- 
 going. I know, by frequent experience, the peculiar 
 feeling of dreariness and depression which always 
 comes over a wedding party as soon as the bride and 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 181 
 
 bridegroom have left, and I believe it is generally in 
 proportion to the happiness of the wedding. It comes 
 near to the sensation of being left behind by your train. 
 It pervades the whole company, and sometimes they 
 betray it by desperate and fruitless efforts to shake it 
 off, or conceal it under a show of boisterous merriment, 
 dancing, &c. 
 
 ' But when the departure is the beginning of a long 
 separation between dear relatives and friends, the feel- 
 ing must deepen into one of absolute sadness, as I am 
 afraid you experienced yesterday. But as I trust that 
 in all other respects everything passed off happily, I 
 have no doubt that to-day the sense of abandonment 
 will be much softened, while the pleasure of sympathy 
 with the bright prospects of your friends will be gaining 
 strength. 
 
 ' I find the interest of the " Memoirs of Bunsen " 
 quite absorbing. I cannot recollect having ever enjoyed 
 anything of the kind — if of any kind — so deeply. I am 
 really thankful to have lived to read it. Nothing indeed 
 could raise Bunsen higher than he stood in my estima- 
 tion. But just on that account the more intimate 
 acquaintance which the book gives with the details of 
 his life and work, is to one who had the privilege of 
 knowing him unspeakably interesting. I am only in 
 the last quarter of the first volume, and am only sorry 
 that there is not more to come. The Baroness has 
 executed a very difficult task with admirable judgment, 
 practical ability, and mastery of language. I only wish 
 it had been possible to insert the originals of the Ger- 
 man letters in an appendix or thin third volume. But 
 the German translation will probably be less costly than, 
 the original, and without the embellishments, which. 
 
182 BISHOP THIELW ALL'S 
 
 add indeed immensely to' its value, but likewise to the 
 price.' 
 
 'Abeegwim Palace, 21 April, 1868. 
 
 ' .... I have now an odd business on my hands. 
 A clergyman — who among mortals is known by the not 
 very uncommon name of John Jones, but in the higher 
 sphere, in which one fancies him sitting, on a cloud, 
 with a long white beard waving in the wind and a harp 
 before him, is styled JcZns^/n — thought it would be a 
 good thing to translate the Queen's " Diary " into 
 Welsh, and asked the royal leave to do so. The Queen 
 was in doubt, and, through Sir T. Biddulph, consulted 
 me on the question. I gave some reasons for advising 
 that the permission should be given ; 'and as my only 
 doubt was that the translator might fall into mistakes 
 for want of sufficient familiarity with some of the ob- 
 jects described, I in an unguarded moment offered to 
 look over some of the proof sheets. The permission 
 was consequently given on condition of their being sent 
 to me, and I have received the first The trans- 
 lation is in general excellent The interest of 
 
 Bunsen's " Memoirs " grows upon me, though, as I am 
 now in the middle of the second volume, it will be more 
 and more saddening to the close. 
 
 ' How odd it is that he should have been so like the 
 wicked Napoleon ! and still more that I had not observed 
 the likeness until I found it mentioned in the "Memoir." 
 Hardly less curious is it that there should be a likeness 
 between two men almost as different from one another, 
 Niebuhr and Lord Russell. This, too, I had failed to 
 observe, though the moment it was suggested to me I 
 saw it clearly ' 
 
LETTERS TO A FEIEND. 183 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 28 April, 1868. 
 ' . . . . Can one be too thankful for this Abyssinian 
 success? It was only the evening before that I was 
 depressed by reading a most disheartening description 
 of the hopeless strength and resources of Magdala, 
 taken from the travels of some German, -who believed 
 that vre were going to ruin there. The event does not 
 alter my opinion of the wisdom of the expedition : but 
 the general and the army have left nothing to be 
 desired.' 
 
 • Abekgwili Palace, 4 May, 1868. 
 
 ' - . . . You know that it is impossible for you to be 
 too extravagant in your praise of me. It is not that it 
 tickles my vanity, but it delights me as a proof of your 
 partiality. What are friends worth if they say no more 
 than you deserve ? Nothing could illustrate the force 
 of your affection more strongly than your preference of 
 my preaching to that of the Bishop of Oxford. His 
 sermon on the occasion of the Keble Memorial has been 
 reprinted verbatim by the " Guardian." I should have 
 been glad if I had been able to produce such a brilliant 
 and ingenious composition ; but I will own that I 
 should have been very sorry to have preached it, and 
 therefore resign myself the more contentedly to the \ 
 lack of the gift. 
 
 ' Lord Derby's reappearance in the House of Lords 
 has not shown him in an advantageous light.^ His 
 
 1 The late Lord Derby's resignation of the Premiership, on the 
 ground of ill-health, was announced in both Houses February 26, 1868. 
 Mr. Gladstone laid his Resolutions about the Irish Church on the table 
 March 23. An amendment moved 'by Lord Stanley was defeated, and 
 when the Houses met after Easter the late Lord Derby, without formal 
 notice, and as a private peer, called attention to the Resolutions in tile 
 House of Lords. Lord Russell replied to him. 
 
184 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 sarcasms fell harmless from Lord Russell ; while, for 
 want of taking the ordinary pains of reading the Reso- 
 lutions he was going to attack, his main objection 
 proved to be utterly groundless. He betrayed more of 
 the spirit of a partisan than if he had been still in the 
 Cabinet, and a soreness which he would not have felt if 
 his conscience had been at ease about the manoeuvres 
 by which he " dished the Whigs." ' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 6 May, 1868. 
 
 ' .... As the carriage holds four, if you can get 
 another lady, whom you like, to fill the fourth place, it 
 will be all the better. It would look like a bravado in 
 me to face four ladies single-handed : but it so happens 
 that I shall have John to back me. 
 
 ' I cannot pledge myself to let you into Chaos. It has 
 become too dreadful to be even looked at with impunity. 
 To any one who, like you, has been used to light, order, 
 and neatness, the spectacle it now presents must be not 
 only painful but injurious. 
 
 ' You see to-day would be perfect, if it was not for 
 the angry howl of the wind, which somids more like 
 November than May. To-morrow I hope the sun wiU 
 be equally bright, and the wind hushed.' 
 
 'Abekgwili Palace, \i May, 1868. 
 ' I am glad to have a sign of life from you, to show 
 that your exertions at the ball, of which I heard from 
 John, have left some life in you. But it could not have 
 shown itself in a more unfortunate shape than such a 
 request. I am sure that if you knew the point in my 
 foot which gives me pain you would not select that to 
 kick or tread upon ; and I am equally sure that if you 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 185 
 
 had been aware of the intense loathing with which I 
 think of the subject of your note ^ you would not have 
 
 recalled it to my mind. When Mrs. P- , in the 
 
 simplicity of her heart, and no doubt believing it to be 
 an agreeable topic to me, told me at dinner on Thurs- 
 day that she possessed the hated volume, it threw a 
 shade over my enjoyment of the evening, and it was 
 with a great effort that, after a pause, I could bring 
 myself to resume the conversation. If I could buy up 
 every copy for the flames, without risk of a reprint, I 
 should hardly think any price too high. Let me entreat 
 you never again to remind me of its existence. 
 
 ' I am in the agony of packing, and also grieved to 
 exchange all the loveliness of nature for the wretched, 
 hot, and dusty arena to which I am going.' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Stkeet, 28 May, 1868. 
 
 ' . . . . Yesterday at breakfast at Lord Houghton's, 
 among other pleasant people, I met a Mr. and Mrs. 
 Payne, who had been domiciled at Rome, and a centre 
 of the best society there, ever since tiie happy days of 
 the Palazzo CafEarelli. Mrs. P. is a niece of Evelina — 
 a Burney. She was very communicative, and I was 
 glad to have my Roman reminiscences pleasantly re- 
 vived. She also set before me the extreme shortness of 
 the time now required for the journey, taken easily. 
 The time it occupied when I travelled to Rome would 
 now be sufiicient for going and returning, with a fort- 
 night's stay. Considering that just half a century has 
 elapsed since the year of my visit, I am surprised at the 
 
 1 Primitue; or Essays and Poems on Various Subjects, by Connop 
 Thirlwall, eleven years of age. 
 
186 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 liveliness of my recollections. I was able to describe 
 the exact' position of a little visited church and many 
 of its architectural details. Mrs. P. complained of the 
 immense influx of flying visitors caused by the facility 
 of the journey. 
 
 ' My boyish feeling about Napoleon was simply one 
 of patriotic hatred of the public enemy, caught from all 
 around me, yet not unmixed with admiration. My 
 present opinion has been formed on grounds of which 
 as a boy I had not the slightest suspicion.' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 8 June, 1868. 
 
 ' - . . .It would have been unreasonable, almost 
 sinful, to expect that a week in which I had enjoyed so 
 many pleasant things, should close in unclouded pros- 
 perity. When you left me my good fortune departed 
 from me. Even before I started from Abergavenny I 
 began to conceive disagreeable misgivings, from the 
 great length of time I had to wait for the train : and 
 these grew stronger on the way to Newport : indeed all 
 that my hopes clung to was the information I received 
 at Llanover, that the Abergavenny train was intended 
 to catch the express. When on my arrival I found that 
 the express had gone a quarter of an hour before, I was 
 only surprised that I had been so near catching it. But 
 the misery which followed was pretty well of its kind. 
 First, some three hours and a half waiting for the next 
 train, which set off a little after six. Then the 
 stoppages — always longer on a Saturday than on any 
 other day of the week, and in a holiday week at the 
 maximum. 
 
 ' Before we came to Neath, I was forced to put the 
 Popes — who had been my chief comfort — to bed. Then 
 
LETTERS TO A EEIEND. 187 
 
 I had written a note, whicli I intended to drop at the 
 gate of the vicarage at Carmarthen, as I went by, to 
 announce my intention of preaching at St. Peter's the 
 next morning. But we came too late to deliver it, the 
 vicarage, like every decent household, having gone to 
 rest : so that the sermon did not get preached. Between 
 eleven arid twelve I sat down to a meal, which half an 
 hour later would have been an early breakfast.' 
 
 '19 Jime, 1868. 
 ' I know you will like to see a most pleasant letter 
 which I have received from Baroness Bunsen. I hope 
 you have passed from the state of ailment to one of 
 betterment, and are enjoying this loveliest of all Junes. 
 It seems to me incredible while. I look at it. We cut 
 the grass in the meadow last Monday tinder a most 
 inauspicious mass of dark clouds. I expected nothing 
 but torrents of rain and ruin to my hay, for the dry 
 weather had already then lasted three weeks — for our 
 climate a miracle — but lo! on Tuesday afternoon all 
 cleared up again, and ever since has been more brilliant 
 than ever. Beside the feast to the eye of a hayfield 
 among flowers and wood, there has been the satisfaction 
 of constantly growing assurance that the hay of the 
 meadow at least, which is to be carted to-day, will be 
 got in without a drop of rain, and in the perfection 
 
 insured by a hot sun with a fresh breeze Pray 
 
 remember me very kindly to Lady Llanover. When I 
 think of the pleasure I enjoyed in her conversation 
 during the drive in her pony-carriage through those 
 lovely grounds, I feel that I ought not to have grumbled 
 at anything that befell me the same day.' ^ 
 
 1 Missing a train. 
 
188 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ■ Abbrgwili Palace, 23 June, 1868. 
 
 ' .... If a story of a revenant is told it is sure to 
 come to you. I have always been better able to realize 
 such stories since I had my experience — which I think 
 I related to you — of waking under the impression that 
 I had just seen my servant standing by my bedside and 
 calling me. 
 
 'I got up and put on my dressing-gown, and was 
 proceeding with my toilette, when I noticed some ap- 
 pearances which gradually convinced me that he could 
 not have been there that morning. The same thing 
 occurred to me again, only the illusion did not last so 
 long, being disturbed by the remembrance of the first. 
 I know this is not an exact parallel to a case in which 
 the image is presented to the waking eye, but I think 
 it is a phenomenon of the same class ' 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 21 July, 1868. 
 ' While " pining for a letter from me," you are 
 evidently unconscious how indispensably necessary it 
 was that I should first receive one from you, that I 
 might have something to say. You have an inexhaust- 
 ible fund of news, anecdotes, and strange adventures, 
 which is constantly replenished by your correspondents, 
 even when you are not yourself stirring. But I might 
 live on for months without any materials for a letter 
 but such as I might spin out of my own brain, and that 
 would be stuff, not for a lettei-, but for an essay. To 
 myself, indeed, my sessions at my desk, my travels 
 round Chaos, and my excursions into the garden, are 
 not devoid of interest, but they will not bear to be 
 related ; and my correspondence, instead of being a 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 189 
 
 fund of amusement, is the dreariest of all my official 
 occupations. Since John left me with his two girls my 
 life has been one of perfect monotony. I can hardly 
 say that the loveliness of the weather has yet been 
 broken here. Some clouds passed over it yesterday, but 
 without rain, and to-day it is as brilliant as ever. Now, 
 however, thanks to your letter, I shall be able nearly 
 to fill a sheet. That story of the " Hunter and the 
 Tigress" is both sensational and picturesque in the 
 highest degree. But you have a doubt whether the skin 
 
 in the drawing-room of the D 's was that of the 
 
 defeated tigress ; if so, one would have liked to know 
 how she was killed when her enemy escaped.^ The 
 cruellest of all tiger stories is that told by Atkinson 
 in his " Travels on the Amour," of the Tartar princess 
 who, having eloped with a lover, was carried off by 
 a tiger while they stopped for a few minutes oh the 
 road. 
 
 ' I wish I could recommend any books that would 
 
 be useful to Mr. C , with whom I was much pleased. 
 
 But I do not even understand the subject on which he 
 is going to write. The " object of literary criticism," 
 indeed, is intelligible enough, though admitting of va- 
 rious descriptions. But I should have thought that, 
 when the object was once ascertained, the limits, as 
 
 I The story here alluded to is that Mr. D , when out shooting in 
 
 India, came suddenly upon a tigress, in a place where he had not expected 
 to meet with one. She was sitting holt upright, but as soon as she saw 
 him she came towards him. He fixed his eyes upon her, and kept his 
 gun levelled at her while he retreated, walking backwards. She followed 
 him slowly, step by step. Just as he saw she was about to spring, he 
 tripped and fell into a small stream which ran unperceived behind him. 
 
 The tigress cleared both the stream and Mr. D and went straight on, 
 
 and he escaped in safety. 
 
190 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 excluding all that is foreign to the object, -would be 
 determined at the same time. 
 
 ' I read the " Spanish Gipsy " about a month ago, 
 and enjoyed it very much. Perhaps, in point of form, 
 it is an imperfection that it is neither drama nor epic, 
 but it has the advantage of greater. variety in being 
 both. 
 
 ' I admit that there are cases in which Lanfrey con- 
 demns Napoleon in which a jury before whom he was 
 tried for his life would rightly acquit him ; but a his- 
 torian cannot act on the principle of " giving the benefit 
 of a doubt." And you know that when a man is ac- 
 quitted on that ground he saves his life, but loses his 
 character. I did not myself notice any judgment of 
 Lanfrey's which I did not think perfectly just. 
 
 ' I thought that " Avonhoe," though pleasant read- 
 ing, had a didactic flavor, which would have injured 
 " Stone Edge." The merit of the last is what in Ger- 
 man is called objectivity. 
 
 ' . . . . Why should you be sorry about being 
 
 brought up and the property administered in the Con- 
 servative interest, until you know whether that means 
 Tory or Radical ? Does not Disraeli call himself a Con- 
 servative, and does anybody know which he is ? 
 
 ' I have consulted my privy council as to the chance 
 of my publishing my " Llangathen Sermon," and I am 
 told there is none whatever. Surely this branch of 
 literature is already rather overloaded. It is easier 
 to define the " object " of sermon-writing than its 
 "limits." . . . .' 
 
LETTERS TO A FEIEND. 191 
 
 ' Abebgwili Palace, 5 Aug., 1868. 
 
 ' - . . . Though, as I observed, the weather is the 
 staple material of our correspondence, and our one piece 
 de resistance, you have never yet informed me of your 
 views and feelings on this vital point ; neither how it 
 agrees with you, or how you like it. I do not know 
 whether you are one of the many who have been grum- 
 bling at it, or of the few who, like myself, have enjoyed 
 it intensely, with pleasure only alloyed by the reflection 
 on the harm it is doing among the poor sheep and 
 cattle. At any rate, it is something which few will see 
 twice in the course of their lives. One can hardly help 
 speculating on the cause of such an extraordinary oc- 
 currence. You remember that the strangely cold and 
 misty summer of a few years back was attributed to 
 the proximity of some enormous iceberg, which had 
 floated out of the Polar Sea into lower latitudes. I 
 have been reminded of this by the article in the " Corn- 
 hill" on the great coming eclipse. It seems that the 
 sun from time to time sends out globules, that is, masses 
 only two or three times as big as our globe, and hot 
 enough to melt everything earthly into vapor. May 
 it be that it has shot out some mass of unusual bulk, or 
 else to an unusual distance, and that to this we owe our 
 three or four months of almost unbroken fine weather? 
 I dare say you can answer this question quite as well 
 as the Astronomer Royal. Still, interesting as it is, it 
 was not for the sake of consulting you upon it that, I 
 began writing this letter, but chiefly to let you know 
 that I am going to send you the last " Saturday Re- 
 view," which contains three articles interesting to 
 ladies : one, of the richest impertinence, on " Pretty 
 
192 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 Preachers ; " another, not so lively, on " Spoiled Wo- 
 men ; " and a third, which I can say nothing about, on 
 the " Rights of Married Women." 
 
 ' Beside this, however, I want to- know what are your 
 plans for the next month or two. Did not I hear of 
 some Breton Eisteddfod? If so, are you going to it? 
 
 and when .?....' 
 
 'Abbrgwili Palace, 10 Aug., 1868. 
 
 '. . . . Do not, however, suppose that my solar 
 
 globule is nearing us. It is supposed never to advance 
 
 far beyond the solar atmosphere. One would like to 
 
 pass a little time in the centre, where it is believed that 
 
 you are sheltered iiom the outward heat of the great 
 
 furnace, like ice in a red-hot crucible. But I think I 
 
 would rather make the tour of the planets than even 
 
 go inside the sun. Were you ever at Birr Castle ? and 
 
 if not, why not ? Should not you like to look through 
 
 the great telescope ? I have been reading about it in 
 
 "Senior's Irish Journal." There you see is another 
 
 glimpse of Chaos. But how much are you the wiser 
 
 for it? Is it not alarming to hear tba^ Manchester is 
 
 put on water-rations like a besieged town ? and what is 
 
 to become of Carmarthen, where I heard a fortnight 
 
 ago that they had only a supply for four weeks, which 
 
 can hardly have been much increased by any rain that 
 
 has fallen since, for it has never come down in good 
 
 earnest even for the short time it lasted. Let us make 
 
 the most of the present.' 
 
 ' Abergwili Palace, 13 Aug., 1868. 
 'You must let the Indian Rothschild tell his own 
 story, fancying him in a magnificent room of his new 
 palace, in a circle of young merchants eager to profit 
 by his experience. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 193 
 
 ' " It is no mighty wonder if those who set out in 
 life with a good fortune amass great wealth ; but that 
 was not my lot. My father was a merchant, but he 
 died before I was born, leaving but little to my mother, 
 and she was deprived of that through the villany of her 
 kinsmen, and forced to take shelter in the house of a 
 friend, where she lived upon alms. As I grew up, 
 however, she prevailed upon a schoolmaster to teach me 
 reading, writing, and ciphering gratuitously. I had 
 even a little turn for drawing; but nothing had my 
 mother and I between us in the world, save our wooden 
 bowl and earthen jug. 
 
 ' " One day she said to me, ' My son, you should be 
 a merchant like your father. There is a banker in the 
 town who is generous as well as rich, and, perhaps, he 
 may advance you a small sum to start with in trade. 
 Vishachala is his name. Go to him, and ask him for a 
 loan.' Upon this I went to Vishachala's house. As I 
 entered the counting-house I heard him speaking in an 
 angry tone to a young man. ' A clever fellow,' said 
 he, ' would be able to make a fortune with that dead 
 mouse,' pointing to one that lay on the floor. ' But as 
 for you, I have lent you large sums, and I hardly 
 expect to see either principal or interest again.' Upon 
 this I took up the mouse, and requested Vishachala to 
 let me carry it away as a loan. He smiled, and said, 
 ' Well, but you must give me a receipt.' So, having 
 neither palm-leaf nor writing-reed, I scratched a rude 
 figure of a mouse on one of his boxes, and went away. 
 
 ' " As I walked home, dangling my mouse by the 
 tail, I passed a house where a cat was sitting at the 
 door. At the sight of the mouse she made a mouth, 
 as they do at a bird in a cage, and seemed ready to 
 
 9 
 
194 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 spring at it. Her master, seeing her longing, asked 
 me, ' What wilt take, lad, for thy small game ? ' I 
 answered, ' "What you please, sir ; ' adding, however, to 
 do justice to my commodity, 'it is a plump, fresh 
 mouse.' So he put two handfuls of peas into my bowl. 
 That was my first stroke of business, and the origin of 
 all my fortune. 
 
 ' " I went home, pounded my peas, and having filled 
 my jug at the fountain, went out of the town, and 
 seated myself at a cross-road, under the shade of a 
 banyan-tree. Presently came a party of woodcutters 
 out of the forest, thirsty and faint. I asked them 
 politely whether they would not stop and refresh them- 
 selves with a mouthful of good pease-pudding and a 
 draught of cool water fresh from the fountain. They 
 did not want pressing, and, being pleased with my 
 manners as well as with my goods, paid me liberally. 
 Each gave me a couple of sticks. These I took to the 
 market in a bundle, and with what they fetched laid in 
 a fresh stock of peas, which I disposed of in the same 
 way. I continued to drive such a thriving trade, that 
 at last I was able to purchase a whole day's cuttings 
 of wood. Then happened a piece of good luck, such as 
 never fails to betide those who bestir themselves, and 
 keep a keen look-out to the main chance. A heavy 
 fall of rain stopped the supply of wood for the use of 
 the town, and gave me the monopoly of the market. I 
 did not fail to make the most of this blessing of the 
 gods, and invested the profits in a shop of my own. 
 This was the great and decisive turn in my fortune. 
 From a small hucksterer I became master of a ware- 
 house, and then a general merchant. Everything I 
 touched turned to gold. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 195 
 
 ' " But when I had become the richest of the rich I 
 did not forget the author of my prosperity, the banker 
 Vishachala. I caused a mouse to be made in pure gold, 
 and went with it to his counting-house. I asked him 
 whether he recollected me. He shook his head and 
 begged me to say what I wanted. I said' I had come 
 to repay him an advance which he made to me, both 
 capital and interest. He requested me to help him 
 in searching for the entry in his books. I said I 
 could show it at once. Thereupon I pointed to the 
 figure of the mouse which I had scratched on the box. 
 This brought the whole scene back to his memory. I 
 then placed the golden mouse on the figure, and said, 
 ' There, sir, you have the capital with interest.' 
 
 ' " I need not tell you that he afterwards gave 
 me his only daughter in marriage, and that I became 
 heir of his immense wealth. You also know that I 
 am known all over India by the nickname of the 
 ' Golden Mouse.' But few are acquainted with its 
 history "' 
 
 ' Abergwili Palace, 17 Aug., 1868. 
 
 ' . . . . But I am constantly annoyed by the style 
 even of authors who have considerable reputation — for 
 
 instance, , who believes himself to be rather choice 
 
 in his English — not with regard to the, words, but to 
 the order in which they are placed. In almost every 
 page I find atrocious violations of the genius of the 
 language, which requires the verb, wherever it is pos- 
 sible, to be immediately followed by the noun which it 
 governs, and the noun to precede the pronoun which 
 relates to it, .... ' 
 
196 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 'Abbkgwili Palace, 21 Aug., 1868. 
 
 ' - . . . You almost seem to put in a modest apology 
 for wishing to travel to the sun : as If there was any- 
 body who would not be in ecstasy at the prospect of 
 such a journey. 
 
 ' I only meant that, as wishes cost nothing, there is 
 no reason, while we are about it, why we should con- 
 fine them to the Solar System, and not make the 
 Grand Tour of the Milky Way, with Arjuna, if we 
 could get the use of Indra's chariot to mount to the 
 
 sky.' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 25 Sept., 1868. 
 
 ' . . , . I can endorse everything that he says in 
 praise of Tyndall's address at Norwich. To me it 
 afforded a particular satisfaction, as adding the weight 
 of his authority to that which I had said on the same 
 subject in my Swansea address. I was very glad to 
 hear from him — in the letter which you saw — that 
 there was nothing in it to which a man of science 
 would object, and it afforded me still greater pleasure 
 to find him so distinctly expressing the same view. 
 
 ' .... It (the Irish Church) is a question with 
 many sides, and yet so few people who talk and write 
 about it appear to have looked at more than one. A 
 great number of votes will probably be given on the 
 same side from entirely different, perhaps exactly oppo- 
 site, motives. I cannot bring myself to feel any alarm 
 
 at the prospect of 's discomfiture. A man who has 
 
 no mind or will of bis own is not the man for these 
 times. Nothing was wanting to the people who pro- 
 duced Julius Csesar's endowment of their church but to 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 197 
 
 have annexed to it a decree of St. Peter for his canoni- 
 zation.i 
 
 ' The kitten ^ is too perfect when one is not able to 
 stroke it. 
 
 ' I am at present most interested by the news from 
 Spain. I do so very much wish to hear of that wretched 
 Queen being finally sent adrift. Not that one can help 
 feeling some degree of pity for one who was the vic- 
 tim of diplomatic intrigues. But she is not the less 
 intolerable ; and the coolness of her proposal to be 
 allowed to retain her power under the title of Regent 
 shows how much she reckons on human folly. Yet the 
 prospect for Spain seems to be only an exchange of 
 despotism for anarchy.' 
 
 'Abekgwili Palace, 5 Oct., 1868. 
 'I fully appreciate the kindness of the precedence 
 you have given me over such a host of correspondents. 
 I should have liked, if I had been able, to return the 
 Durham letter on Saturday, and now rather regret 
 that I did not, reserving the rest for future notice ; for 
 your bijdget of good things was so multifarious, that I 
 had not then time to digest or consider it, and each 
 
 item seems to call for a little word I agree 
 
 with you in condemning your friend's view of the Irish 
 Church question. His fundamental -proposition, that 
 the alleged grievance is only a sentimental one, is, to 
 say the least, disputable and precarious, assuming what 
 many would deny ; but if it was admitted, it would 
 remind me of a doctor who had a theory that no dis- 
 ease was so bad as a cold, and when any one said he 
 
 1 This refers to a certain mediseval church said to have been dedi- 
 cated to the Virgin Mary by Julius Caesar. 
 ^ A photograph. 
 
198 BISHOP THIEL WALL'S 
 
 had only a cold, used to say, " Only a cold ! What 
 would you have? — the plague?" Purely it is the 
 sentiment of being aggrieved that is the essence of 
 every grievance. Here let me say, that delightful as is 
 the extract from the French review (which is worthy of 
 the pen of the celebrated Assolant), the mistake of the 
 German paper is still more exquisite, and more worthy 
 of a French than a German writer. Do you remember 
 that some years ago a play had a great run at Paris, in 
 which the plot turned mainly on the intrigues of the 
 Earl of Derby to be elected Lord Mayor ? ^ 
 
 ' Why should not Gladstone have called Finlen " a 
 real working man," if he believed this to be the case, 
 even though he had been not a Whig, but a Tory ? On 
 the other hand, Mr. Mill never professed to be anything 
 but an out-and-out Radical. I am afraid you have been 
 hazarding some unsafe assertion as to the possibility of 
 Whigs and Radicals having some things in common. 
 
 'Though one rejoices in the expulsion of Isabella, 
 the Spanish prospect is gloomy on account of the gen- 
 eral apathy of the people, who take no interest in the 
 parties who will be contending for the mastery, and 
 even the very worst of regular governments is better 
 than a chronic civil war, which is most likely to end in 
 the restoration of the rejected dynasty. 
 
 ' It was Mr. Basevi, brother of the ill-fated architect, 
 who initiated me in the science and art of conveyancing 
 — one of the three branches of the law to which I 
 devoted as many years, which I do not a-t all regret. 
 How could you fancy that I had heard of any " pending 
 
 1 The German paper had discoursed on the patriotism of Lord Mayo 
 in giving up the better and loftier title of the Lord Mayor in order to 
 accept the Governoi^Generalehip of India. 
 
LETTERS TO A TKIEND. 199 
 
 marriages " ? Do they make a noise in the Sahara or 
 in the Arctic Ocean? ^ 
 
 'I have everything yet to learn as to the doctrine 
 of the Caledonian Arthur, not even knowing whether 
 he is supposed to be a distinct person from the hero of 
 Tintagel. 
 
 ' ' I knew of the first return of Miss Clark's swift, 
 and am glad to hear that it continues faithful. When 
 I consider what a fund of affectionate attachment there 
 is in the breast of each of these dear little creatures, 
 I feel more than ever indignant at the wanton and 
 stupid cruelty with which they are massacred. Miss 
 Bremer, on her voyage to America, saw a little bird 
 almost spent with the fatigue of its long flight, and 
 trying to rest upon the mast or rigging of the ship. 
 Two monsters — an Englishman and a Spaniard — in 
 spite of her remonstrances, kept scaring it away until 
 it dropped, when they put it into a cage, where it died 
 in a couple of hours. She believed in a Nemesis — that 
 the time would come when they would seek rest and 
 find none. She observes that on a Swedish vessel such 
 a stranger would have been welcomed with crumbs of' 
 bread. 
 
 ' Did you observe that the Pope is going to invite 
 the Anglican Bishops, with other schismatics, to attend 
 his General Council? Would it not be a nice oppor- 
 tunity of seeing Rome, St. Peter's, and a General 
 Council into the bargain ? Would there be any harm 
 in accepting the invitation, if it leaves me at liberty to 
 vote as I will ? How funny it would be to find myself 
 sitting by the side of Manning, who might protect me 
 from being hustled. Addio, Carissima. 
 
 ' The title of that French play was " La Popularity." 
 
200 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 It was the work of an eminent dramatist — I think 
 Alfred de la Vigne.' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 27 Oct., 1868. 
 
 ' You are evidently in a state of great darkness as 
 to the nature and value of rumor, when you take it 
 for granted that it always has some ground. Some few 
 months ago I received a number of applications for a 
 living in North Wales which was transferred to my 
 patronage. Admonished by experience, I began by 
 making inquiry as to the fact of the vacancy. It turned 
 out that the incumbent was perfectly well, and that it 
 was only at a distance that anything was supposed to 
 ail him. There was not only no ground, but no dis- 
 coverable occasion, for the rumor. But when rumor 
 is so modest as not even to report me seriously ill, you 
 ought to feel quite sure that there is nothing at the 
 bottom worth inquiring about. 
 
 ' I was obliged yesterday to defer reading your letter 
 until after post time, or I would have returned the en- 
 closures at once, reserving any remarks upon them for a 
 later occasion. 
 
 'As* to Lady 's business, I am overwhelmed 
 
 with confusion, but am forced to own that from the 
 date of our conversation (which has itself escaped my 
 recollection) until this the subject never recurred to my 
 mind. I can, however, plead in excuse that I am quite 
 conscious of this defect, and, when I can, always require 
 that questions on matters of business should be laid 
 before me in black and white. You seem to have 
 
 supposed that Lady 's was one to which I could 
 
 give an immediate answer, and are also under the (in 
 this case unfortunate) delusion that one of the most 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. ■ 201 
 
 treaclierous of memories is singularly retentive — as if 
 you should take a sieve for a saucepan. Now, however, 
 that I have the question on paper, I may say that 
 I believe it could not be answered without further par- 
 ticulars, such as the original title to the vault, whether 
 by Faculty or otherwise, and the precise nature of the 
 alterations contemplated. But it must also be observed 
 that the necessity of a Faculty may be taken in two 
 senses. It might be legally necessary, and yet practi- 
 cally needless. 
 
 ' As in the restoration or rebuilding of churches, a 
 Faculty is not taken out in one case of a thousand, and 
 yet it is legally necessary in all, unless the proposed 
 alteration is of such a nature as to ajffeet the rights 
 of other parties. But pray remember that I speak only 
 as a private individual, and that as bishop I have no 
 voice in such matters out of my court. And how 
 strange it is that you should have asked my opinion, 
 when you could have got one so very much better from 
 your father. 
 
 ' Now a word on your correspondent. I not only 
 most sincerely sympathize with his very natural_ per- 
 plexity, but consider him as an ill-used man. I have no 
 doubt that he could write a capital essay, but hardly 
 without a subject. It is mere Pharaonic cruelty to set 
 him to making bricks without straw. It seems to me 
 a positive breach of faith to use any unmeaning or . 
 tautologo'us terms in announcing the subject of a prize 
 essay. And yet I do not see how the term limits can 
 mean anything that is not implied in the term object. 
 When you have defined the object of literary criticism 
 you have traced its limit; in other words, you have 
 shown what does and does not belong to it. If the 
 
 9* 
 
202 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 framer of the question meant anything else, he certainly 
 ought to have expressed himself more clearly. 
 
 'I doubt very much whether any books will be 
 found to throw any light on the obscurity of the ques- 
 tion, and I believe that Mr. C will have to make 
 
 up his mind for himself on the sense which he attaches 
 to it, and upon this to ground the plan of his essay, and 
 that his reading will be chiefly useful in the filUng up 
 of this outline. And for this purpose there is hardly 
 any book relating to literature that might not be found 
 useful. Examples of literary criticism — such as, among 
 the elders, Johnson and Addison, among the moderns 
 Matthew Arnold and Sainte-Beuve — might be not less 
 suggestive than theories of criticism from Pope, and 
 Boileau, and Lord Kames, to Dallas, who has this spe- 
 cial recommendation, that I strongly suspect it was his 
 work that suggested the subject of the essay, and that 
 
 Mr. C would not be making a veiy rash' venture 
 
 if he acted on this supposition. A general view of 
 modern European literature, such as Hallam's, might 
 also furnish useful matter and hints ' 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 9 A'w., 1868. 
 
 ' .... If you long to see the end of the election 
 scuffles, how thankful ought I to be that I not only 
 have nothing to do with them, but am bound not to 
 interfere with them — which, of course, need not and 
 does not prevent me from feeling a deep interest in the 
 result. But the election itself, though a necessary evil, 
 tends, I believe, always more or less to demoralize all 
 who are concerned in it. If you are conscious of an 
 unwholesome influence, how must it be with others ! 
 How happy it is, for instance, for Mr. that he 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 203 
 
 should be disabled from taking an active part in the 
 strife, and should be so much better employed upon 
 that fiction, -which I hope some day to read with as 
 much pleasure as the old ones. I quite forgive him his 
 unfavorable judgment on myself, and almost envy the 
 one-sidedness which permits him to believe that there 
 can be only one rational view of the Irish Church 
 question. But I could have wished that he had been a 
 little more careful in his choice of language, and ha'd 
 not expressed himself as if absence from a division was 
 the same thing as voting with the majority. A bishop, 
 I think, may be excused if he is not ambitious of being 
 more liberal than Stanley, the " Liberal of the Liberals," 
 who, nevertheless, at the meeting in St. James's Hall, 
 " urged," " as a Liberal," " that the union of Church 
 and State ought to be maintained, as far as possible, in 
 Ireland." How far that is, is a very grave question, on 
 
 which I suspect Mr. has not spent much thought. 
 
 But surely no one need be ashamed of taking the same 
 view of it which was taken by all the most eminent 
 Liberal statesmen from the Union to the present year, 
 and has now only been abandoned by some now living 
 on a questionable assumption of its having become 
 impracticable. Under these circumstances, it appeared 
 to me that to go to the House of Lords only for the 
 purpose of saying that I could not vote with either 
 party, having a theory of my own which separated me 
 from both, would have been foolish and impertinent. 
 
 ' I must close hastily with some miscellaneous notes, 
 as I have to leave home this afternoon for an official 
 engagement in Pembrokeshire. 
 
 ' Pray do not let the prospect of my translation to 
 Lambeth disturb your tranquillity. I- cannot tell you 
 
204 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 how perfectly safe you are I send the " Contem- 
 porary Review " by this post. Pray let me know that it 
 has reached you safely. 
 
 ' I am afraid that Alford is too sanguine in his ex- 
 pectations, both as to the terms on which the separation 
 which he evidently desires will be effected, and as to the 
 results.' ^ 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 19 Nm., 1868. 
 ' I am not in the least hurry for the " Contemporary." 
 I also rejoice in the appointment of the Bishop of 
 London, and likewise in that of his successor (Lincoln) ^ 
 who has always voted and spoken on the right side, 
 and was an object of special complaint from the Bishop 
 of Capetown. I cannot profess to be equally well 
 pleased with the elevation of Wordsworth in his room, 
 having a strong antipathy to many of W.'s views. But as 
 far as learning, talents, and character are concerned, he 
 must be admitted to be eminently entitled to a seat on 
 the bench. I must therefore let Disraeli have that 
 which a proverbial precept forbids us to withhold from 
 a much more disreputable character, and say that his 
 ecclesiastical appointments have been excellent, and raise 
 my opinion of his judgment. I see that they have not 
 pleased his party, which is a strong proof of their good- 
 ness. But I should not wonder if in makins them he 
 was looking forward to a time when he might declare 
 himself the leader of a Liberal-Conservative party, with 
 a strong emphasis on the first half of the compound, 
 making the second hardly audible. 
 
 1 JVk! Church of the Future. Henry Alford. 
 
 * In 1868, the Bishop of London, Dr. Tait, was appointed to succeed 
 Dr. Sumner at Canterbury, aiid the Bishop of Lincoln was translated to 
 London. 
 
LETTEES TO A FRIEND. 205 
 ' You do not exactly touch the point as to Mr. . 
 
 I did not, and do not, complain of any opinion he had 
 expressed about me, but of a misstatement of a plain 
 matter of fact. To say that I made one of a "mob of 
 bishops," on an occasion when I was, as everybody 
 knows, physically, and, as every one of them, mentally, 
 separate from them, is a misrepresentation, for which 
 no bodily infirmity, unless accompanied by weakness or 
 disorder of mind, is a sufficient excuse. He might 
 have said that in his opinion I was bound not to keep 
 aloof from but to confront the " mob of bishops." I 
 could then only have claimed the right of judging for 
 myself on such a point. The " Spectator " had in a 
 manner expressly summoned me to the debate, and 
 declared itself " disappointed " at my absence ; but it 
 had too mirch regard to truth and common sense to 
 speak of that as if it made me one of the majority. 
 I should be very sorry if I did not expect to have 
 an opportunity of explaining my views of the ques- 
 tion, not simply as , I have already done, privately 
 to " the mob," but with the fullest publicity. But I 
 am glad that I have reserved myself for a future oc- 
 casion. 
 
 ' The most remarkable event of the elections, so far, 
 is Mill's loss of his seat. Only to think that nothing 
 could have shaken it if he only would have kept quiet, 
 and not gone out o^his way to give offence to his friends ! 
 And jet they were all noble and generous errors, such 
 as no cold-blooded or not scrupulously conscientious 
 and self-sacrificing man could have committed. People 
 who only knew him by his literary character supposed 
 him to be a man of cool temperament. He is evidently, 
 like Gladstone — in whom for a time it was as little 
 
206 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 suspected — a man of vehemently passionate suscepti- 
 bility. The snow covers a volcano ' ^ 
 
 ' Abbrgwili Palace, 4 Dec, 1868. 
 
 ' .... I believe that the orthodox explanation of 
 the fact which you so justly deplore is, that there lies 
 at the bottom of every human heart a more or less 
 deep pool of something like petroleum, which is harm- 
 less enough as long as it is left to itself, but if it is 
 heated, either by contact with flame or by any violent 
 shock, overflows in a state of fearful combustion.^ 
 
 ' Another explanation is, that when men have any 
 object in view which for the time appears to them 
 supremely desirable, they are apt to overlook the qual- 
 ity of the means by which it is to be attained. Are you 
 in favor of triennial parliaments ? If so, I suppose 
 Mr. would like them' to be annual. 
 
 ' Now that we have got our new parliament, I can- 
 not say I am very much delighted with the result of the 
 great struggle. Some of the ablest of the last have 
 been ejected, and I do not know of a single superior 
 mind that has been brought in to supply their place. 
 It is true that Gladstone has a majority pledged to 
 follow him on one point ; but when they have redeemed 
 that pledge it remains to be seen whether he will be 
 able to hold them together an}' better than he did before. 
 Something, no doubt, is wanting in him which Disraeli 
 
 1 ' I did not approve of Mill's persecution of Eyre any more *than I 
 sympathized with Eyre's apologists ; but I am convinced that Mill was 
 actuated by the purest and noblest motives, without the slightest per- 
 sonal feeling. Mind, I do not say I wish for a House of Commons all 
 Mill, but I think one would always be very useful." 
 
 2 This refers to an allusion to the ill feelings occasioned by a con- 
 tested election. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 207 
 
 possesses in perfection ; but I am not sure that, if they 
 were to exchange parts, Disraeli would succeed better 
 with such a following ' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 7 Dec., 1868. 
 
 ' . . . . Considering the poem ^ merely as a literary 
 performance, I do not think it very much amiss. There 
 are good as well as bad lines in it, and its faults are 
 mostly in excess of vigor, which is the right side. But 
 considered as a political pamphlet in verse, however 
 good it might have been in its kind, I should have 
 disliked it, because in my opinion the kind itself is not 
 legitimate, but base and mongrel. It is a political 
 argument ; but the poetry is not argument, nor the 
 argument poetry. The one spoils the other, and the 
 mixture is worthless. 
 
 ' Perhaps, however, it may be too exacting to expect 
 anything in a burlesque poem that could be translated 
 into serious prose. But here the author has contrived 
 to betray most disgraceful ignorance on one certainly 
 not unimportant aspect of the Irish Church question. 
 
 'It is quite evident that he seriously believes that 
 the Irish Roman Catholic priesthood have been giving 
 proof of disinterestedness in refusing all endowment 
 from the State, as if they had not good reason for 
 declining a provision which would at once lessen their 
 income (the average of which, I believe, exceeds that 
 of the Protestant clergy) and weaken their influence. 
 That to gratify their cupidity and ambition they should 
 desire to continue sucking the blood of the poor is 
 the less surprising as they identify themselves with 
 " the Catholic Church." But that a man, not one 
 1 A political poem on the Irish Church, &c. 
 
208 BISHOP THIKLWALL'S 
 
 of themselves or of their sheep, should be found 
 ignorant enough to be duped by their impudent hy- 
 pocrisy, and to hold them up as models of primitive 
 self-denial, &c., is a saddening example of the success 
 of imposture. 
 
 ' Is not Disraeli's fall the most becoming act of his 
 life?i 
 
 ' I vi^as rather glad to see in Gladstone's Lancashire 
 speeches that he at least does not consider me as 
 making one of a " mob of bishops," but quite the 
 reverse. . . ...' 
 
 ' Abbkgwili Palace, 12 Dec., 1868. 
 
 ' . . . . The self-abnegation which the author of the 
 poem attributes to the Irish priesthood is probably the 
 effect of sheer ignorance, for if he had been aware that 
 the Romish clergy, not only in France but in Protestant 
 Prussia, accept State pay along with Protestants and 
 Jews, he could hardly have failed to see that if it was 
 refused by their brethren in Ireland this could not be 
 on any higher principle, but simply on a calculation of 
 interest, which satisfied them that they are better off- as 
 they are, though at the expense of their poor flocks, not 
 to speak of their secret hopes that they may one day 
 become the Established and Endowed Church of Ireland, 
 until which time they will do their utmost to excite dis- 
 affection to the English Government and to agitate for 
 
 repeal But on another point I cannot let him off 
 
 so easily .... his attack on, not the livings, but the 
 
 lives of the Irish clergy Such things cannot 
 
 claim the impunity of a joke. They are either true or 
 
 • He and his Cabinet resigned oflce without waiting for the meeting of 
 Parliament. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 209 
 
 they are falsehoods I believe that a body of men 
 
 more irreproachable in their lives than the Irish clergy 
 of this day never existed. In the Irish debate this was 
 acknowledged even more emphatically by the opponents 
 of the Irish establishment than by its defenders. If 
 
 Mr. had been a member and had ventured to utter 
 
 the like insinuations he would have been put down by 
 the indignant reprobation of both sides of the House. 
 This calumny is also what Talleyrand thought worse 
 than a crime — an egregious blunder. It betrays his 
 inability to understand the question, which does not in 
 the least turn on the character of the Irish clergy as a 
 body, but on their legal position. He raises what your 
 father would call a, false issue 
 
 ' I am glad you enjoy the " Earthly Paradise." ^ I 
 do not know the " Happy Isles." It is true- that before 
 " Jason " Morris was almost — not quite — unknown. 
 I was the more surprised to see, in a review of " Jason," 
 an allusion to, I think, two earlier works, which had 
 been appreciated by a few, but not heard' of by the 
 many, of whom I made onfe. I have- never yet seen 
 them, and do not know their names. " Jason" was, I 
 think, too perfect for a first work. 
 
 ' I am ashamed to say that I have not yet found 
 leisure for Skene. You know it is not exactly light 
 reading. 
 
 'I do not remember the article on the " Atrocious 
 
 Attila ; " but, if it is not too sceptical, I should like to 
 
 be quite sure that there is such a pamphlet, and that it 
 
 1 ' Yes, some of my very pleasantest hours last summer -were spent in 
 Morris's Earthly Paradise. I am a great admirer of all that I have seen 
 of his, which is, however, only this and Jason, and I look forward with 
 the prospect of much enjoyment to the second volume of the Earthly 
 Paradise, which is to come out next year.' 
 
210 BISHOP THIRL WALL'S 
 
 was not invented by the " Saturday " as a vehicle for 
 its own speculations. I sometimes suspect that in like 
 manner it sometimes reviews novels which were never 
 seen outside of its pages, as they are very often incredi- 
 bly absurd, and such as, if published, would fall dead 
 from the press, but yet furnish amusing articles. 
 
 ' I was once interested in vitrified forts, but having 
 some years ago clambered up a high hill near Inverness 
 in quest of one which was described in my guide-book 
 as a remarkably fine specimen, and, though I had two 
 natives to guide me, having been unable to find a single 
 vitrified stone, I must own that my appetite has been 
 rather weakened by want of nourishment. Do you 
 know whether the outside of that beautiful Irish fort 
 near the sea, between Valentia and Bantry Bay", was 
 vitrified ? I remember it had a glazed look. 
 
 ' .... I must now shut up. Yesterday I had to 
 write all the morning until candle-lighting, and then 
 rushed out to breathe a little fresh air, but in about ten 
 minutes was driven in by pelting rain. To-day is too 
 fine to be so lost.' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 26 Dec., 1868. 
 
 ' I returned from town on the 18th. It would have 
 been unseemly in a Ritual Commission, even if they 
 were not flesh and blood, to have taken no notice of 
 Christmas. We do not resume our sittings until the 
 27th January 
 
 ' I remember that article in the " Saturday " on 
 " Skipping," but read it skippingly. Of course when 
 I read the " Times " I do not go through all the adver- 
 tisements, or even all the correspondence ; but when I 
 sit down ito a "book I feel the same kind of scruple which 
 
LETTERS TO A ERIEND. 211 
 
 you describe, and very seldom omit a single word unless 
 I am forced to give it up before I come to tbe end, 
 which has happened to me with a few works, of fiction ; 
 but if I had not curiosity enough to carry me through 
 the whole I should certainly not have courage and 
 patience for writing an abstract of it. 
 
 ' By-the-bye, have you seen the continuation of King- 
 lake's " Crimean War " ? The two new volumes are 
 painfully interesting. It is almost heartbreaking to 
 think of the opportunities we lost, and how, having 
 thrown them away, we were only saved from destruction 
 by the still greater incapacity of the enemy. But only 
 to think that four thick volumes have brought us 
 no farther than the Charges of Balaclava! I hardly 
 venture to hope that I shall live to read the whole 
 story. 
 
 ' I will take note of the locality of Mr. Meredyth 
 Thomas's studio, and when I am in town again will 
 endeavor to call there ; but I can never reckon on any 
 day or hour as at my own disposal. 
 
 - 1 am here in the enjoyment of quasi-patriarchal 
 felicity, surrounded by John and his wife and their nine 
 children. 
 
 ' With every kind of good wish proper or improper 
 to the season ' 
 
212 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 1869. 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 5 Jan., 1869. 
 
 ' I BELIEVE that many readers have been offended by 
 Kinglake's attack on Louis Napoleon, though I believe 
 it only expresses the opinion of the majority of educated 
 Frenchmen. It belonged to his subject to show the 
 origin of the Alliance in the interest of the coup d^Stat ; 
 but, having done so, he does not recur to the subject 
 except to point out the calamitous results of the Alliance 
 to us : and I do think that he makes it very clear that, 
 vfithout the French, we should have gained the battle 
 of the Alma, and even more clear that, having gained 
 it, we should at once have taken Sebastopol, and so 
 have saved more than can be easily counted in treasure, 
 lives, and credit.' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 22 Jan., 1869. 
 ' Pray never again attempt to say a word in favor of 
 Chaos. Here have I been spending fully as much time 
 as I can spare for answering your letter in hunting for 
 it, knowing all the while that it was within arm's reach, 
 but Chaos refusing to give it up until I had abandoned 
 the search in despair and sat down to write, when, as if 
 tired of teasing me, it peeped out from under a slight 
 cover. I cannot conceive whereabouts is all the beauti- 
 ful scenery you have described. It seems from the name 
 
LETTERS TO A ERIEND. 213 
 
 to be somewhere between Swansea and Port Talbot. 
 But I am puzzled by< the name itself. It, no doubt, as 
 all Welsh names of places, exactly describes the posi- 
 tion 
 
 'I love that companionable goldfinch. I hope he 
 has strengthened your abhorrence of the infamous per- 
 secution of his sweet race which is now going on with 
 redoubled fury under the basest pretexts and from the 
 vilest motives by land and sea, and which threatens 
 some branches of the family with extermination. The 
 systematic destruction of the " small birds " under the 
 pretence of their doing injury to agriculture, to which 
 they were really rendering most valuable service, was 
 bad enough. (One longs for a world in which colossal 
 robins, armed with bow and arrow, shall shoot the mur- 
 derous farmers.) feut the massacre of myriads of sea- 
 fowl, involving the starvation of many more myriads of 
 their bereaved young, all for the sake of a little additional 
 ornament for ladies' bonnets, fills me with grief and 
 indignation. I conjure you never to wear a single 
 feather that has been so obtained, and to use all your 
 influence to dissuade your friends from doing so. Think 
 of Miss Clark's swallow. 
 
 - 1 was not aware that the boulders transported by 
 icebergs or glaciers exhibited marks of the ice which 
 carried them. I thought the action of the ice was only 
 visible on the sides of the rocks by which the glacier 
 passed. But this reminds me of a truly dreadful fact 
 which only became known to me yesterday as I was 
 cutting open the " Athenaeum " of November last. Were 
 you aware that the Breton farmers are actively engaged 
 in removing all the Druidical remains for some " useful " 
 purpose, so that, if nobody interferes, they will before 
 
214 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 long have entirely disappeared ? Ought yoii not to write 
 to M. Henri Martin to inquire whether anything is being 
 done to stop the ravages of this atrocious Vandalism, 
 which is even worse than that of the Bande Noire, because 
 that had the plea of waging war on the relics of the 
 feudal systejn, and, though the result was deplorable, 
 the motive might have been patriotic? But there is 
 no such excuse for the barbarous demolishment o^ the 
 Celtic monuments. Yet I suppose the destroyers think 
 themselves more enlightened than their forefathers, who 
 neglected to avail themselves of such a quarry already 
 worked for them when they had nothing to do but to 
 cart the stones away. 
 
 ' The Brazilian victory over Paraguay having hitherto 
 been only reported by Brazilian bulletins is thought 
 likely to have been — not indeed invented — but exag- 
 gerated. I think that however complete it may have 
 been, you need not despair of the fortunes of Paraguay. 
 There is a wonderful vitality in those South American 
 States nourished by inexhaustible resources, and not to 
 be quenched either by hostile force or by the worst mis- 
 government. I am very much afraid that Greece is a 
 puppet, behind which Russia is pulling the strings. 
 The Great Bear has now one forepaw on the shore of 
 the North Sea, and the other on the threshold of India, 
 where I have no doubt we shall in a few years have to 
 meet him in the field. I am not deeply concerned in 
 the pitch revolution, arid yet I was always offended by 
 musical screaming, as in my playgoing days I was with 
 that of almost all the popular tragic actresses who fol- 
 lowed Mrs. Siddons. She never offended the ear even 
 in her most impassioned scenes. It was no doubt an 
 advantage which she owed to her being born at Brecon, 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 215 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Perowne are here on their way to Lam- 
 peter. I have seen the proof of his first Hulsean Lec- 
 ture. You will find the course very interesting, as its 
 
 subject is the Future Life. I believe that Mr. S was 
 
 quite correct in his remark on your sadness But 
 
 I have no doubt the tendency to melancholy is the 
 penalty you pay for the peculiar fineness of your organi- 
 zation But there is the comfort, that to the same 
 
 cause you are indebted for your most exquisite enjoy- 
 ments, and all around you for the delight you impart to 
 them.' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Steeet, 30 Jan., 1869. 
 
 ' Ever since my arrival in Babylon each day has 
 been entirely occupied with attendance at the Ritual 
 Commission and a Lectionary Committee appointed by 
 it; and even if the business of these conferences was 
 not tabooed, it would have afforded no materials ca- 
 pable of yielding the smallest entertainment to you. 
 
 'On my journey I had a delightful companion in 
 Lanfrey, who has just brought out a third volume. I 
 found it the most interesting of the three. Among 
 other things he fixes hfs hero with the undivided 
 responsibility of the murder of the Due d'Enghien, and 
 proves it to have been a perfectly cool-blooded assassi- 
 nation calculated for a political object, with the fullest 
 knowledge of the innocence of his victim. 
 
 ' On Thursday I dined at the Deanery, "West- 
 minster, and happening to ask Lady Augusta whether 
 she had read Lanfrey, found that she entirely agreed 
 and sympathized with me on the subject from her own 
 domestic experience. She told me that her father was 
 detained by Bonaparte — in flagrant breach of the law 
 of nations — when returning from the embassy of Con- 
 
216 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 stantinople, in revenge for something which he was 
 supposed to have said there.i We agreed with one 
 another that the most violent invectives applied to 
 Bonaparte in England, at the moment of the greatest 
 exasperation against iim, did not approach the truth, 
 because, before recent disclosures, though he was 
 considered as a hard, unscrupulous tyrant, nobody 
 suspected the depths of baseness to which he had 
 descended ' 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 13 Feb., 1869. 
 'Your little bark came into port at the time you 
 had calculated, but found me completely occupied with 
 clearing out for my home voyage, which I accomplished 
 yesterday ; and as usual after every return I am a good 
 deal pressed and hurried, but as I shall be more and 
 more so until the end of my ordination business, I 
 think it best to scrawl a little now. I am very deeply 
 sensible of the kindness which breathes through all 
 you say about me, and which I hope I return with 
 something at least better than I can express. No 
 doubt I believe that a future state of being involves 
 personal consciousness and capacity of recognition, and 
 would otherwise be a mere empty name. But the 
 longer I live the more I am surprised at the birthday 
 congratulations which I receive from my friends. I 
 can quite understand their propriety during the morn- 
 
 1 Lord Elgin was two years confined in the Chateau of Lourdes near 
 Pau ; for Napoleon believed that he had sent to Lord Nelson the in- 
 formation which enabled hira to follow the French fleet and destroy it 
 at Aboukir. Lord Elgin was arrested in Paris, though, as an ambas- 
 sador who was only passing through, his pci-son should have been held 
 sacred. He was hastily carried on to Lourdes under a guai-d of geus- 
 d'armes. His family were for a long time ignorant of his detention, 
 and not even aware whether he was alive or dead. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 217 
 
 ing of life, when eacli successive stage is one of in- 
 creased vigor and enjoyment. But to be congratulated 
 on having advanced a step nearer to the grave, on 
 having a year less to live — what is the meaning of 
 that? And when the congratulation is accompanied 
 by wishes that I may live to the age of Tithonus or of 
 Methuselah, but exempt from decrepitude and infirmity, 
 and that the course of nature may be changed in my 
 favor, though I know the kindness from which these 
 wishes proceed, they unavoidably sound to me like 
 mockery. I do not believe that any old man ever con- 
 gratulated himself on his birthday unless he was eager 
 for the end of his life ; I am sure I never did. Why, 
 then, should my friends do so for me ? . . . . 
 
 ' I never heard Wallace's " Night Winds,"' but I so 
 delight in the real howl of the blast that I am sure I 
 should enjoy any good musical imitation. 
 
 ' You do not seem to appreciate the blandness of 
 this incomparable winter. Are you aware that at 
 Rome they have had the coldest within memory of 
 man ? Archdeacon Clark writes : " The water-pipes 
 are bursting ; the fountains are all frozen ; Triton, in 
 the Piazza Barberinj, sits on a little mountain of ice; 
 the fountains in the Piazza of St. Peter's throw up 
 their showers of spray, but it freezes as it falls. I sit 
 at home with a great-coat, and wear two when I go 
 out, and do not feel warm," &c. Is not that a great 
 comfort ? 
 
 ' . . . . What do I think of the Irish bishops ? 
 Man}"- things, but not to be said at- the fag-end of a 
 letter, and you have not explained the point of your 
 
 question ' 
 
 10 
 
218 BISHOP THIRL WALL'S 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 20 Feb., 1869. 
 
 ' .... I did not at all wish to restrain the good 
 wishes of my friends, though the likelihood of their 
 accomplishment mi^st depend, not on what others have 
 been, but on what I am, which nobody knows so well 
 as myself. I only observed that no wishes for the 
 future can alter the character of the melancholy fact 
 which is the occasion of the birthday congratulations I 
 receive.' 
 
 ' Abergwili Palace, 1 April, 1869. 
 
 ' Your last afforded me more than usual pleasure, 
 because, in addition to that which I enjoy from all 
 your letters, there was the gratification of a curiosity 
 which had begun to be quite restless. Nobody in the 
 county knew, or could guess, where you were. The 
 
 , who were with me for a day or two last week, 
 
 were quite at sea. All kinds of rumors were afloat 
 about your having been spirited away, on your journey 
 
 homeward, some believed to ; but that you had 
 
 returned home appears to have entered no human 
 mind. Confess that you were pour quelque chose in this 
 general bewilderment, and that by some innocent strata- 
 gem you contrived to put your friends on a false scent, 
 and so to escape morning calls, while you lay perdue, 
 despatching the arrears of your correspondence. 
 
 ' I begin to be rather thankful to your troublesome 
 tooth for having been the occasion of such a pleasant 
 visit to London, in which you saw so many interesting 
 things and persons. On that Thursday I tried, but in 
 vain, to make you out through the glass of your cage. 
 Did you notice an old gentleman who sat immediately 
 below me? On his right was Lord Houghton, who 
 
LETTERS TO A FEIEND. 219 
 
 told me that " the arch-rebel " was in the house. I did 
 not at first understand that he meant Jefferson Davis, 
 but when he explained himself I asked whether he knew 
 the arch-rebel by sight, on which he put on an air of 
 pious horror, as if the very sight of such a person would 
 soil the purity of his Northern principles. On this I 
 asked, " Is Reverdy Johnson here ? " " Yes, here he 
 is," said he, pointing to the old gentleman below me, 
 who straightway rose and turned round, and, on my 
 apologizing for my indiscretion, shook me benignly by 
 the hand 
 
 ' The " Ring and the Book " is in four volumes, and 
 every here and there is really difficult reading. That 
 is why I said read it if you can. I am sometimes forced 
 to read a passage three or four times before I am sure 
 that I understand it. That is, no doubt, a fault, though 
 I think it arises mainly from an exaggeration of a merit. 
 It carries the Chinese-like condensation of English style 
 a little too far. There is an increase of vigor as in 
 the clenching of a fist, but it costs time and pains to 
 open it. 
 
 ' It is not, however, necessary for the enjoyment of 
 the 'story to stop at these knotty points, but if it was 
 there would be ample compensation for the exertion in 
 the amazing ingenuity of the invention and beauty of 
 the execution, though a little marred by occasional 
 ftegligences, which such a poet can well afford, as they 
 rather produce the effect of conscious power 
 
 ' I return the three letters, each entertaining in its 
 kind, but especially that of the youngest correspondent, 
 who, I am afraid, will not like being " made a Chris- 
 tian." But have not all of us, who are Christians, been 
 made so in spite of ourselves ? Addio, Carissima ' 
 
220 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ' 1 Kegbnt Steebt, 28 April, 1869. 
 
 'Your sweet letter ^ comes every way redolent of 
 spring. The only glimpse of nature I get during this 
 brilliant weather is in crossing the park on my way to- 
 Westminster, when I mark the progress of the foliage 
 rather with jealousy than with pure delight, thinking 
 how much I should enjoy the sight of my own trees, 
 which, at this most interesting season, are entirely lost 
 to me for this year. 
 
 ' This week town offers, not consolation, but a little 
 diversion from this saddening thought in exhibitions of 
 art. You have, no doubt, seen that the National Gallery 
 has taken undivided possession of the building which it 
 shared with the Royal Academy, and that the opening 
 has been marked by the appearance of a newly-acquired 
 unfinished " Entombment," attributed to Michael An- 
 gelo. I have only had one view of it. Nobody can 
 doubt its being the work of a very great master, but 
 how it is that the connoisseurs have been able to assign 
 it, as they do without a doubt, to Michael Angelo, I 
 do not pretend to know. The almost architectural 
 (pyramidal) symmetry of the grouping strikes the most 
 unlearned eye, but I do not know how far that is char- 
 acteristic of Michael Angelo. The body in the centre 
 is half raised, partly supported by Joseph of Arima- 
 thea, who stands behind, and partly by two persons, 
 one on each side, holding the extremities of the band 
 which passes round the body. This white band on 
 the dead-white flesh seems to be considered as a great 
 achievement of coloring. The group is complemented 
 by a sitting figure at each corner, one of which, un- 
 
 ^ Enclosing violets. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 221 
 
 fortunately, is in a merely rudimentary state. One 
 of the side supporters, who is clad in scarlet — the 
 effect of which, close to the body, you may easily con- 
 ceive — holds his head back, while he gazes on the dead 
 Christ with an expression of interest which words must 
 fail to describe, but in which I cannot say that I rec- 
 ognized the hand of Michael Angelo, though I do not 
 presume to doubt that it might have been his work. 
 Some friendly genius has inspired the Council of the 
 Royal Academy with the thought of sending me a card 
 for the dinner next Saturday, a favor which I had not 
 expected ever to receive again, and which is doubly 
 precious at the inauguration of the new building. I 
 hope that Disraeli will not be prevented by gout from 
 being present. 
 
 ' I have not read Phillips' " Musical Recollections," 
 and I should hardly think that I could enjoy it much in 
 my utter ignorance of music. I am not quite sure 
 whether I had met with Max Miiller's interpretation of 
 the myth of Apollo and Daphne. But I believe that 
 any one who knows his system might easily have an- 
 ticipated it, as a simple application of his principles. 
 The want of time for reading is the great misery of 
 London life, greater on the whole than the banishment 
 from the country ; and the misery is increased by the 
 constant influx of new works. I had begun Lecky's 
 new book on the " History of European Morals " (two 
 solid octavos) when Lord Houghton asks me whether I 
 have read " Kitty," and tells me it is the best novel 
 he ever read. How, after that, can I help getting and 
 trying to read " Kitty " ? ^ 
 
 'But while I am taking little sips of this lighter 
 
 1 By Miss Betham-Edwards, author of Dr. Jacob. 
 
222 , BISHUJr- IHIKLWALL'S 
 
 reading at chance intervals, there comes in Victor Hugo 
 with " L'Homme qui rit," in four volumes octavo. Of 
 this, for the present, I have only read the preface, from 
 which I learn that the subject is the English aristocracy, 
 and that it is to be followed by two others, the first on 
 the (French) monarchy, and the second to be entitled 
 " Quatre-vingt-treize." . . . .' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, 4 May, 1869. 
 
 ' .... I had some talk last night with Mr. Boxall 
 about his Michael Angelo. The identification, he ad- 
 mits, is purely inferential. But he thinks the dead 
 Christ shows the hand of a painter who was also a sculp- 
 tor, and that all the other internal evidence points to 
 the youth of Michael Angelo, who, as he believes, pur- 
 posely left it unfinished, being dissatisfied with it. Since 
 my last I took another and longer view of it, and found 
 it gain upon me by the second inspection. The head of 
 the dead Christ is of incomparable beauty, but whether 
 of the Michael Angelic type seems to me still doubtful. 
 
 ' It is curious that one of the most prominent figures 
 appears to stand on one foot, and Mr. Boxall could not 
 tell me where the other was supposed to rest ' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Streft, 12 May, 1869. 
 ' .... I was one of an immense crowd assembled 
 by the Duchess of Argyll at the India Office. It was 
 g, very splendid scene. The centre of the quadrangle, 
 where the ball was given to the Sultan last year, was 
 occupied by some regimental band. The company cir- 
 culated in the surrounding galleries. It was the only 
 gathering of the kind where something was to be seen 
 beside people's faces. On the second floor is the 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 223 
 
 museum, composed of all the treasures of Indian prod- 
 ucts and industry formerly lodged at the Indi-a House, 
 Leadenhall Street, and increased by many later addi- 
 tions. One curiosity I remember to have seen very 
 long ago — a figure, of the size of life, of a tiger with a 
 man under him. When you turn a handle the tiger's paw 
 strikes the man, who utters a moan. This was a toy 
 of Tippoo Sahib's, and represented an Englishman in 
 the position in which he would have liked to see eveiy 
 one of the race. 
 
 ' The scene was animated by the presence of several 
 Indian potentates — Nawabs or something — moving 
 about in gorgeous oriental costume. (Also by a dear 
 little cat, who glided through the throng with perfect 
 composure, though not an Indian, or even a Persian, 
 but a simple English tabby.) Among the known faces I 
 saw Henry de Bunsen with his wife and daughters, and 
 Ernest de Bunsen with the beautiful Hilda (of whom 
 there is a good portrait at the Royal Academy) 
 
 ' Conceive the dissipation in which I am living. I 
 had come from a concert given by the boys at my old 
 school, the Charterhouse, where I was reminded of you 
 by hearing an English translation of " Aderyn pur " sung 
 by a very sweet voice with unbounded applause. 
 
 ' To-night I am to combine two operations much 
 less easy to reconcile, having first to dine at Merchant 
 Taylors' Hall in my robes, and then to attend the 
 concert at Buckingham Palace, which always involves 
 a very late departure. But that, I hope, will end the 
 debaucheries of my " season." .... 
 
 ' You will be glad to see in this day's " Times " two 
 letters from evidently well-informed Americans, correct- 
 ing the impression which had been made by Sumner's 
 
224 BISHUF TUIKLwALl'S 
 
 speech, as well as by some alarming utterances of Gold- 
 win Smith. There is certainly no logical connection 
 whatever between the Irish agrarian outrages and the 
 Irish Church Bill ; but it is no less clear that the 
 Opposition looks upon the outrages as a godsend, and 
 hopes that the Land question will prove a rock on which 
 the Ministry will split. 
 
 ' How droll it is that you should evoke my musical 
 recollections. I do, however, remember hearing Cata- 
 lani, but it was, I believe, in the period when her voice, 
 if it retained its power, had begun to lose its more 
 valuable qualities. I remember even the name of an 
 opera in which I heard her sing. It was Una partita 
 di caecia sotto Enrico Quarto. Malibran I must have 
 heard much later and oftener ; yet I have not a distinct 
 recollection of the fact. Miss Stephens I remember very 
 well, both on and off the stage. I used to see a great 
 deal of her after she became Lady Essex, and even after 
 she had lost her husband. You know Sydney Smith 
 used to complain of the difficulty people had, when she 
 entered a room, to refrain from clapping. 
 
 ' I also recollect Paganini, first at Rome, and after- 
 wards in the Haymarket, where he performed his tours 
 de force all the evening on one string. Dragonetti I 
 believe did not appear much, except in an orchestra. 
 Bochsa collected bands of lady harpists to play in con- 
 cert. But I do not think I can ever have seen 
 Pisaroni's face, as it has left no trace in my memory. 
 The singers whom I remember with the greatest 
 pleasure are Pasta, Rubini, and Lablache, though no 
 doubt that which I received from the last was not 
 purely musical, but in part due to his extraordinary 
 physique ' 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 225 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, 13 May, 1869. 
 ' P.S. — Latest musical recollections. Previous per- 
 sonal adventures. I got away from the dinner — where 
 I sat between Lord Fortescue and Sir Watkin — in 
 excellent time, following the example of the Archbishop 
 of Canterbury, who, after I had talked a little nonsense, 
 retired avowedly because he had to go to the concert. 
 But conceive the misery. I had ordered my carriage — 
 to be quite sure of taking advantage of such an oppor- 
 tunity — at a quarter-past nine. But my servant, per- 
 ceiving that dinner was not over before half-past eight, 
 and knowing that it was to be followed by much 
 speechifying and singing, concluded that I could not 
 get away before ten, and ordered the carriage at that 
 hour ! I had therefore to pace up and down for about 
 twenty minutes, when he appeared, but without the 
 carriage ; and I had to take a cab, in which we met it 
 about half-way, and then, having stopped to doff my 
 robes, proceeded to the Palace. But there I had the 
 agreeable surprise to find that the Prince of Wales had 
 had the goodness to keep the company waiting for me 
 (and for himself) about half an hour, so that the first 
 overture had only just begun when I arrived. Likewise 
 the Bishop of Oxford, though not expecting me, had 
 kept an excellent place for me, commanding a perfect 
 view of the whole scene. The Princess of Wales was 
 looking in excellent health, and more lovely than ever. 
 .... There was a brilliant display of oriental cos- 
 tumes. One rajah wore a tunic reaching to the ground, 
 of exactly the colors and spangles of ■ harlequin. But 
 the most astonishing thing I ever saw in such an 
 assembly was a very large tall man of the color of 
 cinder. It was something quite unearthly, and gave 
 
 10* 
 
226 js'jLSHOr J. niiiij vv ajjl. o 
 
 one a lively or deadly idea of an Afreet. The Bishop 
 of Oxford said he must be the representative of some 
 infernal power. 
 
 'Now for the music. It was an unusually good 
 selection, but it is much to be lamented that they do 
 not print books of the words. There were four lady 
 solo singers, all of different races — a Swede, a Hun- 
 garian, and a Welshwoman (Miss Edith Wynne). The 
 country of the fourth I could only guess, as she rejoiced 
 in the unaccountable name of Mademoiselle Valesca de 
 Facino. As she was a brunette of a very deep hue, I 
 could only guess that she may be a Spaniard. Miss E. 
 Wynne sang the " Bells of Aberdovey," accompanied by 
 the Pencerdd (profanely styled Mr. John Thomas) on 
 the harp obbligato. We had also Swedish airs by 
 Mdlle. Nilsson, and airs Hongrois by Mdlle. lima de 
 Murska. They were very pretty, especially the Swedish, 
 but somehow only the Welsh gave me the idea of a 
 really national air. 
 
 ' Through the delay which took place in my interest, 
 though there was no break, the concert was not over 
 until half -past twelve.' 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 22 May, 1869. 
 ' Your precaution was superfluous. Notwithstanding 
 your incredulity, I returned here on Wednesday, But 
 you did not know that I was engaged to admit three 
 candidates, whose services were urgently needed, to a 
 special ordination. This prevented me from accepting 
 an invitation to dine in Trinity College Hall on Tues- 
 day, -which is there the great feast day of the year. But 
 I enjoyed my short visit to Cambridge very much 
 indeed, and was never before, since I went up as a fresh- 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 227 
 
 man, so well pleased with the place. I was royally- 
 entertained at Trinity Lodge, and on Monday I went 
 over all the new buildings at St. John's. The chapel is 
 quite a gem — as it well may be, having cost 70,00OZ. 
 I heard doubts expressed — but every Johnian would 
 attribute them to envy — whether the college, being a 
 trustee, was quite justified in spending so large a sum 
 on " a toy." I think I should have preferred laying it 
 out to get rid of the buildings with which the college 
 was disfigured by Rickman, and which now contrast 
 harshly with both the old, venerable, and really beauti- 
 ful brickwork and with the latest of Scott. 
 
 ' After this I performed one of the greatest pedestrian 
 feats on record. I set out at eleven to perambulate the 
 backs of the colleges, and make the circuit of Petty 
 Cury and Sydney Street, and so back to the point from 
 which I started. I executed this round, which at a 
 gentle ordinary' pace might have taken half an hoxir, in 
 three hours. I. flatter myself that it was the longest 
 time in which the distance was ever done ; for, with the 
 exception of some five minutes, I was all the time in as 
 constant motion as the hour-hand of a clock, and felt 
 very much tired and footsore at the end. But after a 
 little rest I sallied forth again to complete my survey of 
 the colleges ' 
 
 ' Abergwili Palace, 28 May, 1869. 
 ' I have sent you the most palpable fruit of my visit 
 to Cambridge, in my Whit-Sunday sermon, which will 
 be very proper reading for you on Sunday, to fill up any 
 vacant halT-hour. It is, as you will see, not wholly 
 unconnected with the subject of Huxley's article.^ I do 
 1 On the Physical Basis ofZnfe, 1 Feb., 1869. 
 
228 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 not know whether I told you that, in order to read it 
 again, I sent for the number of the " Fortnightly." 
 But I could not find leisure for the reading in London, 
 and, perhaps, never should if you had not repeated your 
 question, which forced me to take it up, and read it 
 more attentively than I had the first time. 
 
 ' I found that I had something to retract, and that 
 I must have spoken of it upon the impression made by 
 the first part, without taking suflBcient account of that 
 which appears to be said in an opposite sense in the 
 latter part. As he himself expressly repudiates the 
 "materialistic philosophy," it would be foolish and 
 unjust to charge him with that which he reprobates as 
 strongly as if he had been in the pulpit. Nor do I say 
 that it is his fault if the article is not quite satisfactory, 
 and leaves one in a little doubt ab(kit his dernier mot. 
 But it does seem to me rather like a couplet which 
 does not rhyme. He admits that he has begun by 
 landing in a " crass materialism." And the way in 
 which he extricates himself and the reader from this 
 slough seems to be by showing that after all it is only 
 a question of terminology, and that the materialistic has 
 the advantage of being the most convenient. This may 
 be quite true, but I do not find that it neutralizes the 
 effect of the preceding deduction. 
 
 ' His criticism on the Archbishop of York seems to 
 me quite just; but I am not sure what range of sub- 
 jects he would include in his description of "lunar 
 politics." .... 
 
 ' What can you have heard about the state of ? 
 
 I do not know anything lamentable in it, except that 
 people cannot quite agree about what is best for it. But 
 might you not say the same thing about the state of the 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 229 
 
 nation, as long as there are political parties, to whom 
 the one's meat is the other's poison ? And yet does any 
 one really lament that we are not all of one mind, and 
 that variance of opinion is the condition of progress? 
 Take comfort.' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, 8 June, 1869. 
 
 ' .... I quite agree with Professor Blackie that 
 the English way of reading Greek differs very widely 
 indeed from the original pronunciation ; but that it is 
 much more faithfully represented by his own, or any 
 other, I am not so sure. The mode in which accent 
 was combined with quantity has always been to me a 
 puzzle, though I had the advantage of hearing Greek 
 read at Berlin by the great Professor Boeckh, who was 
 probably the highest authority on the subject. 
 
 ' I am rather jealous of Mrs. P , whose letter I 
 
 return. If I had not seen it I should not have known 
 that you are a Neo-drwidess. But now that I have, 
 through her, learned the fact, I have not the least notion 
 what a Neo-druidess is. Can you tell me without divulg- 
 ing sacred mysteries? .... Pray do not say any more 
 about the publication of my sermons. I have already 
 printed more than I ought on various special occasions. 
 
 ' The town has been alarmed by reports that the 
 House of Lords had gone out of its mind. The accounts 
 this morning are a little reassuring, but its exact con- 
 dition seems still doubtful. We have had a few days 
 of Neapolitan weather, and I have been suffering from 
 heat, but still more from vocrraX'yia, thinking how I 
 should enjoy Abergwili, where I was shivering all the 
 time I spent there last month. %at/)e (^CKraTr] ' 
 
230 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, 21 June, 1869. 
 
 'I am mucli obliged to you for the sight of Mr. 
 Sartoris' letter ; none of the compliments I have re- 
 ceived on my speech have gratified me so much. I must 
 let you into a little of the secret history of the speech.^ 
 In consequence of a cold in the throat I had rested very 
 ill for several nights before, and worst of all on the last, 
 so that having vainly attempted to get a doze in my 
 chair, which, if it had oiily been for a few minutes, 
 would have done me infinite good, I went down to the 
 House with my brains all seething and muddled, and, 
 though I kept myself up by a spasmodic effort, the effect 
 was that I forgot several things which I had intended to 
 say, and which, when they recurred to my mind too late, 
 annoyed me more than you can easily conceive. 
 
 ' This, however, was not the worst misery. Another 
 arose out of my good fortune itself. You will have 
 observed that there were frequent " cheers." These, 
 though highly encouraging, often drowned my voice at 
 the end of a sentence, and thus prevented even the 
 " Times' " reporter from catching it, and thus some 
 things were omitted, and the place of others supplied 
 by mere guess. This has caused serious misunderstand- 
 ing of some points in which accuracy of expression was 
 particularly necessary, and I have thus been induced to 
 have it repAnted in a separate form while the exact 
 words I used were fresh in my memory, and I hope to 
 be able to send you a copy of the real speech before 
 long. 
 
 ' I am only just beginning to recover from the effects 
 of that last debate, during which I sat ten and a half 
 hours without a minute's interruption. But as I walked 
 1 On the Disestatliahment of the Irish Church. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 231 
 
 home between three and four I was rewarded by the 
 exquisite beauty of the morning as it dawned on the 
 sleeping city. It was just such a one as that which was 
 the occasion of Wordsworth's sonnet ending with the 
 line (I think) — 
 
 "And all that mighty heart was lying (?) still." 
 ' Addio, Carissima ' 
 
 'Abbegwih Palace, 9 July, 1869. 
 ' . . . . At the risk of seeming egotistical I must 
 enclose a letter which I received this morning. The 
 writer is a sort of voluntary independent missionary, 
 who labors among the working classes, and has fre- 
 quently asked me to send him my Charges for their 
 benefit, which I could not understand ; and, though I 
 complied with the request, could not help intimating a 
 doubt as to the usefulness, which he seems to allude to at 
 the beginning of his letter.' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, \Z July, 1869. 
 ' . . . . Now I must proceed to satisfy your curiosity. 
 The Saturday before I left town will always live in my 
 memory as the most agreeable day I ever spent in Lon- 
 don. Indeed, I cannot remember any other which I 
 found uniformly pleasant. It began with a breakfast 
 at Lord Houghton's, where I sat by the Due d'Aumale, 
 and had a great deal of pleasant talk with him on a 
 variety of subjects — among them on Lanfrey, about 
 whom, you may easily imagine, we quite agreed. I only 
 got away in time to be taken up by Mrs. Sartoris ^ at 
 
 1 ' 1 July, 1869. It was a great pleasure, to ine to make her acquaint- 
 ance. She is an admirable representative of the genius of her gifted 
 family. Her brother John, the great Anglo-Saxon scholar, was a crony of 
 mine at Cambridge. ' 
 
232 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 one, and our conversation made me almost sorry to 
 arrive at Manchester Square. She set it aflow by the 
 question vrhether I found the delivery oi a speech or a 
 sermon the more exciting. You will know that it must 
 be the speech. A sermon never makes the preacher 
 undergo "agonies " before he mounts the pulpit. But 
 
 this led to all manner of stories about preachers 
 
 She told me that she had once gone to the Hanover 
 Square Rooms to hear le Pere Ravignau ; but when she 
 got there, and found herself invited to enter a box to 
 hear him preach on the same platform where she had 
 so often sung, she could not stand the thought, but 
 went away. 
 
 ' I need not speak of the pictures. The " Rainbow 
 Landscape," the masterpiece of all Rubens' landscapes, 
 is one of its gems. There is also a great Vandervelde, 
 a sea piece, which is Lord Hertford's favorite. It is 
 rich in the Flemish and Spanish schools, and in Sir 
 Joshua's and Gainsborough's. There is hardly anything 
 Italian but Canalettos. I dare say Lord Hertford is 
 hardly able to enjoy the great Italian masters. Before 
 we parted Mrs. Sartoris asked me whether I cared for 
 music, and, on my answer in the affirmative, invited me 
 to her evening party. 
 
 ' So ended Act ii. You would never guess the scene of 
 Act iii., so I must tell you. I deliberately drove to West- 
 minster Bridge, and thence walked along the Thames 
 Embankment, eastward, to the end of the Temple. The 
 day was brilliant, and the heat tempered by a pleasant 
 breeze. I never had a more enjoyable walk, and have 
 no hesitation in saying that, on the whole, I prefer it 
 for picturesque effect to the Quais at Paris. There is 
 nothing on the Seine comparable to the perspective of 
 
, LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 233 
 
 the bridges on the Thames. I then ascended to the 
 Temple, and rambled almost in solitude over my old 
 haunts in its courts and gardens, observing sundry ad- 
 , ditions of new and good architecture, and also glad to 
 see that the Benchers had enclosed the greater part of 
 their garden as a playground for the poor boys of the 
 neighborhood. I then emerged, needing rest, at Temple 
 Bar, and went home in a hansom 
 
 ' The scene changes in Act iv. to Park Place, St. 
 James's Square, where I found rather a large than a 
 very small party. I did not, however, hear Mrs. Sar- 
 toris sing. 
 
 ' The musical performance was confined to an Italian 
 gentleman and a young Englishwoman. He sang Span- 
 ish as well as Italian pieces. The Italian, as I was told, 
 was old music of a master named Lotti, whose name I 
 never heard before. It was all very choice. The cur- 
 tain dropped (for me) between eleven and twelve. 
 
 ' Now I pass to domestic matters, and you must 
 prepare yourself for some melancholy tidings. I have 
 not yet seen the Tycoon,^ and, what is worst, I do not 
 feel at all sure that I ever shall see him. You may 
 remember I had misgivings about his reception, and 
 my fears have been sadly realized. It seems that his 
 Western rival would not tolerate his presence, but put 
 him to flight, and he was seen as an outcast at Clystanog, 
 exposed to all manner of dangers. 
 
 ' The victor took possession of his consort, who, I 
 am ashamed to say, attached herself to him as if she 
 had never seen the Tycoon. Even if it is known where- 
 
 1 A Japanese peacock, given to Bishop Thirlwall by the sister of his 
 correspondent. 
 
234 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 abouts he is, it is doubtful whether he will ever let 
 himself be caught ' 
 
 ' Abebgwili Palace, 27 July, 1869. 
 
 ' .... I return 's letter. I am not at all as- 
 tounded by his professions of republicanism, and if you 
 had happened to read a series of capital articles on the 
 British Constitution in the " Fortnightly," by Mr. Bage- 
 hot, you would not give him credit for much originality 
 in his views of the subject. I must own that I have not 
 a high opinion of his judgment. His mind seems to me 
 one sadly in want of ballast. The peremptoriness of 
 his decisions is in proportion to the onesidedness of his 
 views as far as "power" depends on an absolute "veto;" 
 no doubt the Queen has none. But it is certain that 
 she has very considerable influence, and the preference 
 of monarchy in all European Constitutions seems to 
 show that the usefulness of this influence does not de- 
 pend entirely on our " prejudices and ignorances." His 
 ideal of government is the omnipotence of a single 
 chamber. Yet that form does not seem to have been 
 particularly successful in France : and America not 
 being able to create a House of Lords, nevertheless 
 thought a Senate a useful institution. The House of 
 Lords is not really "irresponsible," having always been 
 subject to the influence of public opinion, and yet it 
 never has been, and as long as it exists never will be 
 a mere "form." Considered as a drag to the car of 
 " progress," it will seem an " absurd anomaly " to those 
 who think that the speed of progress cannot be too 
 great. Others may see more wisdom in the maxim 
 " slow and sure." It is very characteristic of his prone- 
 ness and extremes, that he will allow you no choice but 
 
LETTERS TO A TEIEND. 235 
 
 between " the Divine Right of the House of Lords," 
 or upholding " oligarchy." . . . .' 
 
 '10 Aug., 1869. 
 ' - ... I have only one thing beside to tell you 
 which you will be glad to hear. The Tycoon has re- 
 appeared. ^ I did not see him for a long time after, or 
 suspect that he had found his way back. But it seems 
 that he did so very soon. And the next morning he 
 and his rival had " a regular pitched battle?" since 
 which they have lived peaceably together. I also learn 
 that the old peahen has a peachick, so that in this 
 respect my affairs are flourishing ' 
 
 •23 Aiig., 1869. 
 ' . . . . Lord Houghton also says that some French- 
 man has found out that the rings of Saturn are an 
 optical illusion caused by the melting of the glaciers, 
 and that some engineer has invented a plan for crossing 
 the'Channel, through a cast-iron tube laid at the bottom, 
 the passengers carrying their air along with them, I 
 suppose like ^olus, in bags. Did you miss these good 
 things ? or how came you not to mention them ? I am 
 quite unfit to carry on literary correspondence, having 
 scarcely ever an hour to spare for any but what I may 
 call ex officio reading. You will be amused to hear that 
 notwithstanding, or rather for the sake of the contrast, 
 I have been reading that " Rolling Stone." ^ Is not 
 the creature verging on eighty ? Yet when did she pro- 
 duce anything more perfect in its kind? One would 
 suppose she had passed all her life in the Coulisses. 
 Her players make one believe that they are old acquaint- 
 
 1 Pierre que route. George Sand. . 
 
236 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 ances, and their strangest adventures seem perfectly 
 natural. I have also read the end of D'Houssonville's 
 memorable story, and was much surprised to see nay 
 name in an article of Vacherot's. But I do not ven- 
 ture to attack any book. I hope you are enjoying 
 this magnificent harvest weather in the Garden of 
 England ' 
 
 'Aberowili Palace, 2 Sept., 1869. 
 
 ' . . . . Did you ever study a Bill in Chancery ? 
 If — as is quite possible — you never did, you may not 
 be aware that it is a document in which, in the midst of 
 a wilderness of rigmarole, there is a little oasis called 
 The Charging Part, in which is summed up in a few 
 lines the pith of the whole matter. Possibly also you 
 do not know that the once greatest of all Chancery 
 lawyers, known to the initiated by the name of Jockey 
 Bell, was also the most voracious of novel-readers. 
 When he was asked by a friend how he managed to 
 spare time for so many works of three volumes each, 
 the Jockey replied, "I always make at once for the 
 Charging Part." 
 
 'Now of what is this d-propos? It is d-propos of 
 the letter which I return, in which I have vainly en- 
 deavored to get at the Charging Part, or, in fact, to 
 guess what it drives at. In consequence of my total 
 ignorance of the matters to which it alludes, there are 
 parts which I cannot very clearly make out 
 
 ' I return the photograph, glad to see such a good- 
 looking royal couple. Was it not provoking that the 
 Harvard crew should be so much better-looking fellows 
 ("Illustrated News") than their conquerors? I also 
 return M. de Gaulle's letter. The Welsh seems to me on 
 
LETTERS TO A ERIEND. 237 
 
 the whole very nice, though I fancied there were here 
 and there some very little things which betray the 
 foreigner. 
 
 ' Is not his translation of the territorial de a mis- 
 take? It is as if we should say Ernest of Bunsen, 
 which would be still worse than that which the " Times," 
 not I think unjustly, finds singular — that he should 
 take the style of a French nobleman. 
 
 ' You are quite mistaken about my " influence " 
 being " generally pre-engaged." It never is so, as I 
 make it an invariable rule not to pledge my vote or 
 " interest " to any candidate for a charity until I have 
 seen the polling paper ' 
 
 ' Abergwili Palace, 11 Sept., 1869. 
 
 ' . . . . You know how I have always exhorted you 
 to set about a collection of Welsh legends. I believe 
 you need be in no fear of a lack of appetite or demand 
 for them in the general public 
 
 ' What happened to Jos6 Mendez? This. There was 
 one Lucas — apparently a Briton — who filled the office 
 of wild-beast tamer at the Hippodrome, Paris. Jos6 
 Mendez was his servant ; one day Lucas, to display his 
 command over his subjects, went into a cage in which 
 were several, including a lioness, armed only with a 
 riding-whip. They retreated before him as he waved 
 this in their eyes. But the lioness, who it seems was 
 in another corner, sprang upon him, fastened upon his 
 neck and his arm, and pulled him to the ground. The 
 others, seeing him down, joined in the attack. Josd 
 Mendez, seeing tliis, entered the cage with a pistol, and 
 with its butt end administered a blow on the nose of 
 the lioness, which made her loosen her grip. He then 
 
238 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 took up Lucas with one arm, and brandishing his pistol 
 in the face of the beasts, effected his retreat out of the 
 cage. Lucas had received thirty-three wounds, of which 
 he died the next day. Josd Mendez followed the 
 
 funeral and fainted on the way The article of 
 
 Vacherot is in the " Revue." But you will not find 
 much in it concerning me, beside my name in excellent 
 company. ' i 
 
 ' Abbegwili Palace, 23 Sept., 1869. 
 
 ' I have had Dr. Meyer here since Monday. I be- 
 lieve that on Saturday he proceeds to Llanover. He 
 is more wonderful than ever. It is impossible to touch 
 on any subject on which he does not pour a stream not 
 only of the most recondite and exquisite learning, but 
 of the most original ideas. In the evening he treats 
 us with the choicest Welsh, German, and Spanish songs, 
 accompanying himself on the piano. He is now at 
 work on the Gododin, and is prepared to show that the 
 battle is an astronomical allegory. I wish very much 
 you could meet him He believes in the possi- 
 bility of a Celtic migration reaching to Central America. 
 .... Lady Minto's " Life of Elliot " I only know from 
 an article in the " Revue des deux Mondes," which I 
 believe gives the cream of the story, and speaks very 
 favorably of it. Of the " Lady of Latham " and the 
 " Life of Rossini " I know nothing, and have no time 
 to read anything. The arrears I have to make up 
 almost break down my table. 
 
 'Tau Coronse^ you must remember has not been 
 
 I 'La Science et la Conscience,' '11. Les Historiens.' Eevue des 
 deux Mondes, 1 Juillet, 1869. 
 
 « ' 11 Sept., 1869. What happened to Tau Coronae was this. T. C. 
 had heen a very quiet, ohscure, unobtrusive star, of perhaps the third or 
 
LETTEES TO A FRIEND. 239 
 
 annihilated, only disorganized. I do not know that it 
 has lost any weight, so as to affect its relations to for- 
 eign systems. The only difference is, that the matter 
 which had been concentrated in its satellites, is now dif- 
 fused throughout the space in which they moved. It 
 is a change from oligarchy to a fierce democracy. 
 
 ' Dr. Meyer says that Jupiter, which was once sup- 
 posed to be a globe of water, is now believed to be a 
 ball of fire. He also comforts us with a new theory, 
 which makes the sun to be constantly supplied with 
 fresh heat by the electricity of its own planets, as the 
 sea by the rivers, which are themselves fed by the sea. 
 According to this it may last forever. The great 
 Professor DovS, of Berlin, holds this view. 
 
 ' My Charge is to me a very sore subject. Most 
 unfortunately for me, before it can be delivered it must 
 be written. Still if it would but write itself in the 
 night, while I am asleep, I should do very well. But I 
 have to write it myself, as I can find time in the day. 
 I cannot write at night. Of all the Charges I have 
 delivered, none has required more careful and leisurely 
 thought. And it has so happened that the time which 
 I should have allotted to it has been occupied by all 
 manner of distracting engagements, as if the course of 
 things had been ordered for that end.' 
 
 fourtli magnitude. All of a sudden he was observed to brighten into 
 the most conspicuous of the gi-oup. The astronomers then found out 
 that he had been sending out a mass of incandescent vapor, which 
 must have raised the temperature of every member of his system 
 subject to his iufiuenoe 780 times. You understand that if our sun was 
 to blaze out in like manner our globe would be dissolved into gas, 
 and you will remember that he has been lately in a state of great ex- 
 citement, though hitherto his discharges of incandescent hydrogen have 
 only reached a. height of 10,000 miles. But they may be only a prelude 
 to some more serious eruption ' 
 
240 BlSHUi:' T±UKL,WAL,JUB 
 
 •16 Nov., 1869. 
 
 ' . , . . You must not let yourself think so ill of 
 your friends as to imagine that the charm which 
 attracts them to you now, depends upon the freshness 
 
 of youth That which those who are worthy of 
 
 your friendship value in you is something more solid 
 and durable — the qualities of your mind and heart, 
 which are not impaired, rather improved by the lapse 
 of time. Their cultivation and exercise, which need 
 not cease but with the last pulse of life, will, if you 
 only trust them, preserve you from the sense of lone- 
 liness, as they cannot exist without being seen and felt, 
 and they cannot be seen and felt without awakening 
 sympathy. 
 
 ' The decline of life can never know again the fresh- 
 ness of the spring, but it may have its Indian summer, 
 even more delicious in its deep calm, its magical color- 
 ing, and its mysterious loveliness. Such a season is, I 
 hope, reserved for you.' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 17 Nov., 1869. 
 
 ' .... I have been dipping into " L'Homme qui 
 rit." Who he is I do not yet know, except that he 
 is every reader of the book capable of enjoying the 
 author's blunders. They all spring out of the insatiable 
 vanity of a man who, not content with being a poet, 
 must pass for a man of universal learning ; e. g. " Le 
 Basque et I'lrlandais se comprennent, ils parlent le 
 vieux jargon punique." I dare say you know that it 
 would be difficult to name any three languages more 
 wide apart from one another. He had heard of the 
 Nonjurors, and pretends to have read an entry made 
 " Sur les marges de la vieille bible de la Chapelle ^res- 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 241 
 
 hytSrienne des Non Jurors de Londres." Then can you 
 guess what part of the world he alludes to in speaking 
 of a rosary which was "facile h, reconnaftre pour un 
 rosaire irlandais de Llanymthefry, qu'on appelle aussi 
 Llanandeffry " ? 
 
 ' In his descriptions he has almost out-Victor-Hugoed 
 himself. Only so great, though perversely abused, a 
 
 talent could have made them endurable In the 
 
 absence of news of the day, perhaps you would hke to 
 see a Slavonic Christmas Carol, which gives an account 
 of the Creation of the World. 
 
 ' " Before the world began, 
 
 Was neither Heaven nor Earth, 
 Only blue sea, 
 
 ^nd in the midst of the sea two oaks. 
 On them perched two pigeons 
 Began to hold counsel together. 
 To hold counsel, and to coo : 
 However are we to found a world ? 
 Let us dive to the bottom of the sea. 
 Bring up fine sand. 
 Fine sand, golden pebbles- 
 That fine sand let us sow,, 
 > The golden pebbles let us blow, 
 Of the fine sand will come a little Earth, 
 A black little Earth, green grass : 
 Of the golden pebbles a bright sun. 
 Bright sun, clear moon, 
 Clear moon, wee stars " ' 
 
 'Abeegwilt Paxacb, 29 Nov., 1869. 
 
 '. ... I do not know how to repay you for so 
 
 many legejids without going back to very ancient times 
 
 indeed. You did not tell me what you thought of 
 
 my Slavonic Christmas Carol. I must try once more 
 
 whether you can relish another myth from the same 
 
 source. 
 
 11 
 
242 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ' On the Creation op the World. 
 
 ' Once there was nought but heaven above and 
 water below. And God sailed upon the water, and saw 
 a lump of hard foam, on which sat Nick. " Who art 
 thou?" asked God. "I shall not tell," said Nick, 
 "unless you take me into your boat." To that God 
 consented, and the other said, "I am Nick." And 
 they went together, both silent, until at last Nick 
 spoke. " 'Twould be well if there was some firm land." 
 " Be it so," said God. " Dive to the bottom of the sea 
 and bring up a handful of sand, I will make firm land 
 of it. But when you bring the sand say, I bring thee 
 in God's name." Nick immediately dived and took up 
 sand in both hands from the bottom of the sea, but said 
 nothing as he did so; and when he came up again to 
 the top of the water he had nothing in his hands. God, 
 seeing how matters stood, sent him down again to the 
 sea floor. Nick dived, and, as he scooped out the sand, 
 said, " I bring thee in God's name." When, however, 
 he came up to the surface he had no more sand than 
 what was left under his nail. God took that sand, 
 scattered it on the water, and therewith made firm 
 land. 
 
 ' According to another version, when Old Nick dived 
 the second time, and spoke as God commanded, he 
 would have some of it for himself ; so he put some of 
 the sand into his own mouth and gave God the rest. 
 God strewed that sand on the water, saying, " Let the 
 earth increase and grow." And out of that grew three 
 parts of the world; but the handful in the devil's 
 mouth also began to grow till his cheek swelled, and do 
 
LETTERS TO A FEIEND. 243 
 
 what he would he could not get rid of it until God 
 helped him. Then, however, the devil spluttered all he 
 had hidden upon the face of the earth, and of that were 
 formed swamps, deserts, and barren places. 
 
 * Anotheb. 
 
 ' When as yet there was neither heaven nor earth 
 there was only the lake of Tiberias, but without any 
 shore, and the Lord came down from the sky on the 
 lake of Tiberias, and on the lake he beheld a duck 
 swimming. Now that duck was Satanael, and sprang 
 from the sea foam. And the Lord said to Satanael, 
 " And who art thou, that thou knowest me not ? " 
 And Satanael answered, " I am a god." " And what 
 dost thou take me for?" again asked the Lord. And 
 Satanael said, " Thou art God of gods and Lord of 
 lords." And God ordered the duck to dive to the 
 bottom of the sea, saying " Bring me up earth, sand, 
 and flints." And Satan brought them up accordingly, 
 and the Lord took the earth and sprinkled it on the 
 sea of Tiberias, and there was a spacious tract of firm 
 land on the water. And after that he took a flint from 
 Satanael and brake it in two, and half the Lord kept 
 in his own right hand and half he put into Satanael's 
 left. And the Lord took the sand and began with it to 
 strike the flint, saying, " From this flint fly out angels 
 and archangels after my image and likeness, strong and 
 without body." And sparks of fire began to issue from 
 the flint, and the Lord created angels and archangels, 
 all the nine orders. And Satanael seeing what the Lord 
 had created began to do the same, and from his left 
 
244 EiSHOr iiliiKij WALL'S 
 
 hand his angels began to fly forth ; and Satanael created 
 a great host of his angelic orders. 
 
 ' ( To Je continued.') 
 
 ' (Suite.) 
 
 ' When the devils revolted and fell to the earth they 
 took the sun with them ; and the king of the devils 
 spiked it with his spear and carried it on his shoulders. 
 But when the earth besought God that it might be 
 warmed by the sun, God sent an archangel to try and 
 recover the sun from the devil. The holy archangel 
 descended upon earth and joined company with the 
 king of the devils, but he guessed what his friend was 
 after and kept on his guard. As they walked over the 
 earth they came to the seaside, and had a mind to 
 bathe, and the devil struck his spear with the sun into 
 the ground. When they had bathed awhile the arch- 
 angel said, " Let us dive to see which can go deepest." 
 And the devil said, " Dive, then." And the archangel 
 dived and brought up some of the sea-sand in his 
 teeth. 
 
 'Then it was the devil's turn, but he was afraid that 
 the archangel in the meanwhile would carry off the sun ; 
 so he spat on the ground, and of the spittle was formed 
 a magpie, whom he charged to look to the sun until he 
 should come up with some of the sea-sand in his teeth. 
 But as soon as the devil had dived the archangel made 
 a cross over the sea, and there was formed upon it ice 
 nine cubits thick. Then he seized the sun and flew up 
 with it to heaven. Thereupon the magpie began to 
 chatter. When the devil heard the voice of the magpie 
 he knSw what had happened, and that he must hasten 
 
LETTERS TO A EEIEND. 245 
 
 upwards with all speed. But there he sees the sea 
 covered with ice, and that he cannot get out. So, re- 
 turning without delay to the bottom of the sea, he took 
 a stone, and with it broke the ice, and in a moment was 
 after the archangel. And just as the archangel had set 
 one foot in heaven the devil reached him, and with his 
 claws tore away a great piece of flesh from the sole of 
 the other foot. The archangel having come wounded, 
 but with the sun, into the presence of God, broke out 
 into wailing, " What am I to do. Lord, so disfigured ? " 
 And God said, " I will decree that everybody shall have 
 a hollow under his feet like you." And there was 
 formed a little cavity under everybody's feet ; and so it 
 continues to this day, 2nd December, 1869.' 
 
 'Abekgwili Palace, 1 Dec, 1869. 
 
 ' This shortening of the days is very adverse to cor- 
 respondence, and indeed to all intellectual operations. 
 Unless I entirely renounce the society of my geese, at 
 the very season when they most appreciate my visits 
 and express their welcome most loudly, I must leave my 
 desk before post-time, and, when I return, I find that 
 night has set in upon Chaos, and I can discern nothing 
 beyond the narrow illumination of my lamp. I must 
 therefore write to you through the winter by hurried 
 snatches. 
 
 ' Though I say it that should not say it, the Slavonic 
 myths are very precious. They exhibit the state of 
 belief among the Slavonic tribes in the period when the 
 Slavonic heathenism was just making way for Chris- 
 tianity and blending with it. 
 
 ' The basis of the myths is Pagan, the form only 
 Christian. As to their date in the semi-Christian form, 
 
246 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 I know nothing. I should not have known of their 
 existence but for the accident of my belonging to an 
 association formed at Prague for the cultivation of the 
 Bohemian language and literature, from which, having 
 many years ago compounded for the annual subscription, 
 I have received a considerable number of Bohemian 
 books, among them a journal containing papers read 
 before the society, and it was in one of these that I 
 found our myths. 
 
 ' Their origin, of course, goes back to very remote 
 times indeed. But as Christianity was introduced 
 among the Slavonic tribes in the ninth century, one 
 may, perhaps, in a rough way, refer the myths to that 
 date. They clearly indicate a belief in a good and evil 
 principle. This duality comes out in a little variation 
 which runs thus (the evil one, you remember, created 
 a host of his own out of the flints). Then- he thought 
 in his heart, I wiU make me a throne in the clouds, 
 and shall be a peer of the Most High, that my hierarchy 
 may honor me. So he made him a throne in the clouds 
 of the north, and exalted himself, and became prince of 
 his own angelic host. And the Lord, seeing in him an 
 adversary, sent Michael to cast him down. Michael 
 came to Satanael, but seeing in him great divinity did 
 not venture to face him, but returned to God, and said, 
 "Lord, thy divinity is great in him." And the Lord 
 took his divinity from him, and said, " Go, and cast 
 him down." Then Michael went and smote Satanael 
 with his staff, and cast him down with all his evil host, 
 and they were three days and three nights falling to 
 the earth, like a shower of hailstones. By some tribes 
 the two warring powers were called Belbuh and Tcher- 
 nobut — the White God and the Black God. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 247 
 
 '"Sut they were not abstract principles. Each was 
 the sun at the opposite periods of his apparent course. 
 As the winter sun seems to sink nearest to the earth, 
 he brings up sand from the bottom of the sea, and 
 spreads it over the earth in the shape of ice and snow, 
 which his antagonist, as he rises to the ascendant, melts 
 
 ' My author does not explain the two oaks and the 
 two doves. I am afraid that your interpretation does 
 too much credit to the philosophy of the heathen 
 Slaves. . . . . ' 
 
 'Abebgwili Palace, 21 Dec, 1869. 
 
 '. . . . Your remark on the Slavonic myth does 
 great credit to your acuteness. I was myself very much 
 struck — I may say, surprised — by the epithet bodiless, 
 and especially in combination with strong. The idea of 
 force without 6oc??/ seemed too philosophical for such a 
 stage of society; and I think it must have a remoter 
 origin. But I do not know that there is any inconsis- 
 tency between it and the diving archangel. You have 
 only to suppose — if you can conceive that which is 
 without body falling to the ground — that when the 
 angels reached the earth they took body. 
 
 ' I suppose you know that the continuation of the 
 " Earthly Paradise " is out. I have it, but have not yet 
 been able to begin it. 
 
 ' I am in Froude's eleventh volume, which you can- 
 not lay down when you have once taken it up. It is 
 only disagreeable to find Elizabeth growing more and 
 
 more odious at every page of her history This 
 
 shortest day has been still shortened, as they would say 
 over the Channel, by fog and incessant rain. I long to 
 be out of it.' 
 
248 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 'Abbegwili Palace, 27 Dec, 1S^9. 
 ' .... As you have not heard about the " Earthly 
 Paradise," it seems quite possible that you are not yet 
 aware of Miss Clark .... having come out in full 
 blossom as an authoress. Three days ago I received 
 the agreeable surprise of a beautiful volume, resplen- 
 dent with green and gold, entitled " The Lost Legends 
 of the Nursery Songs," by Mary Senior Clark, illus- 
 trated from the author's designs. It seems that she 
 had written them for the amusement of her orphan 
 nieces. But one or two had found their way into 
 "Aunt Judy's Magazine;" where they were seen and 
 coveted by Bell & Daldy, who offered to publish them 
 as a Christmas volume. The stories are told with 
 great simplicity and quiet humor. It seems that the 
 " Spectator " was taken in by the title, and fancied 
 that they were not the pure offspring of imagination, 
 but results of research.^ Though I have only just 
 opened the new part of the " Earthly Paradise," I feel 
 sure that you need be in no fear of disappointment. 
 Morris is one of those poets who will always be true to 
 themselves, I am not certain whether you have read 
 his "Jason." By-the-bye, you do not mention Ten- 
 nyson's " Holy Grail," which I am expecting daily. 
 Your silence on such an event makes me suspect that 
 this too IS new to you. If you have read little or 
 nothing of Froude, but mean to read him, you have 
 before you occupation for a pretty long time. If the 
 same had been the case with me, either as to this, or 
 to Kinglake's "Crimean "War," or Thiers's "Histoire 
 du Consulat et de I'Empire," I doubt whether I should 
 
 1 ' It is Anita who wrote the History of the Swallow She has 
 
 a vein of very pleasant, simple humor." 10 Aug., 1869. 
 
LETTERS TO A EEIEND. 249 
 
 ever have had courage to attack them. So it is that 
 I have only read parts of M. Martin's excellent great 
 work. 
 
 'If you ever made an idol of Queen Elizabeth, I 
 hardly know whether it would be safe for you to read 
 the six volumes of her reign, unless you are prepared to 
 see the idol broken to pieces. But, if you do, I think 
 you will never again call her " strong-wise." " Strong " 
 indeed she was, in the force of a capricious feminine 
 will, which would endure no contradiction : " wise " 
 only in a narrow short-sighted cunning, which was con- 
 stantly overreaching itself and defeating its own objects. 
 It may be said that she was wise enough to choose able 
 counsellors. And this would have been a merit if she 
 had not almost uniformly rejected their advice, and 
 forced them to become the unwilling instruments of 
 her selfish folly. 
 
 ' It will not cost me much time to let you know 
 what I think of Goethe's character. He had none for 
 anybody to think about. He was never in earnest 
 about anything but art and some scientific speculations 
 which were suggested to him by his poetical view of 
 nature. But as for any practical interests of humanity — 
 morals, politics, or religion — he played about them like 
 a bee, only to take in honey for his art-cell. 
 
 ' You are quite right about the German origin of 
 Matthew Arnold's " Philistines," and also have formed 
 a very correct conception of their nature. I am not 
 sure that in most cases it might not be sufficiently 
 expressed by Pedantry, as an abstract term, divested of 
 the Academical associations. But you seem to have 
 overlooked the real puzzle, which is how and why the 
 name of Philistines was applied to this class of people. 
 
 11» 
 
250 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 Why should a Jena shopkeeper suggest the idea of a 
 countryman of Goliath ? 
 
 ' Is it because the giant came out in full armor, 
 and with all the regular systematic appliances of war- 
 fare, to be knocked on the head by a stone of the brook 
 from the sling of a shepherd-boy ? Here it is time for 
 
 me to stop The room left is quite insufficient 
 
 for my good wishes to yourself, father, and sister. But 
 a folio sheet would be equally so without the interpre- 
 tation which you will give to this.' 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 251 
 
 1870. 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, New Year's Day, 1870. 
 ' . . . . "What an odd idea that was of yours to com- 
 plain of Froude for making Queen Elizabeth disagree- 
 able, as if he was writing a romance, and at liberty to 
 make her say and do what he would. Has it occurred 
 to you that it is not at all necessary that you should go 
 through the whole work ? I would have you send for 
 the last two volumes, which are certainly the most in- 
 teresting of all. In some of the earlier her incessant 
 wavering becomes almost intolerable, and the events are 
 not of the same magnitude. The great moral which I 
 read in the whole is the evil of personal government. 
 If Elizabeth had been subject to constitutional restraints 
 she would not have been a better woman, but she would 
 have been a better queen. Poor dear Burgon ^ is one 
 of those excellent men with whom intolerance is at ] 
 once an impulse and a duty, who could not be tolerant ' 
 if they would, and would not if they could, and he is 
 
 not a rare specimen of the class I echo your 
 
 New Year's wishes from the ground of my heart.' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 11 Jan., 1870. 
 ' . . . . What has led you to put your question 
 about Froude in such a shape ? " Is he fair ? " My 
 
 1 The present Dean of Chichester. 
 
252 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 question would be, " What reason is there to suspect 
 him of being unfair ? " I know absolutely of none, 
 except it be that he has made up his mind very decidedly 
 on sundry historical questions as to which opinions have 
 been divided. But when a man takes the trouble to 
 study the original documents which contain the history 
 of the period he writes about, and fortifies every asser- 
 tion that he makes by the very words of the most 
 authentic witnesses, it seems rather hard that he should 
 be charged with unfairness because he accepts that 
 which he finds. With regard to the character of Eliza- 
 beth, I do not believe there will ever again be much 
 doubt among impartial judges. Mary, as laboring 
 under far graver charges, will probably for a time con- 
 tinue to find advocates, as one has very recently appeared 
 to defend her against that of having been privy to the 
 murder of Darnley. But he seems to have satisfied no 
 one but himself. Whether the public safety required 
 Mary's execution — and the fault of Elizabeth was the 
 letting her live so long — is one of those questions which 
 will never cease to afford subject for discussion. 
 
 ' I return your correspondent's letter. The' whole 
 discussion seems to me very strange. Why in the world 
 should you grudge Menu or Confucius the credit of 
 having made some very good observations on things 
 which would help men to live more comfortably to- 
 gether? I know of no reason for supposing that the 
 writings of either were interpolated with Christian 
 sentiments. But as little do I understand why your 
 correspondent, wishing to show that our Lord had been 
 " anticipated " in his moral doctrine, should have taken 
 you to India or China. Was he not " anticipated " by 
 Moses ? And does he seem to have piqued himself 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 253 
 
 upon his originality ? Was not his question, " What 
 readest thou ? " If the Ten Commandments did not 
 make him jealous, why should he fear the Ten Virtues 
 of Menu ? But what are we to say to the Greek and 
 Roman ethical systems? Was there nothing in them 
 that he would have approved of? Was everything 
 wrong in the Twelve Tables ? What is the theory of 
 human nature we are starting from? Is it the ultra- 
 Calvinistic doctrine that, in consequence of the Fall, 
 mankind had lost all power of discerning between 
 moral good and evil, so that the heathen moralists 
 could teach nothing but what was false and wrong! 
 The idea of pitting Christ against Menu or Confucius, 
 as a law-giver or philosopher, seems to me to imply so 
 total a misconception of the whole subject, that I do 
 not know how to deal with it. When you abstract from 
 the divine personality and the animating principle, what 
 is left will be no better than dry leaves or stone tablets, 
 and it will not signify much with what characters they 
 are inscribed. 
 
 'Pray do not begin to talk about primroses or 
 spring. It is the sure way to bring upon us that dread- 
 ful frost with which we have been threatened, but have 
 hitherto escaped.' , 
 
 ' Abbbgwili Palace, 19 Jan., 1870. 
 ' I really cannot allow you to ride off in that way 
 with an air of triumph. It was quite natural, and not 
 at all discreditable to your good sense, that you should 
 have been drawn into error by a person whom you 
 might not unreasonably suppose to be of some authority 
 on a matter of legend. But your defence of her posi- 
 tion from the example of S. Gennaro is quite untenable. 
 
254 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 No doubt, if the Blood had been contained' in a phial or 
 flask, the quest of the Vessel would have been the same 
 thing as the quest of the Blood, and vice versd. 
 
 ' But surely you do not suppose that the Cup used 
 at the Last Supper is exactly represented by the black 
 bottle which often makes its appearance on our rustic 
 Communion Tables. The Grail was hallowed by its 
 contents, but no part of the precious Blood was ever 
 supposed to have remained in it. 
 
 ' If pretends that it was, that would be an/ en- 
 tirely different legend, for which she should be invited 
 to produce authorities 
 
 ' I suppose you are aware that Mr. Spence is at 
 Paris, where he arrived on the eve of the Auteuil 
 tragedy.^ He has been in the thick of the revolution- 
 ary mobs. I think if he should present himself at 
 
 you should insist on his being fumigated before he 
 comes into the drawing-room. He has been very good, 
 sending me some of the treasonable newspapers. 
 
 ' In some of them there are views of the scene and 
 of the actors.' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 25 Jan., 1870. 
 
 ' - . . . The father of the infant prodigy was my 
 contemporary at Cambridge. The loss of such a child 
 was a great calamity, but probably one which no care 
 could have prevented. It would have been impossible 
 to keep it inactive. It could not keep continually 
 spending itself. But after all I see no proof that this 
 was the cause of its death.^ 
 
 * .... I think there seems to be no doubt that 
 
 1 The assassination of M. Noir by Prince Pierre Buonaparte. 
 * Appendix £. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 255 
 
 Basil Jones is to have St. Asaph. I consider it an 
 excellent appointment. It is stated as a fait accompli 
 by the " Spectator," and as a most lucky hit of Glad- 
 stone's. 
 
 ' . . . . Sir George Bowyer apparently believes that 
 real is common to French and English in the same 
 sense. Real might mean royal, only that it is not the 
 French or ProvenQal, but the Spanish and Italian form. 
 Of the meaning of the variously-spelt Grail, Sir George 
 appears never to have heard. Or of the Sacro Catino. 
 I have a Guide to Genoa which accurately describes 
 the emerald vase shown in the sacristy of S. Lorenzo, 
 and gives a plate of it. It is an hexagonal open ves- 
 sel, very narrow at the base. When Sir George says 
 that the " vessel " of the legend " was undoubtedly the 
 chalice," he contradicts himself, for according to his 
 etymology no vessel at all is " alluded to " in the name. 
 Among scholars there is, I believe, perfect unanimity 
 on this question. The authority of Littrd would, to 
 those who know his work, be sufficient ; but it is 
 confirmed by that of Diez, who devotes a page of 
 his " Lexicon of the Romance Languages " to the word 
 Graal, which he explains in the same way as Littr^. 
 He observes (I translate his German) : " Saint Graal, 
 the origin of which from Sarj^ Royal is refuted by the 
 Provencal forms, is in the epic poems the dish out 
 of which Christ partook of the Last Supper with his 
 
 disciples." . • . . ' 
 
 Jwn., 1870. 
 
 ' . . . . The only reason that at present occurs to 
 me as one which may have governed Tennyson's spell- 
 ing of Holy Grail is that he wished to mark the pro- 
 nunciation. It is, however, possible that he also meant 
 
256 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 to warn the reader against the false etymology into 
 which, I see, you have fallen. Nothing, I believe, is 
 more certain than that the name has nothing to do 
 with sang, either real or royal. Indeed, if you only 
 reflect, for a moment on the wildness of a quest after 
 a liquid, I think you will see that this etymology is out 
 of the question. Littr^ gives the true one : " Provenc, 
 grasal, grazal, grazans ; anc, Catal., gresal ; anc. Espagn., 
 grial; Bas Latin, gradalis, gradalus, 'sorte de vase, 
 origine inconnue.' " There never has been any doubt 
 that it was the name of a vessel. Did not you know 
 that it was brought from the Holy Land to Genoa, 
 where it is still shown under the name of il sacro 
 catino, and by persons not in the secret believed to 
 be a single emerald, being in fact a piece of green 
 glass? . . . .' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, 12 Feb., 1870. 
 ' .... I am much obliged to you for the sight of 
 Mrs. Williams's letter. It is very sad to think that 
 such a union should have been so short-lived. It is a 
 comfort to me to reflect that my intentions towards 
 him were always most sincerely friendly, and that the 
 breach between us was caused by a strange misappre- 
 hension on his part; while the immediate occasion of 
 his attack on me was a Charge which so offended 
 
 Archdeacon , that he absented himself from the 
 
 visitation dinner on the express ground that I "had 
 thrown my shield over Rowland Williams." Poor fel- 
 low ! he had the dSfauts of some of his qualiUs, and the 
 irritability which usually accompanies a very fine organ- 
 ization. The only verses of his I have seen are the 
 " Lays of the Cymric Lyre." ^ 
 
 1 ' . . . . Poor Rowland Williams, who was a man of real genius.' 
 Feb. 2, 1870. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 257 
 
 ' I do not know the " Voyages A^riens." I wisli 
 you had said whose it is. The title indicates a French 
 author, but one would have preferred Glaisher's account 
 of his own adventures. 
 
 ' Is not a speech which is sent to be delivered by 
 one who does not speak in his own name properly 
 called a Message? This, however, was not the official 
 description of that which was read last Tuesday. It 
 was still called " Her Majesty's most gracious Speech ; " 
 nor was I aware that it had been called a Message by 
 any one. 
 
 ' I do not know anything of Ruskin's " Queen of 
 the Air," having, I am ashamed to say, forgotten what 
 you told me of her. But if she is still reigning I am 
 not at all sartisfied with her government, and her 
 temper must be more like that of Queen Bess than 
 " Buddug yr Ail." ^ You know I warned you against 
 provoking her by untimely forestalments of spring. I 
 have, however, myself reason for compunction, as I am 
 conscious of having allowed myself to speak with levity 
 of the predictions of a hard winter, which are now 
 beginning to be realized with a vengeance. I can only 
 indulge a trembling hope that the cold produced by 
 the combination of frost and north-east wind may have 
 reached its utmost intensity yesterday evening, when, 
 as I sat close to a good fire, I could not keep myself 
 warm without throwing a heavy great-coat over my 
 knees. For persons who, as I hope is the case with 
 myself, have a touch of humanity in their nature, it is 
 a misery even to look out of the window and see their 
 fellow-creatures beating their breasts, inclining their 
 heads under the blast, and digging as deep as they can 
 1 Boadicea (Victoria) II. 
 
258 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 into their (probably empty) pockets. We have had, by 
 "way of variety, several snow showers, but not coming 
 down in genial broad flakes, but in the form of fro- 
 zen sleet, driven about by the cruel wind. For one 
 thing, however, I have reason to be thankful, having 
 hitherto taken no cold and escaped the prevailing 
 bronchitis.' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Stebet, 1 March, 1870. 
 
 ' I have to thank you for a very pleasant remem- 
 brance, which will abide with me as long as my memory 
 lasts. But for our chat of last week I should have 
 known nothing about the Exhibition at Burlington 
 House. In consequence of that, finding on Saturday 
 that I had finished letters before four, t started to see 
 the pictures. I did not know until I reached the door 
 that it was the last day, though if I had I do not think 
 I could have gone sooner. The tide of outgoers was so 
 high, that I hoped I might find the rooms nearly 
 empty. Instead of that they were so densely crowded 
 that it was hard to stir, much more to get a sight of a 
 picture. An hour later one breathed and saw more 
 freely. But then the pictures began to be visible 
 rather by the light they gave out than by that they 
 received. Still I managed to see almost everything of 
 any importance. Do you remember that Cuyp of Lord 
 Bute's? The first picture I came near surprised me 
 exceedingly. It was my favorite "Vierge des Ro- 
 chers," of which I have a print, taken from one in the 
 LouTre, which I had imagined unique. Mr. Boxall 
 afterwards informed me that there is much question 
 among connoisseurs how far either is a work of Leo- . 
 nardo or of his scholars. It seems that he took too 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 259 
 
 much pains with his works to admit of the supposition 
 that he ever repeated himself. 
 
 ' What a dismal prospect is opened by that article 
 on Geology in the " Edinburgh " ! It seems that we are 
 between two inevitable alternatives. Either we shall 
 be put out of our misery by a blow from the moon, or 
 we shall be swallowed up — moon and all — by the 
 furnace of the sun. That is to be the end of all the 
 marvellous development of this beautiful world and its 
 population. But the same fate awaits the sun, and, of 
 course, every body that moves throughout the universe. 
 With all it is only a question of time. And so the end 
 of all is universal annihilation and extinction of life. 
 Then one is'ledtoask: How did this little episode in 
 the history of the universe begin ? That is a thought 
 to turn one giddy ' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 17 March, 1870. 
 'I see that the article in the " Edinburgh " weighs 
 upon your spirits, as well it may. Perhaps it may be a 
 little comfort to you to see a different, even though it be 
 not in itself a very cheerful, view taken of the subject. 
 According to the " Edinburgh " we have before us a pros- 
 pect — so certain that it is only a question of time — of 
 a period when people will begin to frequent the Arctic 
 circle as the only tolerable climate on the face of the 
 globe. I have been lately looking into a little French 
 work, " Le Soleil," by one Am^d^e Guillemin, which 
 contains the results of almost all the latest researches 
 on the subject. His only fear is that a time must come 
 when the sun will have expended its whole stock of 
 heat and light, and leave the earth a gloomy lifeless 
 desert. As that calamity draws near, the Tropics will 
 
260 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 be the only habitable region of the earth, and will only 
 grow some of the hardier cereals and orchards of crab- 
 apples. Guillemin, however, is kind enough to say that 
 the probability of such an event is very slight ; but he 
 does not give his reasons. It is, however, reasonable 
 to hope that our successors will not suffer both of 
 these calamities, and until we know which it is to be 
 we may suppose it not impossible that it may be 
 neither. 
 
 'But I do not quite understand your theory of 
 absorption as reconcilable with continued existence. 
 Do you know how Sir J. Herschel illustrates the heat 
 of the sun ? Take a lump of ice — a column measuring 
 at the base 12,360,000 square feet, and 9^0,000,000 in 
 height. It would be melted in one second without at 
 all lowering the temperature of the sun. If our earth 
 ever falls into that furnace it must be instantly dissolved 
 into its primary elements. The only chance I see for 
 you is, that when you have developed into a full angel 
 you should become a " flame of fire." Then you may 
 find yourself at home in the sun, disport yourself on 
 the hydrogen mountain, ride on the crest of the fiery 
 billows, and play at hide and seek in the caverns of the 
 spots. How you will then enjoy the sight of our clouds. 
 When I read about these things I am struck with a 
 strange thought. Is there reason to believe that 
 among the millions of stars which are crowded in the 
 Milky Way, there is one better adapted for the habita- 
 tion of any creatures constituted like man than our 
 sun ? You know there is room in Sirius for ninety-four 
 such. It seems that none would be visible if it was not 
 a sun, the centre of a system ; so that if there are 
 habitable worlds — I mean for any creatures but flames 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 
 
 261 
 
 of fire — they must be in the, to us, invisible sys- 
 tems 
 
 ' When you directed my attention to the " Voyages 
 A^riens," did you know the book? It consists of 
 accounts of the ascents of three Frenchmen as well as 
 Glaisher, and is beautifully embellished with photo- 
 graphs of the aerial views. I cannot say that they 
 inspired me with any great longing for that kind of 
 travel, until the secret of directing the course of the 
 balloon is discovered. Glaisher ascended to the greatest 
 height ever reached, and yet thinks that our island is 
 too small on account of the nearness of the sea.' 
 
 'Abbkgwili Palace, 23 April, 1870. 
 
 ' .... I think that one of the most surprising 
 manifestations of your powers is that which concerns 
 myself. Having suffused me with a roseate hue, 
 emanating entirely from your own mature, you have 
 first persuaded yourself that it belongs to mine, and 
 then you set about converting other people to the belief 
 that I am not the disagreeable kind of person they had 
 always supposed me to be. 
 
 ' I have always been a believer in the blessedness of 
 self-sacrifice, though I have practised it so little myself; 
 but I hope you will so husband yours that the greatest 
 possible number may be benefited by it. And I cannot 
 
 help wishing that you were enjoying the spring 
 
 How curious it is to see myths spring up like mush- 
 rooms under one's feet. No bishop ever asked me what 
 I thought of Bishop Temple's speech in Convocation, 
 nor did I ever apply the Latin quotation to him. How 
 instructive it would be if one could only trace one such 
 
262 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 story as this to its origin, through all the intermediate 
 steps ! ' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Stebbt, 3 May, 1870. 
 
 ' When I wrote to you I had counted without my 
 host : namely, Convocation, in whose arms I have been 
 locked between five and six hours this morning, and 
 shall have to spend or waste I do not know how many 
 to-morrow. I can only say that, if I can get away in 
 time, I shall call on you about four to-morrow. 
 
 ' I ought to have apologized to you for my abominable 
 heedlessness about the speech. It had quite escaped 
 my memory that you had expressed a desire for a copy. 
 I also forgot to notice a remark which you made on the 
 subject of men delivering messages — kindly exempting 
 me, the only other exception being your father, from 
 the general charge of faithlessness brought against man- 
 kind by Mrs. . Is not the fact rather this ? — that 
 
 men are as trustworthy as women in the delivery of 
 hond fide messages, but are more apt to treat those 
 which they know can be of no appreciable consequence 
 
 — such as " Pray remember me to dear A . Give 
 
 my love to dear B . Kindest regards to dear C ," 
 
 as mere forms, rightfully belonging to the realm of the 
 Silences, whereas women conceive them as realities. 
 The Academy dinner was very pleasant. I sat between 
 Lord Halifax and Lord Westbury, and as he was on the 
 side of my bettermost ear, we had a good deal of really 
 pleasant talk. Are you not afraid of bringing together 
 two people, both of whom you like, without any cer- 
 tainty that they will like one another ? ' 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 263 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, 6 May, 1870. 
 
 ' I am so glad I was not a bystander at the duel.^ 
 I should have made myself excessively unpopular and 
 disagreeable, for I must have let out that I thought 
 both parties in the wrong, or, which I believe is gen- 
 erally still more offensive and provoking, both in the 
 right. 
 
 ' I should not like to pronounce peremptorily on a 
 matter which can be known only to the Searcher of 
 Hearts ; to all others only in the way of most uncertain 
 conjectural inference. At the same time one can hardly 
 help forming a judgment, though upon such imperfect 
 data. And I have my own impression both as to the 
 man and the woman. But I must try to express it in 
 the fewest possible words. I can hardly do so without 
 emitting a paradox. 
 
 ' I believe that Charles was quite in earnest in all 
 the convictions he professed as to his own divine rights, 
 but that this earnestness was just the cause of all his 
 practical duplicity. His end was in his eyes holy enough 
 to sanctify means in themselves wrong. But he was 
 only adopting a maxim which has governed the practice 
 of excellent and even holy men. 
 
 ' You know — or maybe you do not know — how 
 strenuously St. Chrysostom insists on the (not rig}it 
 but) duty of deceiving people for their good. Charles 
 must not be confounded with such men as Ferdinand 
 IV. of Naples, or Bomba of that ilk, or Ferdinand VH. 
 of Spain. 
 
 ' On the other hand, it seems impossible for any 
 
 1 This refers to a discussion on Charles I., Cromwell, and Mary- 
 Queen of Scots. 
 
264 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 impartial person, even if he has not read Carlyle, to 
 consider Cromwell as a Tartuffe. 
 
 ' I firmly believe that his convictions were deep, and 
 his general aims high and pure. But of him also it 
 may be said that the intensity of his earnestness was 
 the very cause qi his insincerity. He lived habitually 
 in a state of exaltation which could not be constantly 
 sustained, and so I am afraid he often fell into con- 
 ventionality and self-deception, which seem to be in- 
 separable from fanaticism. 
 
 'Mary I believe to have befen a bad, heartless 
 creature, quite capable of the worst that has ever been 
 imputed to her ; but as to her actual share in the 
 murder of Darnley, though Froude has made it highly 
 probable, I should not like even to make up my mind 
 without having read the recent apologies, particularly 
 Hosack's 
 
 ' You should get the last " Macmillan," to read 
 George Eliot's " Jubal " and Huxley's " Lecture to 
 Christian Young Men," in which he wishes himself a 
 clock that would always go right. 
 
 ' Should you like to be that ? ' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, 9 May, 1870. 
 
 ' . . . . Your remark on Huxley does not seem to 
 touch the point. I do not think that it is a question 
 about " sensitive influences," but about the quality of 
 actions, and the difEerence between man and brutes. It 
 is not whether it is better never to go wrong, but 
 whether it is better never to go either wrong or right. 
 
 ' The brutes are sentient machines ; they are gov- 
 erned by unvarying instincts; they perform animal 
 functions which they have in common with man ; but 
 
LETTEES TO A FRIEND. 265 
 
 they are not capable of actions to which, without an 
 abuse of language, we can ascribe any moral quality. 
 Does a clock deserve credit for veracity when it shows 
 the exact time of the day? Is the bee doing right when 
 it extracts honey from the flower ? Is the cat doing 
 wrong when it plays with its mouse ? Or the tiget, 
 when it springs out of the jungle on the young bride, 
 as in that pathetic story in what's-his-name's " Travels 
 in Tartary " ? No utterance of Huxley's that I had 
 ever seen before revealed to me so clearly the breadth 
 and depth of the gulf which separates his standing- 
 point from mine.' 
 
 'Abekgwili Palace, 3 Jvme, 1870. 
 
 ' Am I never to hear from you again ? 
 
 ' Pondering on the possible causes of your protracted 
 silence, I began to think that you must have taken fright 
 at something which I said about the plague of letters, 
 and have overlooked that I could only be speaking about 
 letters of businesswhich required answers, the sight of 
 which for some time I hated very much. But that could 
 never have anything to do with yours. 
 
 'I do not desire a great deal at a time, but you 
 could feed me, as Miss Clark fed her swallow, with tit- 
 bits of town news ; only do not send any enclosures 
 
 which it would puzzle me to decipher I began 
 
 to be quite unhappy from the implacable east wind 
 which accompanied the bright sunshine of May, and 
 have been- most thankful for the rain which has now 
 been followed by a genial temperature. 
 
 ' What can possess my peacock ? He is unfailing 
 in his attendance under my window, and I think has 
 never let three minutes pass between morning and 
 night without delivering himself^ of a series of notes 
 
 12 
 
266 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 which people who do not enjoy them call screams, yet 
 he is clearly unconscious of any absurdity or impro- 
 priety. 
 
 ' I hope Mr. Herbert has passed his examination 
 successfully, and consigned those books to a long ob- 
 livion.' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 4 Jwm, 1870. 
 
 ' . . . .1 wonder whether " Lothair " is in the Index. 
 Unluckily that would not keep it out of the hands of 
 those whom the " Index " makers would most wish to 
 prevent reading it. I cannot say that I much enjoyed 
 the whole episode of Theodora. At times it seemed to 
 come too near the brink of something which grated on 
 one's feelings ; and, if I must say the truth, I was not 
 sorry when she was put out of the way. 
 
 ' Monsignor Capel had a full right to join the 
 Puritans in their condemnation of novels. But it 
 strikes me as a little strong, that the one exception he 
 makes in their favor should be for use in the pulpit. 
 And yet what was that description, drawn entirely 
 from fancy, of the B. Virgin's interior, but a scene 
 of a novel! It is however at the same time a speci- 
 men — I dare say a mild one — .of that utter indifference 
 to historical truth which is the all-pervading character- 
 istic of the Romish system, in which every distinguish- 
 ing doctrine and practice is grounded on some palpable 
 fiction. 
 
 ' As a matter of general experience, I believe that few 
 persons are able to take up again with pleasure a book 
 in which they have been crammed for examination, at 
 least until after a pretty long interval ; but it does not 
 follow that they should take a distaste to the whole class 
 of books to which it belongs. 
 
liJtters to a friend. 267 
 
 
 I remember that having been injudiciously plied 
 ■with Horace at the Charterhouse, many years elapsed 
 before I could enjoy the most charming of Latin poets, 
 though I did not on that account abandon my classical 
 studies ' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 7 June, 1870. 
 
 ' . . . . The Index ^ no doubt " applies to authors," 
 inasmuch as it affixes a stigma on those whose works 
 are inserted in it, one from which the authors of the 
 Bible would find it difficult to escape. But to say that 
 the Index " does not apply to readers " is an assertion 
 which would refute itself, even 'if it was not contradicted 
 by the most authentic of all evidence. 
 
 ' What could be the object of a list of books which 
 ought not to have been written, but which anybody was 
 at liberty to read (unless to promote the reading) ? On 
 the contrary, the application to the authors was merely 
 accidental and subordinate. The single practical object 
 was to prevent the books from being read. In the 
 collection of the canons and decrees of the Council of 
 Trent are inserted ten rules "concerning prohibited 
 books." 
 
 ' They are framed for the express purpose of pre- 
 venting any book being published or any way circulated 
 without (in Rome) papal or (elsewhere) episcopal or in- 
 quisitorial license. The tenth rule concludes with these 
 words, which I translate literally from the Latin : — 
 
 ' " Finally, it is enjoined upon all the faitliful, that 
 no one dare to read or have in his possession any books 
 against the direction of these Rules or the prohibition 
 
 1 This refers to a statement that the Index Expurgatorius applies to 
 authors only. 
 
268 BISHOP THIKLWALL'S 
 
 of the Index. But if any one shall read or have in his 
 possession books of heretics or writings of any author 
 condemned and prohibited on account of heresy or sus- 
 picion of false doctrine, let him immediately incur the 
 sentence of excommunication. But whoever shall read 
 or have in his possession books which have been inter- 
 dicted on any other account, beside the guilt of mortal 
 sin which attaches to him, let him be severely punished 
 by the judgment of the bishops." 
 
 ' Does that read as if the Index applied " only to 
 authors and not to readers of books " ? 
 
 ' When I was at Rome I heard that there was a 
 good library at the Dominican convent of the Minerva, 
 which was open to the public at a certain time of the 
 day. I went, and asked the librarian whether they had 
 Petrarch's Epistles. He informed me that they had, 
 but that I could not be allowed to read it without per- 
 mission. 
 
 ' I am very sorry to have had to write all this, for I 
 could not have spent the time in a more unpleasant or 
 unwholesome way. But if my life had been at stake I 
 could not have left you under so gross a delusion ' 
 
 ' Abergwili Palace, 11 Jrnui, 1870. 
 'I have bad news for you. My holidays are over 
 for the rest of my life. . . . You probably did not see 
 that I am one of a " company " which has undertaken 
 the revision of the authorized version of the Old Testa- 
 ment. I shall not live to see its completion ; but in the 
 meanwhile it will confiscate every leisure hour that other 
 things might leave to me, and will greatly lengthen the 
 intervals and abridge the compass (on my part at least) 
 of our correspondence. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 269 
 
 ' But I Cannot let the subject of my last drop without 
 another word. A Protestant, who is not as bigoted 
 and narrow-minded as a Papist, labors under two disad- 
 vantages when he enters into conversation on religious 
 topics with a Roman Catholic friend : — 
 
 ' 1. The Roman Catholic is likely to have been fur- 
 nished by his priest with a number of stock sofJhisms 
 and fallacies which the Protestant may not be able at 
 once to detect or refute. That notion of the Index has 
 prolahly been suggested by some Catesby, and you have 
 not been in a condition to contradict it. I believe in- 
 deed that Ffoulke's letters to Manning were placed on 
 the Index very much more for the sake of branding the 
 author, than of checking their circulation. — But 
 
 ' 2. The great disadvantage is this : — The Protestant 
 would not wish, if he could, to root up or shake his 
 friend's religious convictions ; would think it wrong and 
 cruel to attempt to do so, unless he was sure of being 
 able to plant something better in their room. The 
 Roman Catholic is restrained by no such scruples, but 
 on the contrary believes that to bring his friend to 
 " submit to the Church " is at once the kindest and the 
 most meritorious act he could perform.' 
 
 ' Abbkgwili Palace, 21 Jwne, 1870. 
 
 ' .... I do not consider you as in danger of being 
 perverted. I know few persons less likely to be taken 
 
 in the Romish snare Pray remember that a 
 
 zealous Roman Catholic considers the gaining a prose- 
 lyte to his Church as an end so supremely important 
 and meritorious, that it sanctifies all and every kind of 
 means — I speak advisedly, without restriction or quali- 
 fication — and that for the sake of this he will glory 
 
270 \ BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 in doing what, if done for any other purpose, he would 
 think wrong and dishonorable. That semi-liberal lan- 
 guage which has struck you so much in may of 
 
 course have been simply natural and spontaneous, but 
 it may have been skilfully calculated for its effect upon 
 you, as suggesting that his Church would at least not 
 
 require any sacrifice of your liberal sentiments 
 
 ' Can be so grossly ignorant of Protestant ob- 
 jections to the doctrine of his Church, or else of that 
 doctrine itself, as not to know that, if you had told him 
 what you thought, and what every Protestant thinks, 
 you must have said that in your opinion the " service " 
 is grounded on one of the most monstrous aberrations 
 of the human mind, and is altogether a gross caricature 
 of the ordinance which it pretends to represent. Of 
 course you could not say that to him.^ 
 
 ' BuLKELBY Arms Hotel, Beattmakis, 1 JvXy, 1870. 
 ' Yon perceive that the scene has shifted, and you 
 will at once conclude that there has been some change 
 in the condition of the principal performer. I have now 
 entered on that stage of convalescence in which I have 
 nothing to do but to regain strength and vigor, and 
 particularly some improvement in the article of sleep, 
 which has been of late very unsatisfactory. This I was 
 advised to seek at the seaside, and accordingly have 
 come to this, which I always thought the pleasantest 
 of all watering-places; and though many years have 
 elapsed since I was here last, I am glad to find that it 
 still makes the same impression on me. Of course you 
 know it well, and therefore I need say nothing of its 
 manifold beauties, or of the magical play of light and 
 shade by which they are continually diversified. As I 
 
LETTERS TO A TRIEND. 271 
 
 drove hither yesterday from the Menai Bridge, I could 
 not help thinking of the descriptions one reads of the 
 Turkish Bosphorus between Constantinople and the 
 Black Sea, with its kiosks and gardens coming down to 
 the water's edge. This deserves to be called the Cim- 
 merian (Cambrian) Bosphorus. 
 
 ' After some six weeks' confinement to my room the 
 change of scene is in itself pleasant, but the exile from 
 Chaos, at a time when I have so much need of many 
 things in it, is very afflicting^ .... 
 
 'Not long ago I saw an extract from a Romish 
 journal, "The Month," containing an angry notice of 
 " Lothair," but ending with a confident prediction that 
 the author would yet " submit to the Church." Now it 
 is quite impossible that this writer should know any- 
 thing more of the secrets of Disraeli's heart than the 
 rest of the world, or that he was in possession of any 
 fact to warrant such an expectation.' 
 
 ' BEAtrMAKis, 19 July, 1870. 
 
 ' . . . . The same post brings two declarations — 
 that of Infallibility and that of War. The latter is no 
 doubt the greater crime ; but it is saddening to witness 
 the triumph of falsehood won by the other. How 
 different would have been the result if votes could have 
 been weighed instead of counted. It remains to be 
 seen whether the minority, comprising so large a pro- 
 portion of all that is respectable in the Roman prelacy, 
 will be driven to moral suicide, and recant the deepest 
 convictions of their hearts. 
 
 ' The war Is no doubt a tremendous evil. But I 
 think any one who observed the state of feeling between 
 France and Prussia since Sadowa, must have seen that 
 
272 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 it was inevitable, and nothing uncertain but the time 
 and occasion of the rupture. 
 
 ' I am not sure that Prussia is the more innocent of 
 the two parties. It may be more the misfortune than 
 the fault of Napoleon that he has put himself so glar- 
 ingly in the wrong, and roused not only all Prussian, 
 but almost all German feeling against him. 
 
 ' This is my last day at Beaumaris, and the Menai, 
 as if conscious of my approaching departure, is over- 
 hung with a thick canopy of clouds. I intend to sleep 
 at Carnarvon to-morrow, and hope to be the next day 
 once more in Chaos. 
 
 ' I wonder whether you saw the eclipse of the moon. 
 I had a perfect view of it as she rose above the hills 
 immediately in front of my window. But what you 
 will hardly believe is, that though I thought I remem- 
 bered having seen her at full the night before, and 
 though I noticed that the crescent was turned opposite 
 ways, I never suspected the real state of the case until I 
 saw it in the newspapers ' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 11 Aug., 1870. 
 ' . . . . No letter can now be written without a 
 word about the war. Considered with respect to the 
 frivolity of the pretext assigned on the French side, 
 and the absence of all rational motive, the war may, no 
 doubt, be justly called iniquitous ; but considering its 
 absolute necessity, I should hardly say it was more 
 iniquitous than an earthquake or a volcano. I believe 
 that no human power could have done more than defer 
 it a little longer. But Napoleon found that the temper 
 of his army did not allow him to wait any longer, and 
 he also believed that he was better prepared than 
 
LETTEES TO A FRIEND. 273 
 
 Prussia. In this he seems to have been egregiously mis- 
 taken, and so far Ernest de Bunsen's prognostics seem to 
 have been verified. 
 
 ' I have no sympathy with either belligerent. I be- 
 lieve both to be equally ambitious and faithless 
 
 If I wish success to Prussia, it is only because it would 
 not, and the success of France would, endanger our 
 safety. How curious it is that in the nineteenth century 
 we should have another religious war ! 
 
 ' Such the present is in the eyes of many, both 
 abroad and at home. They look at France as the 
 representative of Romanism, Prussia of Protestantism. 
 Therefore all our Roman Catholics, who are cosmopo- 
 lites, wish success to France, and would do so on the 
 same ground if the war was between France and Eng- 
 land ' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 22 Aug., 1870. 
 ' .... It does not seem to me that Mr. C 
 
 needs any help. He has already some books about the 
 Jesuits which I have not. He might, perhaps, use- 
 fully add to them Theiner, " Greschichte des Pontificats 
 Clemenz XIV." I presume that he possesses, though 
 he does not mention, the " Exercitia Spiritualia." But 
 if his object is to get or read all that has been pub- 
 lished about the Order, I venture to say that neither his 
 means nor his life — unless prolonged to the years of 
 Methuselah — would sufiice. I had almost forgotten to 
 mention Gioberti's five portly octavos (in the collection 
 of his works), "II Gesuita Moderno." 
 
 'I have several other things if I knew where to 
 find them. But what strikes me as curious and very 
 suspicious, is that he should apply to you as the likeliest 
 
 12* 
 
274 BISHOP THIRL WALL'S 
 
 person to know everything about the Jesuits. How 
 have you come by that unenviable reputation of being 
 so deep in their intimacy ? and why had not I heard of 
 it before ? Have not I a right — especially considering 
 where you have been, and where you are, to feel a little 
 uneasy? I am glad, however, to see that you disclaim 
 any very profound or special knowledge of the subject. 
 Has anybody advised you to study four volumes of 
 " MMitations selon la M^thode de S. Ignace"? If so, 
 it is not from me that you must expect to borrow them. 
 .... Is there not a good article or two on the subject 
 among Sir J. Stephen's Essays ?....' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 23 Aug., 1870. 
 
 ' I cannot get over the impression of Mr. C 's 
 
 list of authors on the Jesuits, with whose works he 
 assumes you to be quite familiar. I did not at first 
 recognize under the name of Steinmetz a book entitled 
 " The Novitiate, or a Year among the Jesuits." Per- 
 haps I have also " Nicolini " among other works of the 
 same writer. One of the more important books on the 
 subject is Montlosier's " M^moire k consulter," for 
 which that excellent man, though a zealous Catholic, 
 was, through Jesuitical intrigues, deprived of Christian 
 
 burial Of course you know — unless it should 
 
 happen that you do not know — the " Jesuitenbiichlein " 
 and Daller, "Die Jesuiten wie sie waren und wie sie 
 Bind." . . . .' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 2 Sept., 1870. 
 
 ' I have reason to be very chary of my time. Until 
 I began to prepare for the next meeting of the Old 
 Testament Revision Company, I had not realized the 
 enormous amount of time which will be occupied, prob- 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 275 
 
 ably for tlie length of my life, by the preparation alone, 
 to say nothing of that which will be consumed by the 
 meetings, and I begin seriously to doubt whether it will 
 be possible for me to spare it very long. Yet if the 
 other episcopal members can do so, I could not decently 
 withdraw on that ground. 
 
 ' When I saw that you had been among the Ply- 
 mouth Brethren I felt very much interested, and I am 
 glad to know something of the character of their meet- 
 ings, though there seems to be little in that to distin- 
 guish them from other bodies. But I should have liked 
 to have learned a little as to their gbvernment and disci- 
 pline I never heard the name of more than one 
 
 Plymouth Brother, who is as eminent in his way as 
 Faraday among the Sandemanians — Dr. Tregelles. It 
 is curious that although the Plymouth Brethren appear 
 to have founded their society on the same principle as 
 the Irvingites — a restoration of the primitive Apostolic 
 Church — they are in their forms of worship and all 
 externals wide as the poles asunder. 
 
 ' The curtain, or cloud, which for so many days has 
 concealed the movements of the two belligerents, has 
 now risen, and the position of the French seems more 
 alarming than ever. It seems as if, in another week, 
 the Germans will be at the gates of Paris, and proba- 
 bly in possession of Metz and Strasburg. I think it is 
 very desirable that public sympathy should be rightly 
 directed. It should be remembered that, although the 
 French Government was the aggressor, the great mass 
 of the nation is innocent, and, if its sense had been 
 taken, would undoubtedly have voted for the main- 
 tenance of peace. I do not even consider Napoleon 
 himself as the most guilty party. I believe that he 
 
276 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 would have been more than content if he could have 
 remained quiet. But his throne and dynasty were at 
 stake, and it could not be expected from such a man 
 that he should sacrifice or risk them for the sake of 
 peace. The really responsible parties are the army and 
 the idle population of Paris, but above all the military 
 politicians and men like Thiers, who is, perhaps, the 
 man who has most to answer for, as the great business 
 of his life has been to keep alive the spirit of war and 
 conquest, which has plunged France into such calami- 
 ties I can, therefore, sympathize with France — 
 
 though formally or nominally the aggressor — as well as 
 with Germany, though really defending itself in a most 
 righteous cause. I not only do not desire that France 
 should undergo any needless humiliation, but should 
 regard it as a great evil, tending to perpetuate warfare. 
 I sympathize with Germany, but not with Prussia, and 
 have no wish that it should succeed any farther than is 
 
 necessary to preserve the unity of Germany I 
 
 cannot doubt that a complete triumph of France over 
 Germany would have been the most dreadful calamity 
 that could have befallen Europe, and especially this 
 country, which, as it is, has had a narrow escape. And 
 there is this difference between the French and the 
 Germans. The German is naturally peaceful, the 
 Frenchman is naturally warlike and an ardent lover of 
 military glory, and therefore always ready to follow the 
 lead of an ambitious ruler, which the German would 
 resist. These are the considerations which I think 
 ought to govern the sympathies and wishes of all 
 spectators on this side of the water. It is for this 
 reason that Cardinal CuUen prays for the success of 
 the French ' 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 277 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 22 Sept., 1870; 
 
 '.;..! had fancied you at home : and unless you 
 are living in a paradise I am sorry you are not there. 
 .... I strive in vain to construct a theory which ^vill 
 account for your hearing ghost-stories wherever you go. 
 I wonder whether you preserve them, as you ought to 
 do, in a book. You must have enough to fill a goodly 
 volume. 
 
 ' Till I read your last, I never could guess why 
 Disraeli had pitched upon the strange name of Lothair 
 for his hero. It is only another form of Lothario : 
 though the real man seems to be rather gallant than 
 gay. 
 
 ' The religions aspect of the war must be more 
 striking in Ireland than anywhere else, as nowhere else 
 is religious rancor so envenomed as it is in Ireland by 
 hatred of England. But the question of War or Peace 
 was never so interesting as at this moment, when such 
 immense issues appear to be pending on Jules Favre's 
 mission, which has at least some sense in it, if not a 
 fair prospect of success. That of Thiers — though I be- 
 lieve it was not a mission at all, but only a spontaneous 
 undertaking — had neither. But when one considers 
 that no man living, has done so much to involve France 
 in its present calamity, it must be owned that the un- 
 conscious impudence of such a step borders upon the 
 sublime. After all though, I have no Galilean sympa- 
 thies, and should have regarded the triumph of French 
 aggression as the'most dreadful of evils, and believe 
 that the French cannot suffer more than they hoped to 
 inflict. I cannot bear the idea of a bombardment, which 
 would destroy monuments and collections in which all 
 Europe has a common interest, and only for the sake of 
 
278 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 a needless and profitless retaliation for wrongs inflicted 
 on the grandfathers of the conquerors. 
 
 ' has been giving an impressive warning to 
 
 people who would be their own doctors. He keeps a 
 medicine chest, and a few days ago, feeling unwell in 
 the night, resorted to it for a black draught, but instead 
 of that swallowed an enormous dose of laudanum. The 
 fact was not discovered until five hours later, and af- 
 ter undergoing the torture of enforced waking and all 
 other miseries, he has been left in a sadly bewildered 
 state. The doctors found out that if the dose had not 
 been so strong he could not have survived it.' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 8 Oct., 1870. 
 
 ' .... I am also glad that you have not lost the 
 
 beauty of the ail-haf ^ at , though your enjoyment 
 
 of it there has been short. It is curious that here it 
 came to an end exactly as the last of my guests left the 
 house. 
 
 ' I quite forget where we were in the war at my last 
 letter. Whether it was after Sedan. Since then, how- 
 ever, it has entered on an entirely new phase, and 
 public opinion and feeling has undergone a change 
 which has carried me with it. Before Sedan my 
 sympathies were all on the side of Germany. I should 
 now be glad if the Prussians were compelled to raise 
 the siege of Paris and to evacuate France, though not 
 by any disaster which would create danger of a French 
 invasion of Germany. The complete subjugation of 
 France, which Bismark evidently hopes to effect, would 
 be a calamity to Europe and a danger to us, only a 
 
 ^ Second Summer. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 279 
 
 little less than would have been the success of France 
 in the full measure of its hoj)es ' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 11 Oa., 1870. 
 ' .... It always affords me real pleasure to burn a 
 canvassing letter, regarding it as a symbol of an atro- 
 ciously wasteful, cruel, immoral system which I should 
 like to abolish in like manner. I often regret that I 
 ever contributed to any society which adopts it ' 
 
 t 'Abekgwili Palace, 14 Oct, 1870. 
 
 '. . . . Your description of your fairy reminds me 
 of the " Silent Nymph with curious Eye," whom Dyer 
 invokes for some mysterious purpose, at the beginning 
 of Grongar Hill. But it is cruel of you to raise expec- 
 tations which you do not mean to gratify. 
 
 ' I thought you were going to say what your invisi- 
 ble informant had reported to you. But after havingi 
 wound up my curiosity to the highest pitch, you drop 
 the subject and leave me to guess what you had heard. 
 It seems clear that there has been a confusion of names, 
 and that the real nymph was not Intuition but Imagina- 
 tion ; from whom one never expects any discovery in 
 the sphere of reality 
 
 ' My omniscience had not reached to the peculiarity 
 of the Mesopotamian lion. That story of Sir Henry 
 Rawlinson's pet is quite affecting. But I should not 
 think it quite conclusive as to the general character 
 of the race. It should be remembered that Sir Henry 
 Rawlinson is himself a lion, and like is always drawn 
 to like.i 
 
 ' .... I have read Renan's article, and with great 
 
 1 Appendix F. 
 
280 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 sympathy and general assent.^ Yet I cannot be sur- 
 prised that Prussia should take a different Tiew of the 
 subject, or that Germany should be animated by feel- 
 ings which for the present prevent it from exercising a 
 sober judgment. I do not myself profess to be quite 
 impartial and disinterested. I long very much for the 
 return of the time when I may look for the " Revue 
 des deux Mondes " as regularly as for the " Times." 
 
 ' I wonder whether, if ever I see it again, Georges 
 Sand will be going on with her unfinished story. Do 
 you know her " Homme de Neige " ? It is a story of 
 intense interest, in fact sensational, and marvellously 
 managed, and containing nothing which the most fas- 
 tidious of mothers might not put into the bands of 
 a daughter. Yet it seems to be very little known, 
 and if I had not picked it up on a boulevard at 
 Paris, I believe I should never have heard of its ex- 
 istence ' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 29 Oct., 1870. 
 
 ' - ... I knew very well how it was. I was per- 
 fectly sure that as soon as your fairy came to be cross- 
 examined, and made to report what she had discovered, 
 she would betray herself as an impostor. Anything 
 more utterly at variance with the reality, or rather 
 more directly the reverse of it, it would be difficult to 
 conceive. She has made you believe that I work, 
 work, work like a galley slave or a needlewoman. The 
 fact is that all the employment of my day that could 
 without a gross abuse of language be called work is 
 limited to the hours before post-time. All the rest of 
 my time is spent in recreation. But even as to the 
 
 1 ' La Guerre entre rAllemagne et la France. Beime des deux Mondes, 
 15 Sept., 1870. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 281 
 
 working hours, there would hardly be a pretence for 
 calling them so, if it were not that all writing is dis- 
 agreeable to me, and therefore a labor. To many the 
 same amount of writing would be a pleasure. At the 
 same time I frankly admit that what is to me delightful 
 recreation, and therefore in the highest degree whole- 
 some both for mind and body, would to many be a 
 laborious task. I wonder how many there are who 
 would willingly sit down to read a play of Shakespeare, 
 to say nothing of ^schylus or Sophocles ? Does that 
 prove that I am killing myself when I do so? This 
 revision of the Bible, which so completely fills up every 
 spare minute, is in itself to me extremely pleasant and 
 interesting. But unfortunately there is a characteristic 
 of the Hebrew letters, many of which are only dis- 
 tinguishable from one another on a most minute in- 
 spection under strong light, which makes it painful to 
 read except in the daytime. By candle-light I can only 
 read about it. 
 
 ' .... I am rather alarmed at the thought of an- 
 other fairy — even a Welsh one. I think I will wait 
 until I go to town, which will be some six weeks hence, 
 when I may see Uncle Peter's book^ at the Athenaeum 
 or elsewhere, and if I think I can spare time for it, 
 may get it. 
 
 ' I am glad to have seen the letter of the learned 
 nun. But her reflections on heresiarchs cannot really 
 be considered as her own, and I am persuaded that it 
 would be doing her injustice to suppose that they were 
 the result of any study which she had given to the 
 subject. This would be evident enough from the want 
 of all discrimination in her sentence upon them. But 
 1 " A Fairy Tale of the Nineteenth Century." 
 
282 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 no person of ordinary intelligence was eyer led by the 
 study of Luther's life to charge him with " diabolic 
 pride." The nun does but echo the conventional 
 language of her teachers. Reduced to its simplest 
 expression, it is merely, " If you are not of my way of 
 thinking, it can only be through some moral defect." 
 You remember the Pope's remark on the death of 
 Montalembert, who had ventured to disapprove of the 
 Council. It was " pride," the Pope said, and unless 
 he was converted at the last moment his prospect was 
 very bad indeed ' 
 
 ' Abergwili Palace, 15 Nov., 1870. 
 
 ' . . . . What a desultory letter I am going to 
 ,write, skipping after you from twig to twig. Begin- 
 ning with Letter A, I do not see what use it can be 
 for me to say what I would have done in a contingency 
 which never did and never could arise ; but I can 
 promise that, under the like circumstances, I should 
 give your home the preference over every other house 
 that I know. You lay emphasis on the fact that I 
 alone of all your friends do not offer myself to your 
 hospitality. You do not bear in mind that I alone of 
 all your friends can never foresee whether I should be 
 able to come if I did. I never know the day when I 
 may not receive letters which would prevent me from 
 leaving home. 
 
 ' I found that at it was believed that a bishop's 
 
 great difficulty is how to get rid of his vacant time. 
 It was supposed that I regularly made an excursion 
 on the Continent every year, and the young lady who 
 told me of that was astonished when I observed that 
 any other clergyman (having the means) might take 
 
LETTERS TO A EEIEND. 283 
 
 his three months' holiday, but not a bishop. She had 
 
 fancied that it was just the reverse 
 
 'I am glad to find that anybody listened to my 
 sermon. I admired the patience of the congregation, 
 who, though three-fourths of them at least were long- 
 ing for the moment when I should make way for Dr. 
 Griffith, did not make any scraping with their feet or 
 show any outward sign of suffering. How can I in 
 cold blood tell mankind that, as they have not printed 
 sermons enough, I am going to add to their number? 
 Have you yourself read through Jeremy Taylor's, or 
 Blair's, or Tillotson's, or Barrow's, or South's, or New- 
 man's, or Manning's, or Liddon's, or the Bishop of 
 Oxford's? If ydu have, let me advise you to sit down 
 to Bossuet, Bourdaloue, Massillon, and Lacordaire. 
 When you have digested them, I shall be surprised if 
 you find yourself longing for more.' 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 24 Nov., 1870. 
 
 ' .... I overlooked a question in your former let- 
 ter which I ought to have answered. You wanted to 
 know how it is that you do not succeed so well in 
 story writing as in story telling. The reason is simply 
 that in one case you are only telling a story ; in the 
 other you are writing a book. All the good legends 
 have been taken down from the lips of persons who 
 
 never thought of seeing themselves in print. Get 
 
 to act as secretary, and I have no doubt that the result 
 will be delightful. 
 
 ' I have now read Gladstone's article in the " Edin- 
 burgh." .... It is a lamentable infatuation. At the 
 same time I am in no hurry for a war which can never 
 end but with the extermination of one of the belliger- 
 
284 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ents, as with a Power that will not be bound by treaty- 
 there could be no security but a material guarantee, 
 which Russia, even if willing, could not give. 
 
 ' It is a very gloomy outlook. 
 
 'What glorious weather! — thunder, floods, piping 
 winds, yet genial winter in his most charming aspect.' 
 
 ' Abbegwili Palace, 26 Dec., 1870. 
 
 ' .... I am frozen, and intensely dislike the frost. 
 But when I see what healthy enjoyment it affords to 
 the skaters on my pool, and will do to a young nephew 
 who is coming to me to-morrow, I have not the heart 
 to wish it gone. On the other hand, I reproach myself 
 with the little I suffer from it when I think of the 
 number of poor creatures who have to endure it, with- 
 out a fire to flee to, and with insufficient clothing and 
 empty stomachs ; but still more when I think of the 
 misery it inflicts on the wounded in the battle-field. 
 
 ' I do sit in this window of Chaos. But I sit in a 
 great-coat. There is no other part of the room where 
 it would be possible for me to do what I have to do. I 
 do not think you have an adequate idea of the diffi- 
 culty of organizing Chaos. I know that your faculty of 
 arrangement is great, but I do not think you would 
 like to undertake the task of sorting my letters accord- 
 ing to the various circumstances which render it neces- 
 sary that they should be kept near me for a longer or 
 a shorter time, and some preserved while others are 
 destroyed. Also, you do not seem to reflect that, when 
 you have finished your work, it would be all buried 
 again, in the course of a few days, under fresh paper 
 showers, like footsteps in a snowstorm. Chaos is 
 choke-full of books and pamphlets. But why ? Simply 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 285 
 
 because there is no room for them anywhere else in the 
 house, except in piles, which would make them utterly- 
 useless. 
 
 ' . . . . Before I forget it, tell Miss Jewsbury that 
 my riddle of the musicians was no doubt a very good 
 one in the time 6i Sir Isaac Newton; and that you 
 ought both to be thankful for having learned that in 
 his day a table was as much required for music as for 
 card-playing.i 
 
 ' May you be able to, keep yourselves and guests 
 warm, and enjoy a thoroughly pleasant Christmas.' 
 
 1 ' Four people sat down at a tatle to play, 
 
 They played all the night, and some part of next day : 
 This one thing observed, that when they were seated, 
 Nohody played with them and nobody betted. 
 Yet when they got up, each was winner a guinea, 
 Who tells me this riddle, I am sure is no ninny. 
 
 ' I copied it from a letter of Horace Walpole to Lady Ossory, and it will 
 amuse you to know that he says it was ascribed to Sir Isaac Newton.' 
 
286 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 1871. 
 
 'Abekgwili Palace, 3 Jem., 1871. 
 ' . . . . The fall of snow has shut me up in the house, 
 and my only exercise has consisted in spreading crumbs 
 
 for the dear little birds What shall I wish you 
 
 and yours? That each coming year may be happier 
 than the last.' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 16 Jan., 1871. 
 
 ' . . . . Carlyle has lately been guilty of a sad 
 paradox-platitude, ^ a protest against poetry, as some- 
 thing which no one can read quite in earnest. As if 
 it was not the form in which the most earnest thinkers 
 have always found themselves impelled to express their 
 very deepest thoughts. Fancy " In Memoriam " turned 
 into prose. . . . - ^ 
 
 ' One could almost believe — though one would not 
 venture to say it in the hearing of Huxley or Tyndall — 
 that this bitter winter was ordained to aggravate the 
 miseries of the war, so that it may serve for one genera- 
 tion. I am afraid that Paris is doomed: but after it 
 has fallen I see no prospect but of a long occupation of 
 France by the Germans. 
 
 1 ' His protest against poetry was contained in a letter to a Mr. 
 Bennett, which went the round of the papers, and was the subject of an 
 article in the " Spectator," 24 Jan., 1871.' 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 287 
 
 ' Have you seen Buclianan's " Napoleon Fallen " ? 
 It seems strange that the relation of the Emperor and 
 Empress should have been that of Macbeth and Lady 
 Macbeth. I always understood that the war was forced 
 upon him by the Army.' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Street, 18 Feb., 1871. 
 
 ' .... Of Miss Jewsbury ^ it may be truly said 
 that she is highly favored among vromen. Come what 
 may, nothing can deprive her of one source of inward 
 satisfaction, which I believe to be peculiar to herself. 
 It is not merely that she should have obtained so many 
 notable signatures to her Memorial, but that so many dis- 
 tinguished persons, who have, perhaps, no other opinion 
 in common, should agree on the single point of her 
 worthiness. Such an extraordinary concurrence of tes- 
 timony in her favor is certainly worth more than the 
 object itself. But still I hope that it wiU be useful as 
 well as honorable. 
 
 ' I have been fortunate this year in getting a very 
 good quiet view of the Exhibition of Old Masters at 
 Burlington House. It is a glorious collection, and shows 
 what inexhaustible treasures of art lie hidden in English 
 country-houses. All the great Schools are well repre- 
 sented, and I found my ideas of several Masters enlarged 
 by works which show them in new aspects. 
 
 'I now hope that I may get another view of the 
 Exhibition before I leave town. For you will have seen 
 that, through a most curious course of events, I have 
 been relieved from attendance at the meetings of the 
 Old Testament Revision Company, and am no longer 
 a working member. Though the sacrifice of time was 
 
 1 Appendix G. 
 
288 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 very great, I found the occupation extremely interest- 
 ing and the meetings highly enjoyable. But I have 
 the satisfaction of being able to look back on the step 
 I took without regret, and to feel that it has probably 
 done some good. But I could hardly have believed it 
 possible that a deliberative assembly could have be- 
 trayed such utter thoughtlessness and confusion of ideas. 
 A visitor forces me to end my letter, that I may not lose 
 this post. 
 
 ' 1 Regent Steeet, 20 Fel., 1871. 
 ' P.S. — Through a most extraordinary turn of events 
 T find my neck replaced in the old collar. If you should 
 not know the history I can explain it at some future 
 time. It is the most wonderful success ever achieved.' 
 
 '1 Regent Street, S.W., 23 Fel., 1871. 
 ' The history of what happened in the Upper House 
 is briefly this. The Bishop of Winchester's Resolution ^ 
 was carried on Wednesday by a large majority. I im- 
 mediately gave notice of that which you saw in the 
 " Times," which I moved the- next day. In my speech 
 oh the occasion I informed my hearers that my Resolu- 
 tion ^ was intended by me directly to contradict that of 
 
 1 ' That it is the judgment of this House that it is not expedient that 
 any person who denies the Godhead of our Lord Jesus Christ should he 
 invited to join either Company to which is committed the revision of the 
 Authorized Version of Holy Scripture ; and that it is further the judg- 
 ment of this House that any such person now in either Company shall 
 cease to act therewith ; and that this resolution be communicated to the 
 Lower House, and their concurrence required.' 
 
 2 "That, notwithstanding the restriction introduced into the fifth 
 resolution, this House does not intend to give the slightest sanction or 
 countenance to the opinion that the members of the Revision Com- 
 panies ought to be guided by any other principle than the desire to 
 bring the translation as near as they can to the sense of the original 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 289 
 
 the day before by the assertion of an opposite principle. 
 Notwithstanding this warning it was carried unani- 
 mously, and sent down to the Lower House, who on 
 their part made a proposal, the effect of which was 
 virtually and practically to rescind and annul the first 
 Resolution. The Upper House acceded unanimously to 
 this proposal. A more complete volte face movement 
 was never executed by a deliberative assembly. After 
 this it became evident that, as far as I was concerned, 
 the ground on which I had seceded from my company 
 was entirely removed, as it was impossible for me to 
 desire more complete satisfaction. I should not, how- 
 ever, have felt at liberty to comply with the requests 
 which I received to resume my functions, if I had not 
 ascertained that this was also Stanley's view of the 
 subject. 
 
 ' To have stood out any longer would have been 
 mere obstinacy and peevishness, for which I had no 
 motive, but, on the contrary, every reason to rejoice 
 in a success which I should have previously thought 
 impossible. I have received many congratulations upon 
 it, but, perhaps, I ought to value most of all the un- 
 intentional compliment which I just now see is paid 
 me by the " Guardian," who thinks my Resolution a 
 " strange " and " lamentable " one, and is evidently as- 
 tonished and annoyed to the -last degree at my having 
 induced the House unanimously to agree to it. The 
 only unfortunate part of the result is that the Upper 
 House has certainly lowered itself in public estimation. 
 All that can be said — and I really think that so much 
 
 texts ; but, on the contrary, regards it as their duty to keep themselves 
 as much as possible on their guard against any bias of preconceived 
 opinions or theological tenets in the work of Revision.' 
 
290 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 may be truly said — in its favor is, that having been 
 betrayed by a mistaken zeal and confusion of ideas into 
 an unwise step, they nevertheless had sufficient candor 
 and honesty to accept truth and common sense when it 
 •WHS presented to them, even at a great sacrifice of 
 consistency. I am afraid from the line taken by the 
 " Guardian " that it is the better part of their conduct 
 vi'hich virill be least approved of by the great body of 
 the clergy.' 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 6 March, 1871. 
 ' I only received your last P. S. a few minutes before 
 I stepped into the cab which was to take me to the 
 station. I put it into a side-pocket, and read it by the 
 way. But on my arrival here the short interval before 
 I met my guests was consumed in taking down the 
 paper piles which had been reared during my absence, 
 and in the course of this operation your letter unfor- 
 tunately sank into the depths of Chaos, and I do not 
 suppose I shall ever see it again. I am particularly 
 sorry that I am thus prevented from referring to it, 
 because there was one part of it to which I could not 
 at all assent; I mean that which relates to the sup- 
 posed contrast between the heathen-philosophical and the 
 Christian view of death. I do not remember the passage 
 in Lecky's work ^ from which you learnt this, but I am 
 sure that it is quite a mistake. You speak, indeed, of 
 philosophy and philosophers as if there was only one 
 philosophy or schooil (of philosophers, instead of there 
 being a great number of conflicting sects (which a 
 Roman Proconsul once enjoined by a decree to make up 
 their differences) ; but I drenture to assert that there 
 
 > History of Suropean Morals. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 291 
 
 never was any ancient philosopher to whom, as philoso- 
 pher, death was "welcome," though he might strive 
 more or less successfully to reconcile himself to it. The 
 elaborate reasoning by which Cicero (drawing from all 
 the philosophy of all the schools) tried to accomplish 
 this feat proves how little he really satisfied himself. 
 He devotes one book of one of his treatises to this 
 subject, and his argument is that death is either an 
 utter extinction of sense or a transition to a better 
 state. 
 
 ' In the former case all the comfort he can suggest 
 is that life is so full of miseries as not to be worth 
 keeping. The alternative confessedly depended on a long 
 chain of very questionable ratiocination. The Stoics, 
 on their principles, could not take this view. To them 
 death, as an outward thing, was a matter of indifference, 
 just as the acutest bodily pain, which could not affect 
 the wise man's well-being, since this depended on virtue 
 alone. There might be cases in which the wise men 
 would prefer death, if to die was, as Cato fancied it, an 
 act of virtue. Otherwise all that he could do was to 
 face it without fear. With the Epicureans, who were 
 the most popular sect, it was far otherwise. To them 
 death, except as a release from pain,, could never be 
 other than in the highest degree Mwwelcome.: Horace 
 was a very sound Epicurean, and we see how he taught. 
 Death, was to him simply an inevitable evil. He does 
 not attempt to extenuate it by disparaging: the value 
 of life. He does not even attempt to offer any " com- 
 fort." His practical conclusion is, "Let us eat and 
 drink, for to-morrow we die." Hear how he preaches 
 (in Conington's translation) to his friend Postumus : — 
 
292 ■ BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 " Ah " (the Latin is Eheu ! — alas !) 
 " Ah Postumus ! they fleet away. 
 
 Our years, nor piety one horn- 
 Can win from wrinkles and decay 
 
 And Death's indomitable power. 
 
 Your land, your house, your lovely hride 
 Must lose you ; of your cherish'd trees 
 
 None to its fleeting master's side 
 Will cleave, but those sad cypresses.'" 
 
 ' Then comes the moral, delicately conveyed, but 
 clearly reprehending Postumus for hoarding his wine : — 
 
 " Your heir, a larger soul, will drain ^ 
 
 The hundred-padlock'd Cajcuban." 
 
 ' In another ode the lesson is given more directly : — 
 
 " strain your wine and prove your wisdom ; life is short ; should hope 
 be more ? 
 In the moment of our talking, envious time has ebb'd away. 
 Seize the present ; trust to-morrow e'en as little as you may.'' 
 
 ' But what seems to me strangest of all is that the 
 heathen philosophers of any sect should be supposed to 
 have an advantage in this respect over a Christian. 
 Socrates himself believed that he had no reason to fear 
 death, because for him it could not be a positive evil, 
 and might be relatively a good. That was the utmost 
 extent of the " welcome " he would give to it. Who, 
 then, shall represent the Christian view ? . . . . St. Paul. 
 His language is : " To me to live is Christ, and to die is 
 gain." 
 
 ' " I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire 
 to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better. 
 Nevertheless, to abide in the flesh is more needful for 
 
 you." 
 
 ' That seems to go a long way beyond Socrates in 
 the " welcoming " of death. 
 
LETTERS TO A EEIEND. 293 
 
 ' I am afraid there are some questions whicli I have 
 forgotten ; but one I remember concerned the "-Revue 
 des deux Mondes." I thought it possible that I might 
 find a continuation here; but none has come. When- 
 ever it appears it will be like the olive-leaf in the dove's 
 mouth, showing that the deluge has subsided. But 
 who can tell how many of th^ contributors have sur- 
 vived ? The effect of the war will also, I am afraid, be 
 detrimental to the character of the " Revue," as it 
 will hardly be able to find room for any other topic. 
 
 'My candidates left me this morning, and this 
 evening 1 am to entertain the Judge. But the Bar 
 have almost all flown away.' 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 8 March, 1871. 
 
 ' P. S. -^ The lost one has miraculously emerged from 
 Chaos. I see that, although what I said as to the 
 supposed " difference between the ancient philosopher's 
 and the Christian's acceptance of death " applies to your 
 remark on that point, if I had had the letter before me 
 I should have said something more. It was no part of 
 the practice of any " ancient philosopher to court death 
 even to suicide," though there might be here and there 
 a fanatic who had talked himself" into such a belief of 
 the misery of life as to count death the lesser evil. But 
 the instinctive dread of death, when apparently near at 
 hand, has, I believe, been always equally strong among 
 all members of the human race. I showed you how it 
 haunted cultivated minds in the heathen world, even 
 when viewed from a distance. If it casts a deeper 
 shade over any Christian life, it is only in connection 
 with the doctrine of future retribution. But when you 
 compare a philosopher with a Christian you ought to 
 
294 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 consider them both as such, and not to contrast a 
 philosopher who is true to his principles with a bad, 
 inconsistent Christian. You seem quite to have for- 
 gotten that if there were philosophers — who, I believe, 
 might be counted on the fingers of one hand — who 
 " courted death even to suicide," there were hundreds 
 and thousands of Christians who courted it even to 
 martyrdom. 
 
 ' The ordinary complaint of divines is, that the cer- 
 tainty of death and uncertainty of life make so little 
 practical impression on the minds of their hearers. 
 But if the question is whether the ancient philosophy 
 (of any sect) or the Christian faith (common to all 
 churches) has been the more potent to raise men above 
 the fear of death, I should like to know where is the 
 ancient philosopher who ever broke out into such a 
 paean as, " O death, where is thy sting ? O grave, 
 where is thy victory?" When you say, "Yet the 
 hereafter was equally obscure to each," you confuse two 
 entirely different things. To the philosopher the here- 
 after was indeed obscure, as he was himself conscious 
 of its obscurity. But to the Christian it was no other- 
 wise obscure than as others might doubt that which he 
 believed. To himself, so far as concerned his " accept- 
 ance of death," it was not in the least obscure. It was 
 a fact as clear and certain — rather more so — as any of 
 his present existence.' 
 
 'Abbrgwili Palace. 
 ' P. S. — The olive-leaf has arrived in eleven leaflets. 
 How shall I ever find time to turn over such a foliage ? 
 
 '9 March, nn: 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 295 
 
 'Abbrgwili Palace, 16 March, 1871. 
 ' I ought by rights to have looked and seen what 
 Lecky himself said before I made any remark on that 
 which you reported of him. But he was at the other 
 end of the house, and I had not leisure to search for 
 the passage to which you referred. Now that you have 
 been so good as to save me the trouble of the search I 
 have read the passage, and I see that your remark was 
 very natural, and that he alone is responsible for the 
 error into which, as I think, you have fallen. I am 
 extremely dissatisfied^ with his whole treatment of 
 the subject. It appears to me superficial and confused 
 in the highest degree. From beginning to end I find 
 no guiding principle, no attempt to discriminate be- 
 tween the different cases which he cites. He betrays 
 an utter incapacity of appreciating the moral character 
 of the actions he relates. He lavishes his admiration 
 on the most unworthy objects. He evidently fancies 
 that he sees "grandeur" (p. 231) in Cato's suicide, and 
 that the highest praise that could be given to that of 
 Otho is that it was " equal in ' grandeur ' to that of 
 Cato." He omits to point out, manifestly because he 
 did not perceive, the wide dissimilarity of the two cases. 
 If Otho really killed himself to prevent a civil war, his 
 act was one _of noble self-sacrifice, though it might not 
 be consistent with a Christian principle which> was 
 also that of the elder philosophy (see p. 224). But 
 Cato's suicide was not only unjustifiable on this ground, 
 but was at direct variance with Stoical principles, and 
 must, if judged by them alone, be condemned as mean 
 and cowardly. He had no such plea to allege as Otho. 
 
 1 It is hardly necessary to say that the Bishop's general appreciation 
 of Mr. Lecky's two famous works was high. 
 
296 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 He merely shrank from the mortification of witnessing 
 Caesar's triumph. What heroism was there in that ? 
 
 ' Lecky observes (p. 228) that it was in the Roman 
 empire and among the Roman Stoics that suicide as- 
 sumed its greatest prominence, and its philosophy was 
 most fully elaborated. He seems quite blind to the 
 fact that the extinction of civil liberty produced an 
 immense depreciation in the value of life among all 
 educated Romans, whom the Imperial despotism ex- 
 cluded from all share in the administration of public 
 affairs, and so far tended to multiply suicides. But the 
 " elaboration " of the " suicidal philosophy" consisted 
 merely in the abandonment of all that was sound in the 
 ancient principles, and the substitution of purely Epi- 
 curean maxims : " that is the best which pleases him most " 
 (p. 229). No doubt in every society where the Chris- 
 tian and old Pythagorean idea of life, as a talent and a 
 trust, is unknown or forgotten, and where its value is 
 measured by enjoyment, suicide will be likely to become 
 common. 
 
 ' The most trifling occasion will supply a sufficient 
 motive. How often do we read of boys hanging them- 
 selves in a fit of passion because they have been thwarted 
 in some wish. They defy death as bravely as Cato, 
 and exactly on the same principle — impatience of some- 
 thing disagreeable. Just apply this test to Lecky's 
 cases, and see how many will bear it, or can be rec- 
 onciled with the Stoical doctrine that no external 
 accident such as pain or disease is an evil, and that the 
 wise man's happiness consists entirely in virtuous action. 
 That doctrine is as irreconcilable with suicide as any 
 Christian dogma. 
 
 'It was the comfort of Socrates that no evil can 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 297 
 
 befall a good man. Every Christian may say the same 
 thing, though the comfort he may draw from it will be 
 only in proportion as he is indeed a Christian. The 
 affirmation implies the converse — that evil will and 
 must befall the bad man. Hamlet is but half Christian 
 when he speaks of the fear of " something after death, 
 the undiscovered country," as the most effectual restraint 
 on the temptation to suicide, which would otherwise 
 be generally irresistible. But Socrates also expected 
 an interview with Minos and Rhadamanthus, to which 
 he indeed could look forward with positive pleasure, 
 because he should find them so unlike his Athenian 
 judges, but which must have been alarming to many 
 consciences, though few may have been distressed by 
 the thought of the torments reserved for such offenders 
 as Tantalus and Ixion. 
 
 ' That was a dreadfully precocious passion for suicide 
 that was exhibited by the child who courted death under 
 your carriage wheels. If it had been a young pagan, 
 Lecky could have made something of it. But what is 
 the real difference between your young hero and Cato ? 
 The child acted without reflection, and without any 
 apparent or intelligible motive. Cato acted deliberately, 
 and under a motive which is perfectly intelligible, 
 but essentially unphilosophical, vulgar, and childish. 
 The premeditation, which obtained so much admira- 
 tion for it, and which Lecky thinks so "grand," 
 deprives it of its only possible excuse. One can 
 sympathize with that which made life intolerable to 
 Prevost Paradol,^ but Cato did the cowardly act in cold 
 blood 
 
 1 ' Prevost Paradol was for many years energetically opposed to tlie 
 French Empire, but later on the Liberal programme of Emile Ollivier 
 
 13* 
 
298 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 ' I wonder that you have not received' your arrears 
 of the " Revue " down to the 1st of March. You should 
 immediately apply yourself to the " Chronique de la 
 Quinzaine," which exhibits the impression made on edu- 
 cated Frenchmen by the successive phases of the siege. 
 It has all the interest of a romance or a drama. 
 
 ' P. S. — I see I forgot to remark that there is no real 
 contrast between the view of death as a law and as 
 a punishment. The fathers, who believed it to be a 
 punishment, did not question that it was a law. The 
 law was the punishment.' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 27 March, 1871. 
 
 ' You have asked a question which seems to me to 
 betray some misapprehension on the subject of suicide. 
 You ask, " Did not the fathers view death as a law and 
 a punishment, the philosophers as a law only ? " Un- 
 doubtedly the philosophers did not ground their spec- 
 ulations on the Book of Genesis, whereas ■ the fathers 
 did. But there was no controversy between them and 
 the philosophers as to the origin of the law, concerning 
 which the philosophers did not pretend to know any- 
 thing, while the fathers believed that it had been di- 
 vinely revealed to them. But when the question is as 
 to the moral quality of suicide, I do not see how it can 
 be affected by any difference of views on the origin of 
 the law, while all parties acknowledge the fact of its 
 existence. 
 
 ' A week ago there was a notice in the " Spectator " 
 
 caused a change in his views, and led to his acceptance of the post of 
 Minister to the United States. When M. Paradol saw that the Liberal 
 professions were apparent and not real, and that he had committed 
 himself by too hasty an adhesion, it so preyed on his mind that he 
 destroyed himself in August 1870. 
 
LETTERS TO A FEIEND. 299 
 
 of an essay entitled " Euthanasia," in which the author 
 " maintains the thesis that it is lawful, and even expe- 
 dient, to put an end to the life which is manifestly 
 doomed to the sufferings of incurable disease." The 
 " Spectator " combats this thesis on ground which was 
 common to philosophers (of the best schools) and 
 Christians. 
 
 ' " The old belief," he says, " that a man may not 
 quit his post except at the bidding of his commander, 
 seems to us the expression of a noble and far-seeing wis- 
 dom." It is, at all events, a doctrine at once Christian 
 and philosophical 
 
 ' I do not at all wonder that wish that they 
 
 might join the deputation to the Pope. I should like 
 nothing better myself, provided that at the end of the 
 journey I was not obliged to be present at the interview. 
 But that is just the privilege which they think most 
 enviable. The only question is whether they could do 
 so, if they understood what this deputation really means, 
 especially with regard to its most distinguished mem- 
 bers. It is headed, I believe, by the Duke of Norfolk, 
 who is to be accompanied by several Roman Catholic 
 members of the House of Lords. I do not know what 
 is its precise object ; it may be simply to express their 
 wishes for the restoration of the temporal power. But 
 it cannot be supposed that they mean to ignore the new 
 attribute with which the Pope has been invested, or that 
 any one would join the deputation who did not heartily 
 accept that decree of the Council. Then observe these 
 two things : — 
 
 ' 1. The Duke of Norfolk and his Roman Catholic 
 compeers owe their seats in the House of Lords to the 
 solemn assurance given by all the English and Irish 
 
300 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 Bishops of their Church, that the dogma now proclaimed 
 was not a doctrine of the Church of Rome. Several of 
 the English and Irish members of the Council urged 
 this as a reason which made it impossible for them to 
 accept the dogma. The Duke of Norfolk, therefore, is 
 going to express his satisfaction at the discovery that 
 he is enjoying the fruits of this misrepresentation, and 
 that he holds his seat under and by virtue of false pre- 
 tences. Is that a really dignified or enviable position ? 
 Would not a man of honor feel that his first duty was to 
 resign a seat obtained by such means ? 
 
 ' But there is a still graver question connected with 
 this formal adhesion to the infallible Pope. 
 
 ' 2. Before the proclamation of this dogma, although 
 it used to be urged that men who only paid " a divided 
 allegiance " were not entitled to the full privileges of 
 British subjects, it was possible to believe the English 
 Roman Catholics when they professed to be loyal sub- 
 jects, good citizens, and sincerely attached to the in- 
 stitutions of their country. That has now ceased to 
 be possible with regard to any intelligent and con- 
 scientious members of their Church. Their allegiance 
 is no longer "divided," but is and must be due ex- 
 clusively to the Pope, who claims absolute power over 
 all persons and things, reserving entirely to his own 
 discretion the way in which he may think fit to exercise 
 it. No sincere and intelligent Roman Catholic can 
 now believe that he is bound by any law or any oath 
 which is at variance with these claims of the Infallible 
 Pope. In the meanwhile it is certain that there is not 
 a country on the face of the earth whose institutions are 
 so directly opposed to the principles laid down by the 
 Infallible Teacher in the Syllabus as those of Great 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 301 
 
 Britain. If tlie Pope knew anything of English his- 
 tory, he would say that the epoch which was the hap- 
 piest and most glorious for England was that in which 
 King John knelt before Pandulph to make himself the 
 Pope's tributary vassal. The subversion of our present 
 constitution ought to be the object which every faithful 
 Romanist proposes to himself. If there are any with 
 whom this is otherwise, it can only be the effect 
 of ignorance, thoughtlessness, and inconsistency. No 
 doubt the inconsistency is an amiable and honorable 
 one. It does credit to their natural feelings, which 
 rebel against the false teaching of their priests. But 
 it is not the less lamentable that this discordance be- 
 tween their principles and their practice should be the 
 only security they have to offer, and that in proportion 
 as they are good Catholics they must be bad, disloyal 
 citizens. 
 
 ' From all who really love our free institutions they 
 are now forever separated by an impassable gulf. The 
 Duke of Norfolk is going to pay his homage to the 
 author of this calamity. Will he be placing himself 
 in an enviable or honorable position ? Only in the eyes 
 of those who do not know what he is doing, which 
 I hope may be the case with himself. 
 
 ' Here I must break off. I must keep Mr. 's 
 
 letter until I send a word with it.' 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 28 March, 1871. 
 
 ' P. S. — Though I can very ill spare the time, I find 
 
 it impossible to return 's letter without a few 
 
 remarks. 
 
 'Even if I had not — though I believe I have — a 
 drop of Celtic blood in my veins, I should sympathize 
 
302 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 warmly with his patriotic feelings, and should think it 
 quite right as well as natural that he should draw com- 
 fort under the present miseries of his country — now 
 how much greater than when he wrote ! — from the 
 recollection of her past glories and the hope of a 
 brighter future. But no feeling can be durable which 
 is not founded on truth. Some one said, "Amicus 
 Plato, sed magis arnica Veritas," which some one else 
 translated, " Plato is my friend, but Truth is my sister." 
 It ought to be nearer and dearer than flesh and blood. 
 I fully admit the right of France to all the glory which 
 
 claims for her, as having first proclaimed "the 
 
 principles of 1789," though he alludes to them just 
 as he might have done if the interval between that 
 proclamation and the accession of Louis Napoleon had 
 been one in which France had been governed according 
 to those principles, altogether ignoring the Reign of 
 Terror, the first Empire, and the consequent constant 
 oscillation, which at last led to the general acceptance 
 of Louis Napoleon as the " Savior of Society." In fact, 
 during the more than eighty years which have elapsed 
 since the outbreak of the Revolution, there has not 
 been one in which France has enjoj'ed the blessing of a 
 stable government. When I consider this fact, and 
 compare the progress of Great Britain during the same 
 period, I find my admiration of the disembodied " prin- 
 ciples " a good deal abated ; and it seems to me that 
 much less depends on the principles themselves than 
 on the way they are applied. The ruffians who are 
 now triumphant in Paris no doubt consider their rule 
 as the only true development of the revolutionary prin- 
 ciples. 
 
 ' While I sympathize with France, I to a consider- 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 303 
 
 able extent share 's feelings towards the Prussians, 
 
 so far at least as to regard their present ascendency 
 and the temporary efEacement of France as a great 
 European calamity. To ourselves its first fruit has 
 been the humiliation of the disgraceful Conference ; ^ 
 and as I place no. reliance on the moderation either of 
 Bismark or bis Emperor, I fear that much more of the 
 same kind is to come. But still I cannot digest such 
 words as " Les barbares Germains." Coming from 
 such a man, they seem to me fearfully ominous — indica- 
 tive of a spirit which, as long as it prevails in France, 
 must preclude all hope of peace for Europe. The 
 Germans barbarians! In the last, " Chronique de la 
 Quinzaine " I read these words : " Disons le mot, si 
 cruel qu'il soit ; ce malheur de la France n'est point 
 I'ceuvre du hasard : cette victoire de nos ennemis c'est 
 le triomphe de I'ordre, de la discipline, de la suite dans 
 les id^es, de la science, de la m(5thode, sur la confusion, 
 la l^g^ret^, I'indiscipline, la suffisance et I'insuffisance.' 
 Yet these enemies are barbarians. And why? Ap- 
 parently, because they lack the " grand souffle philoso- 
 phique et moral," which is French property. But if 
 so, what other nation in Europe is not at least equally 
 barbarian ? And does not this point to the conclusion 
 that France may justly regard all other nations of the 
 earth in the same light as the Greeks did all foreigners, 
 whom they stigmatized with the same word which we 
 have borrowed from them ? Now I should not complain 
 of the French for cherishing the belief in their own 
 superiority over every other people if they did not 
 attempt to carry the belief into practice. But as the 
 
 1 'The Black Sea Conference was appointed to meet 3rd January, 
 1871, actually met January 17 in London, closed its sittings March 14. 
 
304 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 Greek philosopliers laid it down as a law of nature that 
 Greeks should govern, and, if they chose, enslave bar- 
 barians, so the French have shown a disposition to 
 consider themselves as the natural arbiters, regulators, 
 in short (for it comes to this), lords of Europe. If 
 Nicholas of Russia had the impudence to say that not 
 a gun should be fired in Europe without his leave, so 
 we heard a little before the war that some French 
 statesman — I forget on what occasion — had delivered 
 himself of the maxim, " Quand la France est satisfaite, 
 I'Europe est tranquille ; " in other words, " Europe 
 shall never be quiet as long as France has a wish un- 
 satisfied." That I believe to have been the feeling 
 which rendered the declaration of war popular in 
 France. And what am I to think of the elevation of 
 
 such a man as Thiers, with the approbation of ? 
 
 Of Thiers, the man on whom, next to the first Napoleon, 
 a larger share of responsibility for the war rests than 
 on any other ; the man who has done more than any 
 other to inflame the French lust for military glory, and 
 to direct the aim of the nation to the recovery of the 
 Rhenish Provinces ; the man who desired to prevent 
 the unification of Italy and of Germany only because it 
 was likely to stand in the way of French ascendency. 
 It is to the same feeling that I attribute the unfor- 
 tunate declaration of Jules Favre, that " France would 
 never yield an inch of her territory or a stone of her 
 fortresses." The Prussian terms are no doubt exor- 
 bitant, but they seem to be only a little less unreason- 
 able in an opposite direction ; and, if we would judge 
 them fairly, we must ti-y to put ourselves in the place 
 of the conquerors, who had triumphed over an un- 
 provoked aggression at an enormous cost of blood and 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 305 
 
 treasure, to say nothing of their recollections of French 
 moderation at Berlin. 
 
 ' There is an article in the last " Contemporary- 
 Review," " France and Prussia, by Professor Dowden," 
 
 which himself might have written, and which he 
 
 (or you) would read with immense pleasure. I agree 
 with it "tout en gardant des nuances et des reserves 
 sur tel ou tel point." ' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 4 April, 1871. 
 
 ' I perfectly understood that when you asked whether 
 it is not the fact, " that to the philosophers death was 
 only a law, while to the fathers it was not only a law 
 but a punishment," you did not mean suicide, but 
 natural death. I am only at a loss to conceive how the 
 other meaning could have occurred to me, and what 
 could have led you to think it possible that it should 
 have done so. 
 
 ' But I am still more puzzled by your new question, 
 which seems to imply some misapprehension of my 
 meaning, and also to involve some very strange para- 
 doxes of which you seem to be quite unconscious. 
 
 ' You ask, " Why should death — except the manner 
 of it — be considered a punishment at all when it leads 
 us to better things, to a somewhere without pain, or 
 perplexity, or sin ? " I hope, though I cannot • help 
 feeling a strong misgiving to the contrary, that you do 
 not imagine that anything I have said on the subject 
 depends in the slightest degree on the question whether 
 death is rightly considered as a punishment. But 
 putting this aside, I see that you have worded your 
 question so that it admits of two widely different senses, 
 according to the meaning of your " when." For that 
 
 20 
 
306 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 may signify either whereas, and so would assume that 
 in all cases death leads us to better things, or it may 
 signify whenever, i. e. be the cases many or few in which 
 it does so. In the first sense the assumption is won- 
 derfully bold, especially when made as if it were a self- 
 evident truth. 
 
 ' Taken in the other sense, the question is, perhaps, 
 a little less paradoxical, but still the reasons why death 
 may be considered as a punishment even in such a case 
 are so obvious that they can only be kept out of sight 
 by an extraordinary effort of abstraction. 
 
 ' How does it follow that death is not a punishment 
 because it leads to better things? Suppose a man de- 
 sires to reach some pleasant field lying on the other 
 side of a stream which is crossed by a good bridge. If 
 he is prevented from going over the bridge, and forced 
 to take to the water, may not that be considered as a 
 punishment ? If an invalid, subject to sea-sickness, is 
 compelled to take a voyage to Madeira because he is 
 debarred from the use of a medicine or from change of 
 air, which would have effected his cure at home, is not 
 that in the nature of a punishment ? Is it a sufficient 
 consolation to the mother of a young emigrant, under 
 the anguish of parting, to believe that he is going to 
 make his fortune at the antipodes, and would she not 
 consider it as a punishment if he was debarred from 
 an equally profitable employment in his own country ? 
 Is human life in general such a scene of unmitigated 
 misery that every one should be anxious to hurry out 
 of it with the certainty of being a gainer by the change 
 of state ? And are the ties which bind us to earthly 
 relatives and friends so slight that they may be severed 
 without any touch of pain ? 
 
LETTERS TO A FEIEND. 3O7 
 
 ' Surely these are monstrous paradoxes against which 
 the common sense of mankind revolts 
 
 ' If we were quite sure that death is nothing worse 
 than a forcible interruption of a development, which 
 would otherwise have been continuous, it would still be 
 in the nature of a punishment if considered as an ordi- 
 nance at all. But when we neither have nor can have 
 any such assurance, how can we look upon it as an 
 unalloyed blessing? Can a condition in which it is 
 welcome as such be any other than one of intolerable 
 desperate misery? 
 
 ' I had intended to say a word on the Roman ques- 
 tion, but this I must defer to another time. 
 
 ' I envy Mr. Perowne still more than the Duke of 
 Norfolk and his companions ' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 5 April, 1871. 
 
 ' P. S. — I have no doubt that what you say about the 
 happy unconsciousness of the Duke of Norfolk is per- 
 fectly true, and also that the same is the case with the 
 great majotity of English Romanists. 
 
 ' This ignorance is indeed their bliss ; and it would 
 be cruelty to open their eyes to the truth, if it was 
 not that their blindness leaves them at the mercy of 
 treacherous guides. Unfortunately it is but too certain 
 that among educated English Protestants hardly one 
 in a thousand is better informed, and has ever realized 
 the meaning and importance of the decree or definition of 
 Papal Infallibility. Most people fancy that it is a mere 
 theological dogma, which, however extravagant in itself, 
 can have no practical effect on the affairs of mankind. 
 It was very unlucky that the promulgation coincided 
 with the outbreak of the war, which of course engrossed 
 
308 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 every one'3 attention ; and any one who had said that 
 the decree was the more momentous event of the 
 two would have been thought to have lost his senses. 
 Yet it is certain that the decree affects the interests 
 of a much larger portion of mankind, and must con- 
 tinue to do so for a much longer time. I wonder 
 whether you have ever considered its retrospective 
 action ? 
 
 'Are you aware that its effect, as regards the past, 
 is that there has never been any pretension to universal 
 absolute sovereignty put forward in any papal bull that 
 has not now become a part of the doctrine of the 
 Roman Catholic Church, just as binding on the con- 
 sciences of all its members under penalty of eternal 
 perdition as any part of the Apostles' Creed? One 
 corollary from this proposition is that, in the eyes of 
 the Pope, and consequently of every consistent Roman 
 Catholic, our Queen, and every heretical sovereign, is a 
 mere usurper, who has no right to the crown, and that 
 a Roman Catholic, who, having the means and the 
 opportunities, fails to do whatever he can toward put- 
 ting her down, or forcing her to submit to the Pope, is 
 guilty of mortal sin. Even an orthodox sovereign who 
 willingly tolerates the exercise of any heterodox wor- 
 ship, or refuses to exterminate all heretics within his 
 dominions, incurs the like condemnation. Do not sup- 
 pose that there is the slightest exaggeration in this. 
 When Antonelli, who himself was perfectly aware of 
 the truth, was pressed by the French and Austrian 
 Ministers with this objection to the decree, all he could 
 say was that they need not make themselves uneasy ; 
 all that the Pope wanted was the recognition of his 
 right; but this being once admitted, he would exercise 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 309 
 
 the utmost discretion and. lenity in the use of his power. 
 That was the best comfort he could afford. 
 
 ' There are circumstances within the range of possi- 
 bility in which the most thoughtless might be led to 
 feel the gravity of the question in its bearing on our 
 own affairs. Everybody knows that the Church of 
 England may any day be disestablished. Some think 
 that it certainly will, and that it is only a question 
 of time, and that a short one. Supposing .this event 
 to happen, I apprehend that the obligation of the sov- 
 ereign to be a member of the Church of England must 
 cease. 
 
 ' And there would arise the question whether he 
 might not be a member of the Church of Rome. This 
 has now become identical with the question whether 
 the throne may be filled by one who acknowledges him- 
 self to be the Pope's subject in all matters spiritual and 
 temporal. That, I think, must be admitted to be a 
 practical question. If the parties were pretty evenly 
 balanced, it might easily give occasion to the fiercest of 
 civil wars. 
 
 ' Every Roman Catholic is now bound to believe 
 that the proceedings of the Inquisition, having been 
 repeatedly and constantly hallowed by the sanction and 
 explicit injunctions of the Popes, are in perfect har- 
 mony with the principles of natural equity and with 
 the teaching of the gospel, and that they afford a per- 
 fect model for our imitation. The proceedings against 
 witches, in which so many thousands of lives were 
 sacrificed to what is now very generally believed to be 
 a delusion, received the like sanction, and it has thus 
 become matter of faith that instead of a delusion it is a 
 fact as certain as any truth of the gospel. 
 
310 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ' It is, indeed, much to be hoped that the Duke of 
 Norfolk and his party are profoundly ignorant of the 
 tenets to which they are pledged. Probably their chief 
 object is to express their veneration for the Pope and 
 their sympathy with his misfortunes. 
 
 ' But here again it is to, be hoped that they do not 
 suspect how sadly their veneration and sympathy are 
 misplaced. The Pope himself no longer stands in the 
 position which he occupied in general estimation before 
 the Council. Though he has gained his object, his 
 , character as a man has been irreparably damaged by 
 'his behavior during the session of the Council. Pre- 
 viously he had been, I think, rather a favorite with 
 Protestants. They liked to be presented to him, and 
 ; spoke of him as an amiable, excellent person, some even 
 I as "saintly." Intellectually, indeed, he has always stood 
 very low. 
 
 ' Though no Pope for many centuries has introduced 
 so many new definitions of doctrines, few have ever 
 been so ignorant of theology. It was only through 
 family interest that he passed his examination for holy 
 orders. If he had not been a Mastai, the future in- 
 fallible doctor would have been plucked. And he has 
 never had need to study theology since he became Pope, 
 for he has lived in the constant belief that he enjoys 
 a special inspiration of the Virgin Mary, which more 
 than supplies the place of study. At the time when 
 the question of tradition was under discussion, and the 
 bishops of the minority were urging the contradiction 
 between the new dogma and the tradition of the 
 Church, he repeatedly affirmed " La tradizione son io." 
 This reminds me of Louis XIV.'s celebrated "L'Etat, 
 c'est moi," but it goes far beyond that. For what it 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 311 
 
 means is that it depended upon his pleasure whether 
 a thing had happened or not. When to this is added 
 that he was in the habit of saying that he felt his own 
 infallibility, it must be owned that in him ignorance 
 and superstition are combined in a degree rarely 
 equalled But still he might have been an ami- 
 able, excellent man. Unfortunately, in his passionate 
 anxiety to carry his object, he cast aw^y all restraints 
 of decency, self-respect, and common humanity, treating 
 the bishops of the opposition as his personal enemies 
 
 with a tyranny verging upon brutality 
 
 ' My P. S. has become a volume.' 
 
 'Abekgwili Palace, 10 April, 1871. 
 ' . . . . No doubt the Pope does not pretend to be 
 sinless; on the contrary, he is rather fond of publicly 
 owning himself to be (like Peter) " a sinful man," as if 
 in answer to those who pretend that sinfulness excludes 
 infallibility, whereas he professes to be equally conscious 
 of both. If he was incapable of sin why should he need 
 a confessor ? Nor again does he pretend to be infallible 
 in all matters. He would freely admit that he might 
 mistake a false diamond for a true one and the like. 
 But what he asserts is that, in his capacity of Pope, 
 or supreme Doctor of the Church, he speaks with the 
 infallibility of Divine inspiration on every question of 
 faith and morals; and the latter head includes every 
 conceivable relation of public and private life, every- 
 thing that in any way concerns the State and the 
 family, and, observe, he is the supreme infallible judge 
 as to what does or does not concern them ; so that no 
 such question can be exempt from his absolute juris- 
 diction. 
 
312 BISHOP THIRL WALL'S 
 
 'Now, under the recent decree, no one can dispute 
 or attempt to narrow this claim, either in the abstract 
 or in its practical application, without peril of eternal 
 perdition. 
 
 ' Do not imagine that these are points in debate 
 only between Romanists and Protestants, in which, 
 therefore, the latter may be misled by prejudice or ig- 
 norance. Romanists are, indeed, now divided among 
 themselves as to the Pope's right to the infallibility 
 which he claims, but there is no dispute among them 
 as to the extent of the authority with which he is in- 
 vested by it if it really belongs to him. How glad 
 Antonelli would have been if, instead of comforting the 
 foreign ministers with the hope that the PontifE would 
 wield his authority mildly, he had been able to assure 
 them that they were mistaken as to its nature, and 
 that it did not reach to temporal concerns. 
 
 'I wish I could get you to read a work called 
 " Quirinus." It is a series of letters written from 
 Rome by a German Roman Catholic who was present 
 from the opening to the end of the Council, and in con- 
 stant intimate communication with a great many of its 
 most distinguished members. They were first published 
 in a German newspaper, and have since been collected 
 in a little volume. I found them most delicious read- 
 ing. They have been translated into English, probably 
 by the translator of " Janus ; " and, if so, very well. 
 Unless they were quite spoiled in the translation I feel 
 sure that you would enjoy them very much ; and when 
 you have read them you will no longer be at the mercy 
 of Manning's organs.' ^ 
 
 » ' 7 June, 1871. 
 
 '. . . . It ig Roman Catholic theologians who have made the "fuss" 
 ahout the Infallibility decree. No Protestant can add anything to that 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 313 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 22 April, 1871. 
 
 ' P. S. — I am very thankful for the geological com- 
 munication, though I am not sufficiently acquainted 
 with recent theories on the subject of the red sand- 
 stone fully to appreciate the effect of Mr. Ramsay's 
 observation — which is equivalent to a discovery — on 
 the views now generally prevalent. But what he says 
 about the coal treasures is a great comfort to me. But 
 is there not still a question about the expense of work- 
 ing at great depths'? 
 
 'Nobody can be more interested in the correctness 
 of Dr. 's views on reading than myself. 
 
 ' My practice is quite the reverse of his. My read- 
 ing covers a pretty large area, but at many points is 
 very superficial, and, therefore, I am not an impartial 
 judge. I cannot, however, assent, to his opinion — as 
 you state it. But if the maxim, runs, " Better read one 
 
 which Dbllinger, v. Schulte, and Froschammer have written. None have 
 had such strong motives for a thorough investigation of the subject, and 
 very few sufficient learning for the task.' 
 
 ' 2 Aug., 1871. 
 
 ' .... I observed a letter from Rome in the " Pall Mall," giving an 
 account of an allocution addressed by the Pope to I forget exactly what 
 audience, in which he betrayed a most wonderful ignorance ou the sub- 
 ject of his own infallibility. He explained to his hearers that it was 
 a mistake to suppose that his power resulted from his infallibility, and 
 was not based on the authority vested in him as the Vicar of Christ. 
 He evidently was not aware that nobody had ever made this mistake, 
 but that the connection between his claim to infallibility and his claim 
 to universal dominion was that he could not claim infallibility for him- 
 self without attributing it to his predecessors, and therefore, among oth- 
 ers, to Boniface VIII., in the most extravagant of all his pretensions. 
 
 '. . . . A man is only half a Roman Catholic who has not a 
 spiritual director, and less than half if he does not conform to that 
 
 direction ' 
 
 14 
 
314 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 good book eight times than many once," I should need 
 to know something more about the many. Are they 
 supposed to be also good, ? And if so, on the same or 
 different subjects? I should quite agree that it is 
 better to study one good book on any subject accurately 
 than to hurry through many, even though equally good, 
 on the same subject. But if, after I had read one book 
 seven times, the question was whether I should give it 
 an eighth reading or should skim over the work of 
 another writer, though of inferior merit, on the same 
 subject, I should have no doubt that my knowledge of 
 the subject and my capacity of judging would be more 
 enlarged by a hasty perusal of the new book, and that 
 I should understand the first better than if I read it 
 again. I suspect that a man of one or very few books 
 may be familiar with their contents, but be little the 
 better for them for want of means of comparing dif- 
 ferent views with one another. 
 
 ' A person who was a very gi-eat reader and hard 
 thinker told me that he never took up a book except 
 with the view of making himself master of some subject 
 which he was studying, and that while he was so en- 
 gaged he made all his reading converge to that point. 
 In this way he might read parts of many books, but not 
 a single one "from end to end." This I take to be 
 an excellent method of study, but one which implies 
 the command of many books as well as of much leisure. 
 
 ' It must, however, be remembered that superjidal 
 is a relative term. There is hardly a department, how- 
 ever narrow, in the whole range of human knowledge"" 
 that is not absolutely unfathomable and inexhaustible, 
 and its chief adepts would be the first to own or pro- 
 claim that no hupian life is long enough to make any 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 3I5 
 
 one completely master of it. This holds not only with 
 regard to the higher ologies — theology, philology, 
 physiology, geology, zoology, &c. — but even to their 
 minutest ramifications. Lives, I believe, have been 
 spent and may be spent on such pursuits as numis- 
 matics and heraldry, which are branches of history, 
 and involve a great extent of historical reading ; but I 
 also believe that the same may be said of some of the 
 minutest compartments of animal and vegetable life. 
 The study can never' be exhausted. But would a life 
 be well spent in the acquisition of a relatively profound 
 knowledge of beetles or grasses, or coins or blazonry, to 
 the exclusion of everything else ? 
 
 ' Yet I think Dr. 's theory logically leads to 
 
 this. 
 
 ' Miss naturally looks at the question from the 
 
 standpoint (as Germans say) of her own art. She does 
 not set much value on facts: How should she when she 
 knows how easily they are made, having spent the best 
 part of her life in making them ? (A poet, you know, 
 is literally a maker.') As a moral philosopher (which 
 is her proper profession) she makes little account of 
 anything but the "condition of mind which results 
 from reading," which she evidently thinks depends very 
 little on facts. This is perfectly true as to the moral 
 condition or bent of the will, but seems very question- 
 able as to the intellectual condition or possession of 
 knowledge. 
 
 ' I believe that nothing is forgotten, so that the re- 
 membrance of it may not be revived. How often do 
 scenes and words of more than sixty years ago recur to 
 my mind with the vividness of impressions- of yesterday ! 
 
 ' Was it not Admiral Beaufort who was once very 
 
316 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 nearly drowned, and while under water had a vision of 
 his whole past life in all its details ? ^ 
 
 ' My guests have just left for Cheltenham, and I am 
 in the agony of preparation for my own departure.' 
 
 'Abebgwili Palace, 1871. Undated. 
 
 ' .... I am quite surprised that should not 
 
 have heard of the scribble (which has a technical name I 
 cannot now recollect). I thought it had been familiar to 
 every one who took an interest in archasology. 
 
 ' It was discovered, I am pretty sure, on a wall of a 
 barrack at Pompeii, and is evidently the production of 
 a soldier, and specially designed to ridicule a Christian 
 comrade, as the rough drawing or scratching bears a 
 Greek inscription 'AXe^a/juevov 0e6<; = the god of Alex- 
 amSnes. I believe that it has been published repeatedly, 
 and, if I am not mistaken, in the " Transactions " of the 
 Royal Society of Literature.^ 
 
 ' . . . . When you tell me that " metaphysics seems 
 to be the only science at a stand-still," are you aware 
 that I am myself a member of a Metaphysical Society, 
 which meets once a month in the first half of the year, 
 to (dine and) hear and discuss a paper on some meta- 
 physical question ? 
 
 ' It includes among its members a number of very 
 distinguished persons — among whom are Gladstone 
 
 1 Appendix H. 
 
 ^ 'A rude drawing lately discovered on the wall of a vault (the 
 cell of a slave, one of Oassar's household) on the Palatine, which repre- 
 sents this jackal-headed iiguve (the god Anubis) nailed to the cross, 
 with the inscription AAeSAMGNOG CeB6Te eeON; in reality, the 
 work of some pious gnostic, but which is usually looked upon as a 
 heathen blasphemy, because the jackal's head is taken fqr that of an 
 ass.' — The OnosHcs and their Remains. C. W. King, M.A., 1864. 
 
LETTERS T.0 A FRIEND. 3I7 
 
 > 
 and the Dute of Argyll. The papers are printed and 
 circulated among the members, and begin to form a 
 little volume. Among the contributors have been 
 Archbishop Huxley and Professor Manning. It has 
 so happened that I have neveF yefc' been able to attend 
 a dinner of the society. But I purpose doing so next 
 Tuesday, when a paper is to be read by Ruskin on 
 "Intelligence proportioned to rank in animated life." 
 I am inclined to think that as much study is spent on 
 metaphysics as at any former period, and with at least 
 equal success ' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Steeet, 8 May, 1871. 
 
 'I duly received all your letters, which, if anything 
 could compensate for the beauties of the spring, which 
 I have lost, would have done so. You will perhaps not 
 be much surprised that I was wholly unable to answer 
 them, if you -consider that the work of the O. T. Re- 
 vision Company absorbs between six and seven hours 
 of every day, so that it is very difficult to make the 
 fragments of time which remain suffice for the most 
 indispensable business. 
 
 ' I attended the dinner of the Metaphysical Society 
 on the 25th inst. There were present, besides Ruskin, 
 Huxley, and Manning, the editors of the " Spectator " 
 and the " Contemporary Review," Dr. Carpenter, Mr. 
 Russell, M.P., Ward, the Bishop of Gloucester, and 
 Frederick Harrison. Like the Cardinal in " Lothair," 
 Manning sat all dinner-time before an empty plate, 
 entirely occupied in conversation with Fred. Harrison. 
 
 ' Ruskin read his paper, which was highly charac- 
 teristic, with, I thought, a little touch of mannerism. 
 A good many blots were found in it. It was assailed 
 
318 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 at one end by Manning (whom I heard very imper- 
 fectly), and at the other (the physiological) by Dr. 
 Carpenter. I do not think it likely that you will ever 
 see the papers collected in a volume, though one, by 
 Manning, " On the Relation of the Will to Thought," 
 has been published in the " Contemporary Review." 
 You need not apologize for having spoken disre- 
 spectfully of metaphysics — that is, of English meta- 
 physics. When you said they were at a " stand-still," 
 you said no more than the Germans and the French 
 have been saying for a century I do not ad- 
 mit the fact, though there was an interval, after the 
 close of the Scotch school, during which the study 
 might be said to be stagnant. But in the last genera- 
 tion there has been — whether happily or otherwise — 
 a great styrring of metaphysical activity ; and I agree 
 with the Germans and the French in the opinion that 
 its cessation would imply a very low state of intellectual 
 culture. I have always considered the problems of 
 metaphysics as at once the highest and the most im- 
 portant and practical of all to which the human mind 
 can apply itself. But no doubt this assumes that it is 
 of some importance to a man to have some principles 
 of belief and practice, and that there is a difference 
 between truth and falsehood, right and wrong, which is 
 worth while to inquire about. That the study is beset 
 with great difficulties does not seem to me to prove 
 that it is worthless, but only that it must always be 
 confined to a few thinkers. It must, however, be 
 remembered that all men are metaphysicians, all, in 
 every action of their lives, are governed by meta- 
 physical beliefs, and that the only difference between 
 one and another is, that the great mass are wholly 
 
LETTERS TO A FKIEND. 319 
 
 unconscious of the origin and ground of the opinions 
 which they have received through tradition, while a 
 few understand what they hold and why they hold it, 
 and to these it is given to sway the opinions of others ; 
 for infinite good or evil ' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 15 May, 1871. 
 
 ' - . .' . It was absolutely impossible for Socrates or 
 Plato so much as to conceive the nature of the problems 
 which now occupy the minds of metaphysicians through 
 their ignorance of physiology. They might have been 
 able to understand the leading propositions in Man- 
 ning's paper on the " Relation of the Will to Thought ; " 
 but Dr. Carpenter's article in the " Contemporary " on 
 the " Physiology of the Will " would have opened to 
 them a new world, in which they would have felt them- 
 selves dazed and helpless as infants 
 
 ' If it was once resolved to admit ladies into the 
 Metaphysical Society, I am sure that Miss Cobbe would 
 be elected by acclamation. But I do not know whether 
 she would like to be the only lady, or how many could 
 be found like her.' 
 
 'Abebgwilt Palace, 17 Majy, 1871. 
 ' .... I never saw the " Westminster Gazette," 
 and the specimen you give of it does not tempt me to 
 become better acquainted with it. Though I believe 
 it is Manning's organ, it does not seem to be designed 
 for a very high class of readers. It would appear from 
 your extract that the writer of the letter you quote 
 imagined that he was saying something not generally 
 known or understood when he remarked that " it is 
 ex-cathedra pontifical decrees on faith and morals, not 
 
320 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 particular acts of Popes, that are binding on the con- 
 sciences of Catholics." 
 
 ' How many may be ignorant of this it is, of course, 
 impossible for me to say ; but it is certain that it was 
 never denied by any one who knew the meaning of the 
 words, and that it is a general statement, which leaves 
 every objection to the dogma of Papal infallibility just 
 where it was. The most atrocious of all the sayings 
 and doings of the Popes are those which are most 
 clearly stamped with the character of ex-cathedra dec- 
 larations. It was ex-cathedra, and with all the so- 
 lemnity that could be imparted to a pontifical decree, 
 that Boniface VIII. declared it " necessary to salvation 
 for every human creature that he should be subject to 
 the Pope." It was ex-cathedra that Alexander VI. and 
 Nicholas VI. claimed (and exercised) the right of giving 
 away America and Africa to the Kings of Spain and 
 Portugal, and Hadrian IV. that of bestowing Ireland as 
 a fief on our Henry II. It was ex-cathedra that pope 
 after pope claimed the right of deposing kings and 
 releasing their subjects from their oath of obedience. 
 It was ex-cathedra that Urban II. pronounced that the 
 killing of an excommunicated person was not a murder, 
 but at the worst an offence to be expiated by a penance. 
 It was ex-cathedra that Innocent IV. extended the pen- 
 alties of heresy to all aiders and abettors of heretics, 
 and to their children and children's children. This, 
 observe by the way, is one of the most odious and 
 iniquitous features in the procedure of the Inquisition 
 — worse than the brutal ferocity of its tortures — and 
 which this Pope proclaimed to be just and right. The 
 ex-cathedra dodge has been fully exposed in a work 
 which, unfortunately, you cannot read, being in Ger- 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 321 
 
 man, by v. Schulte, professor of canon law in the uni- 
 versity of Prague, a zealous Roman Catholic. 
 
 '. The writer in the " Westminster Gazette " has, I 
 see, dwelt much on the tu quoque argument. Did not 
 Protestants also commit judicial murders on witches 
 and heretics ? No doubt they did, and they may con- 
 fess it, not indeed wholly without shame, as regards 
 themselves, but quite so as regards their Roman Cath- 
 olic accusers. It is true they inherited the delusion 
 about witchcraft which had been handed down to them 
 from the dark ages ; but by degrees they shook it off, 
 and it has been long universally exploded among them ; 
 while the writer in the " Westminster Gazette," who 
 reproaches them with it, himself adheres to it, and de- 
 fends it, as f warranted by Scripture and tradition." 
 
 ' Still less have Protestants any need to cry for 
 mercy on account of their share in the guilt of religious 
 persecution as against Romanists. They must lament 
 it deeply in itself, and acknowledge its criminal ab- 
 surdity. But they may fairly say that by far the 
 greater part of the responsibility rests, not with them, 
 but with the Popes, who for a series of ages inculcated 
 the duty of religious persecution by their doctrine and 
 example, and imbued the mind and heart of Christen- 
 dom with a taint from which it could but slowly 
 recover. Here again the difference between Romanists 
 and Protestants is, that while the latter unanimously 
 profess to abhor persecution, and commonly do so, the 
 Papal Church to this hour condemns religious tolera- 
 tion as a sin ' 
 
 14* 
 
322 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 7 June, 1871. 
 ' .... I read Miss Cobbe's article in " Macmillan " 
 with great pleasure.^ I do not know how to answer 
 your question about moral sense in sleep. But it 
 strikes me that I can remember dreams in which there 
 was some exercise of moral judgment. I am afraid 
 there lies at the bottom of every human nature some- 
 thing which will not bear being brought up to the top 
 
 and exposed to the light 
 
 ' I belieye has a theory that the use of the 
 
 cross as a symbol was of late introduction. My own 
 impression as to that is the other way. But I do not 
 think that the caricature of the Crucified One makes 
 one way or the other. I do not see that it was meant 
 to ridicule the respect felt by Christians for the Cross. 
 It was only levelled at the person who hung upon it. 
 
 ' I follow the Tichborne case with some interest, but, 
 unluckily, I did not attend to it in its earlier stages, 
 and have not a clear idea of the story. One thing only 
 seems evident, that the Claimant is a wretched animal, 
 and that, unless the defendant is quite a monster, it is 
 most desirable for the interests of society that he should 
 gain his cause. I have no notion who it is that backs 
 the other, or how his expenses are to be paid if he loses. 
 ' I must not say a word about Paris. It is too hid- 
 eous and tragical, and big with an endless succession of 
 like evils. 
 
 '^0 iriend of an Angola kitten would bring it 
 within reach of my lion, who is a lamb when unpro- 
 voked, but would not bear the sight of a rival. The 
 house, mow so quiet, would become a scene of swearing, 
 
 1 'Xtnoonsoious Cerebration : a Psychological Study.' Nov., 1870. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 323 
 
 cattering, and wauling. I prefer a really good tabby to 
 all Angolas, and to everything else but a tortoise-shell, 
 which, in its perfection, is the rarest of all. I once had 
 one which was absolutely faultless, and as amiable as 
 it was beautiful. The dear creature was killed by a 
 monster of a dog who came into the house during 
 church-time ' 
 
 ' Abergwili PALA.CB, 22 Jvme, 1871. 
 ' .... I am scratching this in a desperate hurry 
 and flurry of preparation for my approaching departure. 
 For the first time in my life I am sorry that I am 
 not in London. I have been asked to attend Grote's 
 funeral, which is to take place on Saturday in West- 
 minster Abbey, and I should certainly have gone up to- 
 morrow for the purpose if I had not been engaged to 
 preach at the Training College. Grote was, I think, 
 the oldest friend I had left. He was a little my senior 
 at school. His intellectual greatness was brought out 
 in higher relief to those who knew the man by the sim- 
 plicity and amiableness of his character. The last time 
 I saw him was at dinner at the Dean of Westminster's, 
 where Dickens also was present. On a former occasion 
 I remember his telling me how earnestly he hoped that 
 he might not survive his capacity for work. If he had 
 but lived as long as he was able to work he would most 
 likely have survived all his contemporaries.' ^ 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 13 July, 1871. 
 ' . . . . The eve of my departure was spent at the 
 Metaphysical Club, where I met Tennyson after an 
 interval of some forty years. We had a learned paper 
 
 1 Bishop Thirlwall was buried in Grote's grave, % Aug., 1875. 
 
324 BISHOP THIKLWALL'S 
 
 from the Bishop of Gloucester, on the interesting 
 question, "What is Death?" Manning was again 
 the chief speaker, and I left him engaged in a duel 
 with Huxley, the one maintaining, the other denying, 
 the possibility of a purely scientific demonstration of 
 the immortality of the soul.' 
 
 'Abbegwili Palace, 2] July, 1871. 
 
 ' . . . . The Bishop of Gloucester's paper was his- 
 torical and critical. He did not give any definition of 
 his own, but gave a lucid account of three hypotheses 
 which he believed exhausted the variety of opinions on 
 the subject, without however attempting to show that 
 there could be no fourth, which some thought possible. 
 He criticised them all fairly enough, but intimated his 
 preference for one, which is probably that which would 
 most commend itself to you : as it lies at the bottom of 
 all ghost stories. ' 
 
 ' I am not able to say whether Tennyson spoke or 
 not, much less to report what he said or how he said it. 
 I was at one end of the table on the same side with 
 him, and he near the other end. I heard a voice speak- 
 ing thereabouts, but could not make out the words or 
 from whom they came. 
 
 ' I do not think that Gladstone has ever believed in 
 the necessity of any military defences, but like Cobden 
 thinks it will be time enough to arm when the enemy 
 comes in sight. I do not like staking everything we 
 have upon that chance, though I am much less uneasy 
 than I should have been if France had been victorious, 
 and we had to rely on the friendship of Louis Napoleon. 
 
 ' If you should ever have occasion to send for some 
 light readings order a Memoir of Young, the actor, by 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 325 
 
 his son. It is full of amusing anecdotes, including a 
 number of clairvoyance and ghost stories. Young was 
 one of the theatrical idols of my boyhood, when the re- 
 vival of "Julius Caesar" produced an immense sensation. 
 The next time I saw him was at dinner at Lady Hol- 
 land's, where I remember Sydney Smith observing : " I 
 would much rather be listening to you, Mr. Young, 
 than to the lowing of oxen or the bleating of sheep." 
 Young thanked him, being, as his son says, like Sydney 
 of the street, streety, and a hater of green lanes.' 
 
 •Abergwili Palace, 2 Aug., 1871. 
 
 ' - ... I think that Young was of the Kemble 
 school, though with more ease and nature, coming 
 nearer to Talma. But he had nothing in common with 
 Kean. As between him and the Kembles, he was 
 decidedly one of tkem. 
 
 ' Instead of taking it for granted that I must have 
 read already all that you read, you may very safely take 
 it for granted that of whatever new books fall in your 
 way I have read none or nothing but the title-page. 
 
 ' The time is rapidly approaching when my reading 
 will be absolutely confined to books relating to my work. 
 As it is, I have scarcely time to dip in the most super- 
 ficial manner into periodicals. I cannot allow more 
 than about ten minutes to the dailies. It is rather a 
 comfort to me to observe that the " Revue " now contains 
 so little that is generally interesting, being almost en- 
 tirely devoted to the French questions of the day. It 
 is very sad to find myself deprived for the rest of my 
 life of my chief source of enjoyment ' 
 
326 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 12 Aug., 1871. 
 
 ' .... I do not understand what you saw to alarm 
 you in the color of my ink. I remember noticing it 
 myself and fancying that red ink had been bought by 
 mistake. But I was assured that it was the ordinary- 
 color of all fresh ink. I now see that it was not fresh 
 but bad. But again I ask why should you have been 
 alarmed? Did you think that I had breathed a vein 
 for the purpose of replenishing my inkhorn ? That 
 would have been gallant, but would not have suited my 
 time of life, when I have no superfluous blood to spare. 
 
 ' I suffer the torments of Tantalus every time I enter 
 Chaos, but not because I have no time for new English 
 vforks, so much as for the other literatures, ancient and 
 modern, which spread their stores before me in vain. 
 This reminds me of a piece of information which I 
 ought not to withhold from you. You expressed curiosity 
 about the proceedings of the Metaphysical Club. Al- 
 most all the papers which, have been read there have 
 been published in the " Contemporary Review," the 
 only monthly which does not tell tales ^ and therefore 
 will never be popular — the editor being the founder 
 of the club. The last number contains the Bishop of 
 Gloucester's " What is Death ? " and a very interesting 
 fragment by the late Professor Grote — the historian's 
 brother — on a future state ' 
 
 'Abekgwili Palace, 17 Aug., 1871. 
 
 ' . . . . You should not tantalize me with ideas of 
 
 " Earthly Paradise," or the like reading under trees. I 
 
 shall never taste the luxury of an idyll again. But you 
 
 must not expend all your hate on the Revision. That 
 
 1 Novels. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 327 
 
 is only one of the things which afford constant and 
 inexhaustible occupation for every hour of the day. 
 Some time ago in an evil hour I consented to lend some 
 co-operation to the Speaker's Commentary, and now I 
 find that this begins to weigh very heavily upon 
 me ' 
 
 ' Abbegwili Palace, 21 Sept., 1871. 
 
 ' I had been informed of your benevolent and pious 
 undertaking by two gigantic yellow bills. I do not 
 know whether you are aware that, at the time your 
 concert is to begin, I shall just have arrived in London 
 to resume the labors of a fortnight's session with the 
 Old Testament Revision Company. You may depend 
 upon it that you will be uppermost in my thoughts, and 
 that I shall be envying your fortunate hearers. Why 
 
 the presence of Mr. , or of Saint Cecilia herself, 
 
 should make you nervous, I cannot conceive. Surely 
 you ought to be glad to be heard by those who are best 
 able to appreciate good music. 
 
 'I am surrounded by an unusually strong legion 
 of candidates, and have only time to thank yoii for 
 Idrisyn's Translation.^ I have never read the original. 
 .... But the translation will help to beguile the 
 journey to London ' 
 
 ' 1 Regent Stkeet, 3 Oc^., 1871. 
 ' I congratulate you on the success of your concerts. 
 
 I wish Mr. had beeit there to hear, and sing. 
 
 Your description, coupled with my recollections of the 
 room at Tenby, enabled me to realize the appearance of 
 the C concert room. I think the Welsh must have 
 
 1 Translation into Welsh of A Trap to Catch a Sunbeam, by the 
 Eev. John Jones (Idrisyn), the Welsh translator of the Queen's Journal. 
 
328 BISHOP THIULWALL'S 
 
 a special gift for this kind of ornamentation I 
 
 Lave received a most unexpected honor. I have been 
 nominated by the Council of the Royal Academy to 
 succeed Grote as an honorary member of the Society. 
 As I think you like to see ipsissima verba, I enclose Sir 
 Francis Grant's letter. It is in every way a gratifying 
 
 privilege ' 
 
 • Abbrgwili Palace, 11 Dec, 1871. 
 ' . . . . The loss of the Prince of Wales would be a 
 most serious national calamity. It is also to me sad to 
 think of his being cut off in the prime of life and the 
 fulness of all the gifts of fortune. I hear he is very 
 much beloved by all who know him ' 
 
 '16 Dec., 1871. 
 
 ' .... In your list of long-lived people, how came 
 you to omit Dr. Routh of Magdalen, and Sir Moses 
 Montefiore, who, though 86 (or 88), telegraphs to 
 Damascus (was it not?) to get prayers offered in the 
 synagogue (dear, good old Jew) for the Prince of 
 Wales? . . . .' 
 
 •Abbrgwili Palace, 21 Dec., 1871. 
 
 'I have at last read your legend of St. Govan,^ and 
 now return it. There were some points whidh were 
 new to me, or which, as it is now many years since I 
 
 performed the pilgrimage, I had forgotten That 
 
 unaccountableness of the steps is a very precious and 
 delightful feature of the legend, the more so as there 
 is no incident which depends upon it. St. Govan's 
 hospitality was perhaps required to place the ingrati- 
 tude of the pirates in stronger relief. Otherwise the 
 
 1 See Appendix I. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 329 
 
 appearance of Ms refectory would suggest the idea of 
 yery short commons and meagre fare. 
 
 ' I am afraid that it must be more difficult than you 
 suppose to find any trace of a living faith in the legend 
 " at this day." 
 
 ' Have you met with Cox and Jones's " Popular 
 Romances of the Middle Ages"? More than half re- 
 lates to Arthur.' 
 
330 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 1872., 
 
 ' Abeegwili, 1 Jan., 1872; 
 
 ' .... I SUPPOSE you have not been trying to crack 
 Browning's last nut — " Hohenstiel-Schwangau, the 
 Savior of Society." It is really very hard.' 
 
 'Abeegwili, %\Jan., 1872. 
 
 ' You have been a sad transgressor. The midnight 
 hour, when you ought to have been fast asleep, or 
 lapped in pleasant dreams, was not appropriate to such 
 an exercise of self-torment. Having been told, and 
 having yourself admitted that writing does you harm, 
 you nevertheless — by the light of the midnight lamp — 
 pen a letter of two sheets. And for what purpose ? To 
 set before me the impropriety of my neglecting to take 
 proper care of myself, and to exhort me to abstain from 
 over-working myself. 
 
 ' Never, I think, did moralist or satirist produce so 
 apt an illustration of the propensity of mankind to criti- 
 cise what they find amiss in the conduct of others, while 
 they overlook their own faults and shortcomings of the 
 same kind hidden in the bag which is thrown over their 
 shoulders. 
 
 ' But what is most shocking is that in the hour of 
 darkness, when all manner of spectres go abroad, you 
 have made an inroad into a region which you know is 
 
LETTERS TO A FEIEND. 331 
 
 rigidly tabooed by me — speculation on tbe state of 
 my health and sanitary and dietary prescriptions, all 
 grounded on total and inevitable absence of informa- 
 tion and consequent illusion as to the circumstances 
 of the case. There is something so droll in the idea 
 of my regulating my habits at the request of another 
 person, against my own experience and convictions, 
 that as you are not alive to it I do not know how^ to 
 find words to express it. Suffice it to say that, if ever 
 I abdicate the control of my own regime it will be to 
 commit it to some professional adviser in whom I feel 
 confidence ; but that I hold myself immeasurably more 
 competent tlian all the rest of mankind — and here I 
 cannot make even you an exception — to manage for 
 myself. 
 
 ' How prone we are to generalize from particular 
 and accidental cases ! All your affliction has arisen 
 out of the slightness of my luncheon, which, as they 
 were to dine early at Court y Gollen, I felt to be quite 
 needless or worse so Islte in the afternoon. But this is 
 
 connected with another larger question Though 
 
 the evils which arise from excess of drinking are far 
 greater than those which arise front over-eating, I be- 
 lieve that, in the higher and middle classes at least, 
 more lives are shortened by over-eating — as most men 
 eat about twice as much as is good for them — than by 
 drunkenness. 
 
 ' You ought to take warning from my errors 
 
 I had fancied that you would give yourself a holiday 
 from writing, but above all from the still more odious 
 labor of dictation, and would have taken a delightful 
 spell of reading Then you make yourself un- 
 happy with the fancy that the time I was with you 
 
332 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 might have been better spent in cross-examining me. 
 Would "you be surprised to hear that if I had my choice 
 how to pass a perfectly delicious hour, I would lie on a 
 sofa, while you told ghost stories to an accompaniment 
 of soft music ? , . . . 
 
 ' I absolve you this time, but do not transgress 
 again. 
 
 ' How strange that you should forget that my work 
 depends upon my letters, which do not depend upon 
 my will.' 
 
 'Abergwili, 9, Feb., 1872. 
 
 ' . . . . You must have overlooked or misunder- 
 stood what I said about my return. I shall have to 
 leave the Revision Company (objects of your unjust 
 antipathy) sitting, in order to come home for the ex- 
 amination of candidates, whom you are at liberty to 
 hate as much as it is in your nature to hate anybody. 
 Wednesday was really a fatiguing day to me. And 
 why ? Because I had two days' letters to answer in- 
 stead of one. And so it would have been if, instead 
 of going to Brynmawr, I had spent the whole of Tues- 
 day in resting at Llanover. What you call rest really 
 means hard labor postponed for a day or two, during 
 which all pleasure and comfort is spoilt by the anticipa- 
 tion of the inevitable impending evil. A bishop never 
 has and never can have a real holiday. What you pro- 
 1 pose under the name of rest is as bad as a regime of 
 alternate surfeiting and fasting ' 
 
 • Abekgwili, 10 April, 1872. 
 ' . . . . 's view of Satanic influence appears to 
 
 border very close upon Manichseism, and to raise the 
 Evil Principle to an equality with the Searcher of 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 333 
 
 hearts, in one of his incommunicable attributes. You 
 seem to think that a delusion may be enviable. But if 
 that is ever the case — which I doubt — it must depend 
 on the condition of its lasting, and what security can 
 there be that any delusion will last? I know that 
 many pious people find comfort in the belief — which I 
 
 understand you to say is 's — that nothing more is 
 
 required for your salvation than to believe that you are 
 saved. But I can hardly conceive such a state of mind 
 exempt from fluctuations and misgivings, which, how- 
 ever they may be attributed to Satanic influence, must 
 not the less disturb the beUever's peace of mind. And, 
 on the other hand, a happiness which depends on a 
 delusion must be very much circumscribed in its sphere, 
 and must exclude numberless sources of ordinary en- 
 joyment. 
 
 ' How curious it is that you cannot even fall in with 
 an actress who does not add to your stock of ghost 
 stories. Do you remember Madame de Stael's mot on 
 revenants ? " Je ne les crois pas, mais je les crains." 
 Your experience is probably just the reverse. But then 
 you have known so many more than she ever heard of. 
 If you could get all the heroes and heroines of your 
 stories to come together some All Souls in a church- 
 yard, they would already by this time form a handsome 
 procession.' 
 
 'Abbegwili, 8 May, 1872. 
 
 ' .... As I came down yesterday (hj the North- 
 Westem) I read a new poem which I think you would 
 find interesting. It is -called " Olrig Grange," and tells 
 a moving story, enlivened with keen humor, in very 
 pure and flowing verse.' 
 
334 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 •Abergwili, 16 May, 1872. 
 
 ' I hope this will find you safely restored to your 
 fireside, as it is there rather than out of doors that you 
 will probably find most enjoyable. 
 
 ' Nothing could be more delightful than your letter, 
 with the exception of that part in which you went 
 astray on forbidden ground. You know in general that 
 I avoid, all topics relating to the state of my health 
 and rules of living, but, perhaps, you are hardly aware 
 of my rigid inflexibility on this point. To form an ade- 
 quate notion of it you must collect all the synonyms 
 of wilfulness, obstinacy, stubbornness, perverseness, dog- 
 gedness, mulishness, pigheadedness, and all the ima- 
 ges of what is most unyielding in nature and history, 
 — flint, steel, Aberdeen granite, laws of the Medes 
 and Persians, the Pope, the deaf adder that refuses to 
 hear the voice of the charmer — and personify all in me. 
 You would then see how little I am likely to be moved 
 by the most pathetic entreaties and the most forcible 
 argument to give up the supreme control of my habits 
 and hygienic practices. 
 
 ' I will, however, go so far as to say that your two 
 friends know nothing about the matter, but have evi- 
 dently been misled by some erroneous report, and that 
 I am quite as well as when yon saw me at Llanover, 
 and not practising, any ascetic austerities. 
 
 ' I am afraid that after all you left town without 
 seeing the Exhibition. There was nothing in the report 
 of the dinner worth reading, unless it was the speech 
 of the Duke of Cambridge, in which he broached the 
 delightful theory that every exhibition surpasses its 
 predecessor as regularly as a boy grows from year to 
 year. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 335 
 
 ' I can hardly believe that Manning would acknowl- 
 edge the doctrine attributed to him in your anecdote, 
 as it seems entirely to ignore the efficacy of sacerdotal 
 consecration, by which, as I heard it stated in a French 
 sermon, the priest, who can make God, stands even 
 above the Blessed Virgin, who only gave Him birth. 
 
 ' I am sorry that I do not know who wrote " Olrig 
 Grange." I hope you are reading Miss Thackeray's 
 novel in the " Cornhill," and a story which promises to be 
 very curious, called " The Pearl and the Emerald." . . . .' 
 
 ' Abbkgwili, i June, 1872. 
 
 ' Your last_ letter is very pleasant, but unusually 
 tantalizing. Let me give you a piece of advice, which 
 will save you trouble, and will bring great gain to me. 
 Whenever you feel a doubt whether you have or have 
 not told me anything which you wish me to know, 
 always take it for granted that you have not, and let 
 me hear it at once. 
 
 ' There is not one of the things about which you 
 express a doubt that I ever heard of before. An^ now 
 — unless your memory can keep that which would cer- 
 tainly escape any other — the chances are that I never 
 shall I suppose you cannot have read " Middle- 
 march," as you say nothing about it. It stands quite 
 alone. As one only just moistens one's lips with an 
 exquisite liqueur, to keep the taste .as long as possible 
 in one's mouth, I never read more than a single chapter 
 of " Middlemarch " in the evening, dreading to come 
 to the last, when I must wait two months for a renewal 
 of the pleasure. The depth of humor has certainly 
 never been surpassed in English literature. If there is 
 ever a shade too much learning, that is Lewes's fault. 
 
336 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ' My mind is quite a blank as to the meaning of a 
 primrose wedding. ^ It is only from the hint in the 
 letter I conjecture that the bridesmaids carry primrose 
 bouquets. 
 
 ' I am also innocent of that English governess, and 
 believe I must make one grand skip of her book, 
 though a Siamese St. Fran9ois de Sales has wherewith 
 to excite curiosity. But there is a great affinity be- 
 tween Buddhism and Romanism.' 
 
 ' Abergwili, 6 July, 1872. 
 '. . . .Your letter has been forwarded to me from 
 London, where I only stayed two nights. The occasion 
 of my going up was simply to reply to an attack made 
 upon my speech^ of February by the Bishop of Win- 
 chester in May, when I happened to be absent. It was 
 absolutely necessary for me to take the opportunity of the 
 next meeting of Convocation to do so. But nothing could 
 be more inconvenient and disagreeable, and I am still 
 occupied with the correction of the proofs of my speech, 
 which is to appear in the " Guardian " next week ' 
 
 'Abergwili, 16 July, 1872. 
 ' - ... If you have made a vow to read my speech 
 I am afraid you will find more than you bargained for. 
 It was delivered under difficulties both internal and ex- 
 ternal — the former arising from a bad night, the latter 
 from interruptions, which, but for the protection of the 
 Archbishop, would have prevented me from saying 
 some of the chief things I had to say. It seems to 
 
 1 At the wedding alluded to the church was decorated with prim- 
 roses, the hridesmaids wore them, and the hride carried a large bouquet 
 of them. 
 
 ^ On the Athanasian Creed, now published in the Eemains, iii. 247. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 337 
 
 have been thought that, though it was quite proper for 
 Mr. Burgon to denounce me from his pulpit behind my 
 back, it was wrong for me to make a remark upon him 
 in Convocation which he was not present to answer. 
 .... It was Sir George Lewis who made that philo- 
 sophical remark about life and its pleasures.^ It was 
 the simple expression of his own life-long experience. 
 Very few other men could have said the same thing 
 sincerely. To him the business of life was all that 
 there was attractive in it. But I am not sure whether 
 he was incapable of enjoying light reading. If so I 
 admire rather than envy him. But I find my time for 
 reading of every kind wofully contracted. I observed 
 that you had liot yet read the last part of the " Earthly 
 Paradise." I have not myself yet cut it open, though 
 I think it must be two years ago since I was delighting 
 myself with the thought of reading it under a tree. 
 Yesterday would have been admirably suited for it. I 
 hope St. S within is not capable of showing a smiling 
 face, and then sending a spell of bad weather. 
 
 ' . . . . I do not remember to have heard before of 
 the snake-jewel. But I cannot get it out of my head 
 that there is a stone of some rarity, and supposed to 
 possess medicinal virtue, in some way connected with 
 snakes. At the Spanish conquest of Peru the emerald 
 was not known to be a precious stone.' ^ 
 
 1 In allusion to the ■well-known remark that life would be tolerahle 
 but for its pleasures. 
 
 ^. It is an Arab belief that the snake has a precious stone in its head, 
 which it can remove at pleasure. An Arab assured Sir Gardner "Wilkin- 
 son that one night he saw a, snake feeding by the light of this stone, 
 which it had placed on the ground for that purpose, but, directly he 
 approached, the snake swallowed the gem to prevent his taking it 
 away. 
 
 15 
 
338 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 ' Abekgwili, 23 July, 1872. 
 
 ' You know that your pretended " revelation " is 
 nothing more than a guess and a fish-hook. But I 
 have no objection to admit the fact. What is amaz- 
 ing is the calmness with which you propound the most 
 astounding paradoxes as indisputable truths. Your hy- 
 pothesis is directly in the teeth both of reason and 
 experience. How far one's sleep depends upon one's 
 dinner may admit of a doubt, though it is well known 
 that sleep supplies the place of food, and I believe the 
 only effect of an empty stomach is to make the sleeper 
 dream of a feast — " and lo ! he awakes and is hungry." 
 But that sleep depends on the previous luncheon is the 
 most extravagant of all suppositions. 
 
 ' When I went up to town last I did as I had done 
 scores of times before, without the smallest detriment 
 to my night's rest ; and when I went up on the 3rd of 
 May, in consequence of the transition from broad to 
 narrow gauge, I was thirteen hours on the road, and, 
 you will shudder to hear, tasted nothing from break- 
 fast until eleven at night. But I did not sleep a bit 
 the worse 
 
 ' It is a sad pity that you do not travel oftener with 
 bishops. You would bring out all their good qualities, 
 and improve them. I have no doubt that I rose in my 
 
 brother of 's estimation when he saw how warmly 
 
 you took my part. If you had travelled together a 
 little longer it is very likely that you would have con- 
 verted him. What a grand thing it would be if you 
 were shut up witfii Burgon ! ' ^ - 
 
 > *19^MZy, 1872. 
 
 ' Pray do not hate Burgon. He is an excellent man, very much 
 liked ty everybody who knows him.' 
 
LETTERS TO Jl FEIEND. 339 
 
 'Abergwili, 6 Aug., 1872. 
 ' . . . . Pray tell me how you contrive to burn 
 letters at this time of the year. Bad as the weather 
 has been we have not yet returned to fires, and the 
 only one I know of in the house is in the kitchen, a 
 sanctuary into which I never intrude ' 
 
 •Abergwili Palace, 12 Aiig., 1872. 
 
 ' I have forwarded the slips to Mr. Edwardes. I 
 read the description of the festivities with much pleas- 
 ure, and was truly glad that an occasion which can 
 never return should have passed with such complete 
 success. I suppose every one felt how much it was 
 owing to the preisiding intelligence.^ The organizing 
 of such a fete is really a great work of art — a 
 Kunststiick, as Germans call it — which it is given to 
 few to plan and execute. Moltke himself could not 
 have done better, possibly riot so well. 
 
 " I was very much pleased with the heir's Welsh 
 
 speech What a glorious motto is that of his 
 
 house ! and what a fine word, asgre. 
 
 ' I had never met with it before, and it seems to 
 
 have gone entirely out of use. Dr. Pngh gives the 
 
 motto as the only example, calling it an adage. But I 
 
 suppose the right translation of asgre Idn is a dean 
 
 breast. 
 
 ' ' The festivities upon which the Bishop thus commented were those 
 which took place at Llanover on the coming of age of Lady Llanover's 
 eldest grandson, Captain Ivor Herbert, of Llanarth, on which occasion 
 Lady Llanover organized and carried out a series of entertainments 
 the details of which elicited the ahove remarks, and the deserved 
 tribute to the "presiding intelligence" of the hostess, the approval of 
 the Welsh speech of the heir, and the deep appreciation of the Welsh 
 motto of his ancient house : "Asgre Ian diogel ei pJierchen" (Safe is the 
 owner of a clear conscience).' 
 
340 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ' You may depend upon your former letter being 
 safely committed to the flames, though I have not 
 yet done so, and, perhaps, shall wait until I can say, 
 Ha ! ha ! I have seen the fire. The grates are now 
 covered with splendid papers, and I am afraid of a 
 conflagration. Also, I must read the letter a few times 
 over again before I part with it forever.' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 21 Aug., 1872. 
 
 * The housemaid must have known that I wanted to 
 burn your letter, for, with no apparent reason, she one 
 evening last week removed the decorations of the grate 
 and lighted a fire, which for any other purpose was 
 both unnecessary and inconvenient. I took advantage 
 
 of it to consume the record All now is restored 
 
 to its summer dress. 
 
 'A thunderstorm is just beginning — I hope the last 
 of this strange season. Pray come if you possibly can.' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 23 Aug., 1872. 
 
 ' .... I think there must be many points in which 
 the editor of the " Atheneeum " must differ from the 
 champion of the Damnatory Clauses. 
 
 ' Mr Perowne has been preaching an admirable 
 sermon on the subject at Llandaff, of which I have 
 seen a proof. You may judge how good it must be 
 from the fact that a young lady went into fits, and two 
 of the congregation took up their hats and walked out 
 of church.' 
 
 'Abbeowili Palace {undcUed), ? Sept., 1872. 
 
 ' It is quite natural that when you bring sunshine 
 into a house you should find everything bright in it. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 341 
 
 ' Your advice as to exercise and other matters is ju- 
 dicious in itself, but proceeds upon assumptions which 
 are not in harmony with the facts of the case, as to 
 which you are very imperfectly informed. 
 
 ' You exhort rae to try an experiment which would 
 certainly cost much precious time, not only without a 
 fair prospect of success, but with a certainty of failure. 
 It is now within a few days of a twelvemonth since my 
 appetite suddenly left me. After that I spent a month 
 by the seaside for the purpose of recovering it, doing 
 the very things you recommend, but not only failed to 
 receive the slightest benefit, but found my appetite — 
 I should say my power of eating — constantly growing 
 weaker, and almost every kind of food more and more 
 disagreeable. It is extremely unpleasant, as it compels 
 me to keep at home But I believe all physi- 
 ologists agree that after a person has reached my age 
 the amount of food on which one can live and thrive 
 becomes smaller and smaller ; in other words, the less he 
 eats the longer he lives. 
 
 ' There is another physiological fact which is evi- 
 dently new to you. It is that the exercise of speaking 
 is very beneficial to the liealth. 
 
 ' John Wesley, when he was preaching from morning 
 till night, used to say that no life was healthier than 
 that of a preacher. Reading is, perhaps, in most cases 
 a greater exertion than preaching (extempore). But 
 much depends on the management of the voice. I 
 was never in the least fatigued by the delivery of the 
 longest of my Charges, which occupied, I am afraid, 
 four hours. My next will, for various reasons, be very 
 much shorter 
 
 ' Mrs. C delivered me your message about 
 
342 BISHOP THIRL WALL'S 
 
 Vaughan the Siluiist. I was led to look at the preface, 
 and saw that you must have growled over some parts 
 of it. I was not before aware that the Herbert motto 
 is also that of the Vanghans, sadly mistranslated, so as 
 to make gldn an epithet, not of the asgre, but of the 
 
 perchen ' 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 17 Sept., 1872. 
 
 ' - . . . The report which reached you of language 
 attributed to me about Welsh must have been fabricated 
 for the purpose of vexing you. You may rest assured 
 that the last conversation I had on that subject was with 
 the Queen, when she expressed the pain it gave her to 
 think of an ancient language becoming extinct, and I 
 assured her of my hearty sympathy. 
 
 ' .... I did not know we had lizards, and still less 
 that they would let you come near them. In Italy they 
 were ihe shyest of creatures and the most difficult to 
 catch.' 
 
 ' Abeegwiu Palace, 4 Oct., 1872. 
 
 ' . . . , Many thanks for " Gates Ajar." ^ But my 
 time and thoughts are so entirely absorbed by other 
 matters, and will continue to be so until I have finished 
 ray Visitation and also sent my Charge to the press, that 
 I do not expect to be able to open it sooner. By the 
 way, what can be your theory about ladies? Is it that 
 they are no part of the laity? Or is it that the pro- 
 ceedings at a Visitation are improper for ladies to 
 witness ? If that was generally understood the church 
 would be so crowded with them that there would hardly 
 be room for the clergy. Therefore, pray do not let it 
 out ' 
 
 1 'By Elizabeth Phelps — an American author.' 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. , 343 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 29 Nov., 1872. 
 
 ' . . . . Just to set you agoing I will say a word 
 about the " Gates Ajar," which I read after the Visita- 
 tion. I remember you wished to know my opinion of 
 it ; but I am not quite sure whether you meant me to 
 keep it or it was a present made to yourself. But that 
 would imply that there was some one beside yourself 
 who could have written the envoi, which I do not be- 
 lieve. 
 
 ' However this may be, I was exceedingly enter- 
 tained with it, partly as a delightful picture of Ameri- 
 can life, and still more by its view of the future state. 
 With regard to this, however, I can only speak rela- 
 tively. How near it approaches the truth I should not 
 venture to say ; but I am quite sure that it comes in- 
 finitely nearer to it than that which is represented by 
 Deacon Qi^irk, and that it would be an immense gain 
 if it superseded that of " congregations which ne'er 
 break up, and Sabbaths which have no end." 
 
 ' The defect seems to be that it is too purely 
 Epicurean, and that ' it offers little more than a con- 
 tinuation of earthly enjoyment without action or ipi'og- 
 ress. There is a larger and higher view of the subject 
 in Stopford Brooke's first sermon on Immortality. Do 
 you know them ? He seems to me the best of all 
 the London preachers to read ; but I never heard 
 him ' 
 
344 BISHOP THIKLWALL'S 
 
 1873. 
 
 • Abergwili Palace, 10 Jan., 1873. 
 ' .... I see that I cannot sympathize with you in 
 your complaints of the weather. It has been every- 
 thing that T enjoy most at this season of the year. 
 Howling winds, pattering rain, and floods turning the 
 valley into a lake, are to me delightful. It has, there- 
 fore, been a great pleasure to me to find that it is at 
 least doubtful whether the extraordinary rainfall, if not 
 an unalloyed blessing, has not done more good than 
 harm. That it is mitigating the suffering which winter 
 always brings on great masses of people there can be 
 no doubt ; and therefore, though I suppose I ought not 
 to say so, I have been strongly inclined to side with 
 the opponents of the Archbishop in the controversy 
 about the Prayer, though the truth may lie somewhere 
 midway. 
 
 ' I have never received a part of " Middlemarch " 
 without reading it straight through, and should always 
 have done so in still less time if it had not been a thing 
 which one savors like some exquisite liqueur. Your 
 fact is curious. I fancied that her physics were all 
 taken from Lewes ; but, perhaps, he has had no oppor- 
 tunity of observing the effects of opium.^ 
 
 1 ' A doctor sent a letter to George Eliot from the country expressing 
 his regret that in describing the effect of opium on Lydgate's eyes she 
 
LETTERS TO A ERIEND. 345 
 
 ' I knew that you would be ready to tear my MacColl 
 to pieces if he came in your way. There can be no 
 doubt that he is a very clever man; but he relies too 
 much on his cleverness for extricating him from the 
 scrapes into which he falls through his astonishing 
 thoughtlessness. 
 
 'I do not know whether you ever see the "Guar- 
 dian." The last number (the 8th instant) contains the 
 last notice I mean ever to take of him.' 
 
 i 
 
 'Abergwili Palace, 15 Jan., 1873. 
 
 ' For fear I should also forget the Dutch legend I 
 must satisfy your curiosity at once. I never edited any 
 Dutch book ; but in this case it is possible to trace the 
 myth to its source. 
 
 ' Some twelve years ago my friend Keightley picked 
 up a Dutch book at a stall, and was so taken with it 
 that he thought it might be worth translating, and sent 
 it to me to have my opinion of it. I also thought it 
 interesting, both as a picture of Dutch country life and 
 as opening glimpses into the working of the Dutch 
 Church. So he was induced to publish a translation of 
 it, with a preface, in which he gave an extract from my 
 letter, I only hope that I did not draw either him or 
 his publisher into a losing speculation. The title of the 
 
 had said it dilated them. She thereupon spoke to Sir James Paget and 
 said she did not understand how she had made such a mistalie, because 
 she was well aware that opium contracted the pupil of the eye, and she 
 supposed . she must, at the moment, have been thinking of the effect of 
 alcohol. She seemed to think the error sufficiently grave to necessitate 
 the breaking up of the type, but was happily relieved on being assured 
 that she had made no mistake, for that she had written not of the 
 pupils but of the eyes, and was probably right in describing Lydgate's, 
 in his, excitement, as "bright, dilated" (or wide-open). The passage is 
 in vol. iv. p. 12.' 
 
 15* 
 
346 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 Dutch work was " De Pastorij te Mastland ; " in Eng- 
 lish, "The Manse of Mastland" (should have been 
 Mastland Manse) 
 
 ' The deceased Emperor gains, I think, by com- 
 parison with his uncle. He was a better, at least not 
 so bad a man, and on the whole, perhaps, did less harm 
 to France, and would probably have done still better if 
 he had had no uncle ; only then he would have been 
 nobody. 
 
 ' It is very difficult now to say what cause or prin- 
 ciple the young Prince represents. Peace ? War ? 
 The elective or hereditary principle ? And his difficulty 
 will be that he cannot put himself forward in any of 
 these characters without alienating a great part of the 
 nation.' 
 
 • Aeekgwili Palace, 25 Jan., 1873. 
 
 'I forwarded the account of Louise Lateau to Mr. 
 
 C ?■ It was entirely new to me, though if there is 
 
 a paper on the subject in " Macmillan " I probably read 
 it. When you say you believe in the miracle, is that 
 exactly what you mean ? I should have inferred from 
 your report of the case that j'ou believed the fact, but 
 not the miracle. That is the case with myself. The 
 lady who describes the state of the patient evidently 
 regards it as the effect of a miraculous interposition. 
 But this, it appears to me, nobody can have a right to 
 do without a perfect knowledge of the human frame, and 
 of the extent to which it may be affected by the action 
 of the imagination and the will. Such knowledge, 
 
 • 'An Estatica, born in 1850, in the village of Bois d'Haine, in 
 Hainault, Belgium, of humble parentage. The first appearance of the 
 Btigmatft took place in 1868, and she was subject to frequent ecstatic 
 fits. Macmillan, April, 1871.' 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 347 
 
 which alone could enable one to draw the line in such 
 a case as this of Lateau, I never pretended to possess, 
 and therefore should have suspended my judgment 
 upon the alleged miracle if I had heard nothing more 
 about it than is contained in the lady's narrative. But 
 as soon as it is ascertained that there are persons who 
 are subject to an abnormal spontaneous effusion of 
 blood there needs no great effort to believe that their 
 imagination, when excited like that of S. Teresa, may 
 determine its locality in conformity with the sacred 
 wounds. What have I been doing? I now see that I 
 have been attributing to you what you only say of 
 "men otherwise sensible." I ought to have inferred 
 that you do not believe the miracle, though, perhaps, 
 you do believe the fact, which, for my part, I see no 
 reason to doubt. 
 
 ' No one without a gift of prophecy or clairvoyance 
 could pretend to say what will be the future of the 
 young Napoleon (you call him Napoleon IV., but I do 
 not find that lie has assumed that title, or means to 
 do so until it is conferred on him by a plebiscite). But 
 his future must depend on two unknown things: first, 
 what kind of person he turns out ; and, secondly, what 
 are tlie circumstances in which he will be placed when 
 he comes of age. Only so much may, I think, be safely 
 believed ; that the Bonapartist party will never of itself 
 be strong enough to place him on the throne ; but that 
 if the French are ever brought to believe that the resto- 
 ration of the Napoleon dynasty offers the best security 
 for the preservation of order within, and for revenge on 
 Prussia, it Avill certainly be restored. 
 
 ' I think I did read that letter to the " Times " 
 about spiritualism, and somebody sent me a spiritualist 
 
348 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 journal ; but I can take nothing of this kind at second- 
 hand. 
 
 ' I remember meeting Mrs. Somerville at breakfast at 
 Rogers's, and having some conversation with her about 
 Andersen's description of Roman life, which we agreed 
 in thinking unequalled. She had an extraordinary re- 
 ceptive faculty, but it seems to be questioned whether 
 she extended the borders of science. 
 
 ' I do not remember to have ever heard of " Beunan's 
 Meriasek." ^ I should guess that it must have come 
 from Whitley Stokes, as I believe he is in India, and 
 I know of no other great Celtic scholar there, though I 
 was not aware that he had made a special ' study of 
 Cornish literature.' 
 
 'Abbegwili Palace, 12 Feb., 1873. 
 
 'Your kind wishes came at the nick of time — har- 
 bingers, I hope, of better days coming. It has been a 
 very cruel and destructive winter. Among our recent 
 losses, none has gone to my heart so much as that of 
 poor dear Sedgwick. I do not know whether you knew 
 him, or sufficiently to appreciate liis character. He was 
 a true child of nature and a son of Dent.^ He will yet 
 live long in many memories, though he has survived 
 almost all his contemporaries 
 
 ' Does history confirm your opinion that we cannot 
 readily think of a Napoleon without a number tacked 
 to his name? During the late Emperor's first exile 
 nobody thought of calling him by any other title than 
 that of Prince Louis Napoleon, and it seems very 
 doubtful whether he had then made up ihis mind 
 
 ^ ' Tlui Life of St. Meriasek, a Cornish Drama, published by the Hon. 
 Whitley Stokes in 1872. The uniq^ue MS. is preserved at Peniarth.' 
 * In Yorkshire. 
 
LETTERS TO A FBIEND. 349 
 
 whether he would be the Second or Third of his 
 dynasty. 
 
 ' How dreadful was the weather which followed the 
 wet season ! There was no room in the house where I 
 could keep myself warm. How heartily I assented to 
 Michelet's remark in his " Insect Book : " " Pour ma 
 part, mes souvenirs d'enfance me disent que le froid est 
 proprement un supplice ; nulle habitude n'y fait ; la 
 prolongation n'en rend pas I'effet plus doux." For 
 " souvenirs d'enfance," I might read " sensations de 
 vieillesse." And then to think how few of my number- 
 less fellow-sufferers could command the same appliances 
 to mitigate their misery ! 
 
 ' Did you see the description of the hurricane which 
 swept over Minnesota, coming direct from the North 
 Pole, and burying the whole country in snow? I be- 
 lieve that our gale belonged to the same wave, which 
 was thought to travel at the rate of one hundred miles 
 an hour, and had not quite spent itself before it reached 
 us, lasting fifty hours Avithout interruption. For the, 
 present, the misery of cold seems likely to be felt more 
 and more as oiir supply of coal is reduced, until some 
 mode is discovered to make us independent of those 
 who own and dispense this treasure, as to which their 
 private interest is in direct opposition to that of all the 
 rest of the community. And all this while we are ex- 
 porting millions of tons ! ' 
 
 •Abergwili Palace, 14 Feb., 1873. 
 
 ' .... I am much obliged to you for the sight of 
 M. Martin's letter, which I return. How little could I 
 have imagined that a Charge of mine should come under 
 the eye of a French M.P. 
 
350 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ' You were a thousand times more likely to Lave 
 heard of Stephen's book than I, and no report of it has 
 reached me. I know as little about?^Lugel, and am 
 quite incompetent to form any opinion on the subject 
 of his controversy with Villemarqu^. If I had ever 
 travelled in La Vendue, I should probably have tried 
 to acquire the pronunciation of the Breton, without 
 which one can hardly study the pi-inted books with any 
 profit. 
 
 ' I heartily hope that France will at last right 
 and settle herself. Any calamities which may be 
 attended with that result would prove themselves bless- 
 ings How glad I am that Amadeus has abdi- 
 cated ! He was a thousand times too good for such 
 a people. One~can hardly help hoping that the end 
 may be, that after exhausting their strength in that 
 civil strife which seems to be their natural element, 
 they may fall under the dominion of another King Stork, 
 such as Ferdinand VH., and so at last learn the value of 
 Amadeus.' 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 15 ^^n/, 1873. 
 
 ' I return your " Reminiscences of Knebworth," 
 which I enjoyed very much indeed. They read like a 
 scene in " Lothair." 
 
 * You have, no doubt, reason to say, " every one 
 lives a novel of modern life." But there are novels 
 and novels. Every old Kensington is a novel, but every 
 novel is not an old Kensington. Some are much better 
 to live than to read. Perhaps, indeed, it is always with 
 private as with public histories — the happiest of lives 
 are the least worth relating. 
 
 ' How curious it is that, wherever you go, you con- 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 351 
 
 jure up some super- or prseter-natural events. The 
 incident, which might have ended tragically, reminded 
 me forcibly of one which happened to myself. Many 
 years ago .... I happened to be at Gladestry, and 
 wishing to inspect an outlying mountain chapel — Rulen 
 or Colva — I set out on foot by myself. I was soon in 
 an open country, where neither house nor human being 
 was to be seen. Presently, I heard steps behind me, 
 and turning, saw two most ill-looking fellows coming 
 at full speed, a pace between running and walking. I 
 felt myself completely in their power, and turned aside 
 from the. middle of the road, to give them as wide a 
 berth as possible. They, however, took no notice of 
 me, but continued their quick march. Half a mile 
 farther on I came to a hamlet where everybody was at 
 his door or gate looking after my two friends. They 
 had, no doubt, either just made their escape from 
 prison, or were in fear of arrest for something they had 
 just been doing. , But I never had the satisfactioh to 
 hear that either of them had been hanged. 
 
 ' Do you think Lord L.'s adventure \%as before his 
 " Paul Clifford " ? ' i 
 
 'Abeegwili Palace, 5 June, 1873. 
 
 ' .... I am not in the least surprised at any fresh 
 conversion to Rome, particularly of a lady. I fully 
 undei-stand the fascination which the whole thing 
 exerts on many minds. I also know that there is 
 hardly one case in ten thousand where anything de- 
 pends upon the conviction of the understanding. It 
 is almost always an affair of imagination and feeling. 
 
 1 The story here referred to will be published in the forthcoming 
 Life of Lord Lytton. 
 
352 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 What may be the effect of consulting clergymen of the 
 Church of England on such a question, is extremely 
 difficult to say, unless one knew who they are. What 
 is certain is that there are numbers of them who would 
 be very much at a loss to assign any good reason for 
 remaining where they are themselves.' 
 
 ' Abekgwili Palace, 20 Aitg., 1873. 
 That was a charming illustration of ■ 
 
 about the need of trusting your spiritual physician as 
 to the health of your soul, just as you do your doctor 
 for the health of your body. No doubt the doctor may 
 be likely to know or guess better than the patient 
 whether a certain diet will agree with him or not. But 
 it is the patient alone who can say whether the doc- 
 tor's regime has been successful or not, and in most 
 cases his own experience is his safest guide. The study 
 of theology may enable a man to solve knotty points 
 of orthodoxy and of ecclesiastical discipline, but has 
 not been found to quicken the sense of right and wrong 
 on which tl^e soul's health depends. The question 
 begged is nothing less than the priest's infallibility.' 
 
 ' Abergwili Palace, 3 Sept., 1873. 
 
 ' .... It is difficult to say whether it is a greater 
 evil that husband and wife should live aliens to one 
 another, or that the children should be brought up in 
 the faith which sends English men and women, and 
 some not the lowest, but in rank — though in nothing 
 beside — among the noblest of the land, on pilgrimages 
 to declare their belief that Marie Alacoque had her 
 heart torn out by her Lord and enclosed in his own 
 
 ' By an odd coincidence the slip of the " Hereford 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 353 
 
 Times" contains a letter concerning myself. It seems 
 that a man named Haig, who desires to represent Brecon 
 in the Dissenting interest has found out that, while 
 carrying away heaps of gold, I have not been in Rad- 
 norshire for thirty years ! the fact being that I have 
 visited it oftener, and seen more of it, than any other 
 county in the diocese, except Carmarthenshire, not 
 merely, as stated in my friend's letter, on confirma- 
 tions and other ordinary occasions, but on journeys, 
 made chiefly on horseback, for the sole purpose of in- 
 specting the churches in the wildest and most seques- 
 tered parts of the country,' 
 
 'Abbegwili Palace, 10 Oct., 1873. 
 
 ' I hardly know what to say to your kind proposal. 
 I have no doubt that whatever pleases you would in- 
 terest me; but, unhappily, that is not the question. 
 You can have no idea of the difficulty I experience in 
 finding time for reading, not merely books of amuse- 
 ment, but works of the greatest importance for practical 
 purposes. This scarcity of leisure is one of the great 
 
 miseries of my life You do not mention the size 
 
 of the book. But I am loath to decline looking at it, 
 though quite uncertain when I could find time to read 
 it. If you send it, would you mind putting a slip of 
 paper between the leaves, to guide me to the parts 
 which you found most interesting ? 
 
 ' There is a story in Boccaccio of a wicked old usurer 
 of Cahors, who, if his real life had been known, would 
 not have received Christian burial, but before his death 
 he confessed to a priest in such a way as to obtain the 
 honors of a saint. I do not know how would 
 
354 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 treat you if you were a " Cat." ^ But if you made the 
 same confession aa you have made to me I should think 
 very ill of him if he imposed any penance but ,that of 
 being patted and stroked. Could he absolve you from 
 the sin of being too loving and anxious for others, or 
 from that of being too ready to take the lovrest room ? ' 
 
 ' Abergwili Palace, 13 Oct., 1873. 
 
 ' . . . . But his illustration of his belief in Infalli- 
 bility entirely misses the point, and does not raise the 
 real question. He attributes to his Church a kind of 
 Infallibility which she does not claim, but would re- 
 pudiate as an utter mistake of her doctrine. She does 
 not pretend to be infallible in matters of medical or 
 physical science or any but faith and morals. 
 
 ' No " Cat." if he is in doubt about symptoms 
 which he feels, would be taught to consult a priest, 
 and if he did so, the priest would certainly tell him that 
 he knew nothing about it, and would send him to a 
 doctor. No confessor would pretend to decide whether 
 his penitent was laboring under color-blindness, but 
 would direct him to inquire whether the color which 
 he saw was the same in which the object appeared to 
 other people. The proper way of raising the question 
 would have been to say : " This cloth appears to me 
 red. But if I am assured by authority that it does 
 not appear to me so, I am ready to stifle my conscious- 
 ness, and to believe that it appears to me not red, but 
 white." That I should call a strong faith. But I do 
 not know whether it would not be too strong for . 
 
 ' But suppose that, instead of this ill-chosen example, 
 
 I Alluding to the playful way in which Boman Catholics speak of 
 themselves. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 355 
 
 the question had been raised on some matter of history, 
 as to which there might be room for rational difference 
 of opinion — argument moves in what logicians call a 
 vicious circle. 
 
 ' Put it in the form of question and answer. 
 
 ' Q. Why do you now believe a proposition which 
 you once rejected as false, and which still shocks your 
 understanding ? 
 
 ' A. Because it is affirmed by an infallible Church. 
 
 ' Q. Why do you believe the Church to be infallible ? 
 
 ' A. Because upon inquiry I satisfied myself that i^ 
 is so. 
 
 ' Q. If you were competent, by the exercise of your 
 understanding, to decide upon so vast a question as the 
 Infallibility of the Church, why should you be less com- 
 petent to judge for yourself on the particular propo- 
 sition now under our consideration ? 
 
 ^A. Because now I am satisfied that the Church is 
 infallible. 
 
 ' Need I ^prolong the dialogue ? ' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 31 Oct., 1873. 
 ' I return Miss Wynn's book.^ It has been a great 
 success with me — only imbittered by compunction for 
 the waste of your time which I caused by my suggestion 
 about the slips. I had scarcely opened it before I saw 
 that I must read it from beginning to end. It belongs 
 to the class which is to me the most attractive of all 
 reading. There is nothing I enjoy so much as the 
 reflection of a large portion of contemporary history on 
 the mind of a person who has moved in the best society. 
 
 * 'Extracts from Letters and Diaries of Charlotte Williams Wyrm, 
 1871. Privately printed and since published." 
 
356 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 ' Then she was evidently a very extraordinary per- 
 son — an independent thinker v?ith a marvellous power 
 of reading. I was very much struck by the quiet .way 
 in which she says (p. 184), " Bunsen lent me Rothe's 
 ' Ethik,' which I have read with great satisfaction, and 
 divers other theological works." You cannot fully 
 appreciate this unless you know that Rothe's " Ethik " 
 is a book of above 2,000 (reflect, two thousand) closely 
 written pages of very stiff German metaphysics. 
 
 'I also sympathize with her tastes, and share most 
 of her opinions. I am not indeed sure that she would 
 have satisfied Cyril of Alexandria as to her orthodoxy ; 
 but I believe that the apostles would have counted her 
 
 a good Christian She is certainly one of whom 
 
 Wales has reason to be proud. You never said whether 
 you knew her personally. It would do you great good 
 if you fancied her at your side and giving you the advice 
 which you would have been sure to hear from her, with 
 the benefit of her own experience.' 
 
 'Abbegwili Palace, 15 Nov., 1873. 
 ' - . . . Considering how much of the happiness of 
 our lives depends upon causes which are wholly beyond 
 our control, I know of nothing more important than 
 the exercise of submission to the Inevitable, which in- 
 volves the right use and full enjoyment of the present.' 
 
 'Abergwili Palaob, 1 Dec., 1873. 
 ' I believe there is no reason to doubt about Mr. 
 
 Chidlow's Welsh You know that Miss , when 
 
 travelling in the north, addressing the chambermaid 
 at an inn in her purest Cymraeg, received for answer 
 " dim Saesoneg," or is that a myth ? At all events I 
 
LETTERS TO A EKIEND. 357 
 
 believe there is no doubt that the Gogledd looks down 
 upon us as semi-barbarians. But I have no doubt that 
 you will soon bring Mr. Chidlow, if he shares that delu- 
 sion, to a better understanding. 
 
 ' .... I have read Mill's " Autobiography," and 
 was much surprised when I came to the passage con- 
 cerning myself. I do not think it biases my judgment 
 of the work, though I find that I think better of it than 
 most of his critics. But I had always considered him 
 as a noble spirit, who had the misfortune of being 
 educated by a narrow-minded pedant, who cultivated 
 his intellectual faculties at the expense of all the rest 
 yet did not succeed in stifling them. Was there ever a 
 useful life that was not removed sooner or later ? And 
 if that is the universal law, how can it solve the ques- 
 tion whether that which happens in conformity to it is 
 " right " ? I should myself hesitate to say that whatever 
 is, is best ; but I have a strong faith that it is for the 
 best, and that the general stream of tendency is toward 
 
 good ' 
 
 ' Abergwili Palace, Christinas Eve, 1873. 
 
 ' . . . . The " Cats." have contrived to turn Pur- 
 gatory, which in itself has a great deal to commend it 
 as a plausible conjecture, into an immoral and de- 
 moralizing absurdity and a mere source of filthy lucre. 
 According to the original idea, it was an instrument 
 of purification through suffering. But according to the 
 mediaeval practice sanctioned by Papal authority the 
 same benefit may be obtained without any suffering at 
 all, by a short prayer or a small coin offered by any 
 
 other person in the sufferer's behalf. would assure 
 
 you that the Church knows nothing of such abuses. 
 .... I am myself much inclined to believe that every 
 
358 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 truth which " Cats." hold is more or less leavened with 
 superstition, but it may be not the less very precious 
 truth ; and so far as their faith is one which enables 
 them to look out into the world calmly, lovingly, and 
 
 hopefully, I am sure it is an orthodox faith 
 
 ' I hope I am not uncharitable, but I do not believe 
 that ever had any fixed opinion about Establish- 
 ment or Disestablishment, but kept them in his hand 
 as cards to be played according to the turn of the game. 
 With how many other public men is not that the case ? ' 
 
 'Abebgwili Palace, 27 Dee., 1873. 
 
 ' Pray do not take such a gloomy view of things, 
 which has not even the advantage of being a true one. 
 The heroine of Schiller's " Wallenstein " sang — 
 
 'loh habe gelebt und geliebt' (I have lived and loved). 
 
 That to her was happiness enough, whatever might 
 come after, 
 
 ' Surely life is a good thing, unless it be imbittered 
 by some quite exceptional suffering, without compen- 
 sation or alleviation, a case which probably never oc- 
 curred — life, I say, is a good thing, whether it be long 
 or short. But even if that might be questioned, there 
 can be no doubt that to love and be beloved is one of 
 the very best of things, the most solid blessing that 
 earth or heaven itself can yield. 
 
 ' How can its quality be affected by its direction ? 
 If it belongs to the past, it has been placed beyond the 
 reach of change — a fact forever. There is no reason 
 why it should not survive death, and retain a perpetual 
 influence on the moral nature. 
 
 ' But how can it be the less precious because we 
 
LETTERS TO A TRIEND. 359 
 
 know nothing witli certainty of our history oltre tomba 
 or even if we knew that it was to be blank ? Even that 
 would only be a reason for prizing our high privilege 
 the more, and cultivating it the more actively. How 
 much more when it carries in itself the germ of a hope 
 full of immortality. 
 
 ' Pray never ask, " Where would be the good of 
 having loved so much ? " unless you are prepared to say 
 that, under any possible circumstances, you would wish 
 to love less, or be loveless. 
 
 ' There is a little lecture which I commend to your 
 Christmas musings.' 
 
360 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 1874. 
 
 'Abbrgwili Palace, 13 Jan., 1874. 
 
 ' .... I always enjoyed Horace Walpole's letters 
 very much. But his " facility " is always labored, though 
 often so successfully that you do not perceive the 
 labor. But I believe that every letter was considered 
 by him as a literary production, and written with a view 
 to publication, and to the renown of an English 
 S^vign^. But their interest, as illustrating the history 
 and manners of his age, remains the same.' ^ 
 
 ' Abbrgwili Palace, 17 Feb., 1874. 
 
 ' I do not know what consolation to offer you on the 
 general result of the election, unless it be that I believe 
 every election since the existence of a Parliament has 
 been accompanied with an enormous development of 
 the evil passions of our nature, and that it is an occasion 
 when persons, otherwise conscientious, act on the prin- 
 ciple that the end justifies the means. In this, I dare 
 say, we are no better, but neither worse, than our 
 fathers. I think, apropos of this, I ought to make a 
 confession with regard to my own feelings, though I am 
 afraid it will lower me in your opinion, perhaps even to 
 the rarikiof an angel. But I must own that as to the 
 
 * It is belieYed that Horace Walpole kept copies of all Ms letters, 
 wKich have laeen suhsequently published, and it is certain that he did so 
 inrthe case of 'his letters to Sir Horace Mann. 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 361 
 
 election, the Churchman in me has so far got the better 
 of the Liberal, that 1 could not duly sympathize with 
 either of the defeated candidates. 
 ' Absolve me if you can.' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 23 April, 1874. 
 
 ' Why should you think that I have been more than 
 usually busy since you heard from me last ? No letter 
 was ever yet written without either some outward 
 occasion or some inward impulse, and neither has 
 occurred to set my pen in motion youward. You have 
 had a journey to Tenby to record, which, though there 
 have been more memorable adventures, is still a respect- 
 able incident ; but a walk up or down stairs, or even 
 the length of the house, hardly affords sufficient ma- 
 terials for description to any but the author of the 
 " Voyage autour de ma Chambre." This most extraor- 
 dinary season looks and feels as if the almanac had 
 mistaken April for May. I hope it will last until M. 
 
 Henri Martin visits , that it may confound all his 
 
 preconceived ideas of an English, or at least of a Welsh 
 spring. When you see him, do not forget to ask him 
 what he thinks of Victor Hugo's " Quatre-vingt-treize.'^ 
 I am almost ashamed of having committed the frightful 
 extravagance of buying it. I thought it the poorest of 
 the series in poetical invention. Yet it certainly has 
 the advantage of " L'Homme qui rit " as a picture of 
 society not absolutely without a counterpart in reality. 
 There was a very good review of it in a recent number of 
 the " Revue des deux Mondes." As a specimen of bibli- 
 opolist art — the slender rill of text meandering through 
 large expanse of margin, with frequent stations in 
 which the eye reposes on pure blank — it cannot be 
 
 16 
 
362 BISHOP THIRLW ALL'S 
 
 easily surpassed. But all this while I find that I am 
 miserably behindhand "with native literature. I have 
 not only never yet seen but never heard of Houghton's 
 " Men of Mark." I have no doubt that I furnished 
 Sydney Smith with an inexhaustible fund of amusement 
 in days past, and, having provided the materials of the 
 entertainment, I think it is hard that I should not par- 
 take of it.' 
 
 ' Abeegwili Palace, 1 May, 1874. 
 ' It was very stupid in me not at once to understand 
 what book you were speaking of. I do not remember 
 to have heard of " Men of Mark," though it would be 
 an excellent title ; but the extract was from Lord 
 Houghton's "Monographs," of which he sent me a 
 copy, I am afraid now a year ago — long enough for me 
 to forget Sydney's pleasantry. It is the most enter- 
 taining volume Lord Houghton ever published, and a 
 kind of reading which I might safely prescribe for you 
 when you are squeamish about books, as I am sure it 
 would interest you more than any novel, beside being 
 more easily taken up and laid down, each character 
 being set in a frame of moderate size. I wish you 
 would at least make trial of it, and give it a holiday, by 
 relieving it from its constant attendance on the draw- 
 ing-room table, where it is now, I believe, regarded 
 only as an incumbrance. Shall I send it to you by 
 book post, or is there any other mode of conveyance 
 which would be more convenient ?....' 
 
 ' Abergwili Palace, 13 May, 1874. 
 'A single but very big word. The rumor which 
 you too hastily believed when it was false will this time 
 turn out to be true.' 
 
LETTERS TO A FEIEND. 353 
 
 The rumor to whicli this letter refers was the res- 
 ignation of his Bishopric. After this the letters, first 
 from the pressure of business, and then from the failure 
 of his eyesight, become too fragmentary for publication. 
 It appears from them that in May, 1874, he left Aber- 
 gwili ' never to return,' and settled at Bath, and hoped 
 ' to find a last resting-place in this pleasant neighbor- 
 hood.' 
 
 He was obliged to part with all the occupants of the 
 Abergwili Library, ' whose beloved faces,' he writes, 
 ' I shall never see again.i It will, I believe, take 
 months to put the mass of books and papers which 
 
 have arrived in available order The work of the 
 
 Revision Company furnishes me with constant and 
 abundant employment, so that, notwithstanding the 
 comparative relief from correspondence, I find the day 
 too short ' 
 
 One or two allusions are found to the comet. 
 
 ' We have now had two months of nearly uninter- 
 rupted fine weather. There is a general and not im- 
 probable suspicion that we owe it to the comet. But 
 I have not yet sepn the celestial visitor, and I am 
 afraid shall not before he reaches his perihelion and 
 begins to recede into other realms of space.' 
 
 An important question, the possibility of revising 
 his works for publication, occupied him. He says : — 
 
 1 This refers to an arrangement made with a London bookseller at 
 the time the Bishop left Abergwili for the sale of the bound books in 
 the Library there. The unbound volumes were removed to his house 
 in Bath, 
 
364 BISHOP THIRLWALL'S 
 
 ' 59 Ptjltenet Street, Bath, 20 July, 1874. 
 
 ' Before I can make up my mind to publish or re- 
 publish anything I have written I must read it again, 
 and many weeks may elapse before my papers are put 
 in order, so' as to enable me to make choice of those 
 which I would preserve. The subject had not escaped 
 my thoughts, but the selection will be attended with 
 great difficulty. As to my sermons, there are very few 
 which I could consent either to publish or republish. 
 And if I republish my Charges, I should certainly feel 
 myself bound to omit large portions, of a temporary 
 and polemical nature, which might give pain to persons 
 still living, and devoid of any permanent interest. 
 There are some other things which I wrote when I 
 resided at Cambridge which I have reason to think 
 would be quite as acceptable to most of my friends as 
 any of my theological writings, and they would at least 
 have the merit of being inoffensive. But it I had only 
 the choice between publishing everything or destroy- 
 ing all, I should say, "Let all go into the fire." 
 After I wrote last, I saw the comet. But he seemed 
 to me but an insignificant luminary, though I dare 
 say we have no reason to wish for a nearer ac- 
 quaintance with him. I do not know anything as to 
 his position with regard to the Great Bear. I only saw 
 that he looked not very far from a certain stack of 
 chimneys. 
 
 ' Yesterday (Sunday) the grass in a public garden 
 near here took fire in the middle of the day, when 
 nobody was in it — by spontaneous combustion.' 
 
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 365 
 
 ' 59 PtTLTENET Steeet, Bath, 6 Nov., 1874. 
 
 ' My only very serious concern is the steadily pro- 
 gressing failure of my eyesight. Already the dreadfully 
 short mornings, which seem to pass like flashes of 
 lightning, have become practically my whole day; for 
 in the evening I can only read, not the book I want, 
 but one in large print. And this must go on from bad 
 to worse, until I shall most probably find myself tan- 
 talized by an abundance of books, for which I have the 
 keenest appetite, without the power of gratifying it. I 
 - learn to appreciate the good- will of St. Paul's Galatians, 
 though suspecting that they were not sorry to be unable 
 to make the sacrifice.' 
 
 ' I believe what you say about the eyes is generally 
 true, but does not apply to all cases alike, and that I 
 shall only know when I have undergone the operation 
 how far it does to mine. At present I depend entirely 
 on my left eye ; for all practical purposes the other is 
 gone, and I should do better without it. Writing does 
 not fatigue me, but it torments me, as when I put pen 
 to paper I am never sure of hitting the point I aim at, 
 and in correcting a misprint am always liable to strike 
 
 out the wrong letter I have been for some time 
 
 stationary, and do not expect ever to experience the 
 feeling of convalescence, but shall be quite content if 
 my sight is spared ' 
 
 'You will be glad to hear that my oculist — a very 
 distinguished man — having inspected my eyes, en- 
 courages me to hope that the good one will for a long 
 
366 BISHOP THIELWALL'S 
 
 time do duty for both — so long, indeed, that, unless I 
 live much longer than I have any right to expect, I may 
 never need an operation at all;' 
 
 'As you take an interest in the dispute between 
 Gladstone, on the one side, and Manning and Capel on 
 the other, if you have my last Charge, I wish you would 
 look at pp. 14, 15, and read an extract which I give in a 
 note from " Friedrich's Journal." ' ^ 
 
 '59 Pflteney Street, Bath, 20 Nov., 1874. 
 
 ' . . . . There are three Leaders in the " Times " on 
 the controversy raised by Gladstone — all among the 
 best it has ever had. But I have not seen anywhere 
 any notice taken of what seem to me the decisive 
 passages which I quoted. I can hardly think that 
 Gladstone himself knew of them.' 
 
 It may be a fitting close to this correspondence to 
 add a letter which he himself wrote at an earlier stage 
 of it: — 
 
 ' .... I send you a scrap of poetry, which is a 
 puzzle to myself. I found it on a small loose piece of 
 paper, and the corrections show clearly that it was not 
 a copy, but represents a process of composition, so that 
 I have no doubt of my being the author, but I also feel 
 
 1 ' Friedrich Tagebuoh, p. 243, relates : " Manning now makes it his 
 business to demonstrate to every one who will give him a hearing, that 
 the Infallibility relates only to matters of dogma, not to the State. 
 But even Count Trautmannsdorft' observed to him that the words were 
 not simply quoad fidem, but also gtioad mores." Hemains, Literary and 
 Theological, of Oonnop Thirlwall — Charges. Vol. ii. p. 801 .' 
 
LETTERS TO A ERIEND. 367 
 
 sure that it is only a translation, most probably from a 
 German original 
 
 ' Yet say — and didst thou never stand 
 On some told height in this fair land, 
 A summer sky above thy head, 
 A lovely scene beneath thee spread. 
 Of vale and stream, of rock and glade, 
 All in soft play of light and shade. 
 Thy breast at ease from fear and care, 
 And thou alone to linger there ? 
 And gazing with enraptured eye, 
 "While pleasure swelled to ecstasy. 
 Until the bosom overflowed. 
 Didst thou not feel thy joy a load 
 Too hoavy for a single heart. 
 If friendship might not bear its part ? 
 And canst thou say, the happiest lot 
 On earth is his who needs it not ? 
 And is it in our saddest hour 
 We know the most of friendship's power ? 
 And only when the road is drear. 
 The sky o'ercast, or danger near. 
 And friends may serve to guard or guide. 
 That we would have them at our side ? 
 Then welcome sickness, welcome pain. 
 Bid giief admit thee of her train. 
 Bless all the ills that heaven may send 
 If with them it vouchsafe a friend. 
 Yet rather pray to feel the charm 
 Of friendship in a holy calm. 
 When every earthly want is filled, 
 And every earthly trouble stilled. 
 And not a longing left but this — 
 A faithful friend to share thy bliss. 
 In earth or heaven ? Ask it not. 
 The difference is then forgot.' 
 
APPENDICES. 
 
 APPENDIX A. 
 
 ' It was in the little hamlet of Llanferris, four miles south-west 
 of Mold, that I met the villager who told me the following 
 story. I was laying down on the ordnance map the line of 
 the lead-bearing lodes, which run transversely through the lime- 
 stone hills in a direction more or less east and west. 
 
 ' Following these metalliferous veins from east to west, I had 
 hitherto heen unable to find either of them extending into the 
 " blue rock,'' or clay slate, which lies on the west of the lime- 
 stone belt. But here, near the little church, I came upon a 
 small working in the clay slate. A villager told me that his 
 brother, the parish clerk, had made the discovery. Late one 
 summer evening, after a hard day's work, he was returning 
 home across the fields, and sat down under a hedge to rest. The 
 moon had risen, and shone out brightly. He was looldng across 
 the field, and, as he declared, not asleep, when he saw, at a short 
 distance in front of him, a ladder raised for two or three feet 
 above the ground, just as it is raised in an ordinary "footway" 
 or ladder-shaft. Presently he perceived a little mine-fairy ascend 
 the ladder, step by step. It was dressed like a miner. It carried 
 a small pickaxe over its shoulder, and was supplied with other 
 mining implements, but my informant did not mention that it 
 had any light. 
 
 ' When it reached the top of the ladder it got down, and 
 walked across the field to the opposite hedge, and then dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 16* 
 
370 APPENDIX B. 
 
 ' The clerk, on his return home, related his strange adven- 
 ture ; and the most remarkable thing connected with it is that, 
 upon the strength of his narrative, some few people about the 
 place should have had the faith to expend their money in a 
 mining trial on the spot where the little gnome had appeared, 
 and should have succeeded in finding stones, which I saw, and 
 which were indicative of the presence of the vein, although 
 they were not promising or metalliferous enough to induce 
 extended operations.' — Letter of W. W. Smph, Esq., to a Friend, 
 15 May, 1882. 
 
 APPENDIX B. 
 
 " King Henry the second having obtained, for two campaines 
 successively, considerable Advantages over the Irish, chiefly by 
 the Courage and Bravery of Eichard Clare, Earl of Pembroke 
 and Chepstow, and the Welsh under his Command, went him- 
 self into Ireland, in October 1172, to compleat the Eeduction of 
 that Kingdom, passing thro' "Wales, where, at Pembroke, he 
 thanked the Welsh for their Service, and told them that, in 
 great measure, the Success was owing to their ancient British 
 Courage and Valour. The Welsh, pleased with King Henry's 
 taking notice of their Loyalty, entertained him according to the 
 Dignity of a King, and wished him the Prosperity and Victory 
 that attended heretofore their great King Arthur, whose Exploits 
 one of their Bards, playing upon the Harp, sung^ to the King 
 whilst he was at dinner. In that Ballad mention was made of 
 the Place where King Arthur lay buried, which was there said 
 to be between two Pyramids, in the Holy Churchyard at Glas- 
 tonbury, many foot deep. 
 
 ' Henry the second (bearing a due regard to the Memory of 
 King Arthur, his renowned Predecessor), at his Eeturn out of 
 Ireland, acquainted Henry de Blois, at that time Abbat of Glas- 
 tonbury, with what he had learn't from the Ballad of the Bard, and 
 desired him to dig and search after the Bones of that Great King. 
 
 ' Leland's Collectanea, vol. v. pp. 60, 62, &c. 
 
APPENDIX B. 371 
 
 ' Henry de Blois searcht as he was ordered, and, according 
 to the report ^ of Stow and some other Writers, he found King 
 Arthur's Bones, towards the close of King Henry's Eeign. But, 
 according to Leland" and other Authors, they were not found 
 till the Year 1189. After King Richard the first came to 
 the Crown, and when Henry de Saliaco or Henry de SoUly 
 (as others call him) was Abbat, who, after the Abbey was burnt, 
 commanded Men to dig again between these two Pyramids, 
 and at seven foot deep * they found a huge broad Stone, where 
 on that side that lay'd downwards was found a thin Plate of 
 Lead, about a foot long, in the Form of a Cross,^ and on that 
 side of the Plate towards the Stone was engraven, in rude and 
 barbarous Letters, this Inscription : Hic jacbt sbpultus inclt- 
 Tus Eex Aetueius in insula Avalonia. And digging nine foot 
 deeper, his Body was found in a Trunk of a Tree, and near the 
 Bones of King Arthur were found those of his Wife, Queen. 
 Guinever, who, after her Husband's Death, retired either to the 
 Nunnery of ^ St. Julius the Martyr in Caerleon, or else to -that 
 of ° Ambrebury in Wiltshire, from one of which Places her Corps 
 was convey'd privately to Glastonbury, and there privately 
 buried in, or neer, her Husband's Grave. The. King's Bones 
 were of so great a Bigness that, when his Shin Bone was set to 
 the foot of a very tall Man, it reabhed three Fingers' breadth 
 above his Knee ; and in his Scull were perceived ten Wounds, 
 one whereof was very great, and look't upon to have been the 
 cause of his Death. The Queen's Body seem'd to be perfect and 
 whole, and her Hair was found to be neatly platted, and of the 
 colour of Burnisht Gold ; but her Corps being touched with the 
 Finger of one of the Spectators, it fell to Dust. 
 
 ' This is reported by Leland, Stow, Speed, Bishop Ushers and 
 
 ^ Stow's Chron., p. 55. ' Leland's Collectanea. 
 
 ' Idem, p. 51 ; Speed's Chron. in K. Arthur, and alii. 
 
 * This leaden cross was placed, by the command of the Abbot,, in the 
 Treasury, and there exposed and shown, as one of the curiosities of it, till 
 the Dissolution of the Abbey. 
 
 ' Creasy, lib. ii. cap. 26, p. 249. 
 
 ' Leland's Collectanea, vol. v. p. 47. 
 
372 APPENDIX B. 
 
 others from Giraldus Cambrensis, who is an Author of Eepute, 
 and was an Eye Witness to the matter of Fact. 
 
 'After the Spectators had gratified their curiosities, the 
 Abbat and his Monks, with great Satisfaction and Eeverence, 
 took all the Eemains of the two Bodies out of their separate 
 Coffins, and putting them into decent Chests made for the pur- 
 pose, they deposited them first in a Chappel in the South Alley 
 of the Church, till such time as a Monument suitable to the Dig- 
 nity of a King and Queen could be made for them, in the Middle 
 of the Presbytery of the Choir, where, in finishing the Church, 
 they Erected a stately Mausoleum of Touchstone, nobly engraven 
 on the Outside, in which they placed the King's Body by it self 
 at the head of the Tomb, and the Queen's at his feet, being the 
 East Side of it. On the West Side of the Tomb, that is to say, 
 where King Arthur's Bones were deposited, there was engraven 
 this Inscription : — 
 
 " Sicjacet Arturus, flos Begum, gloria Segni, 
 Quern mores, probitas commendarU laucU peremni." 
 
 ' And on the East Side, where Queen Guinever's were placed, 
 there was this Inscription : — 
 
 " Arturi jacet Mc conjux tumulata secimda, 
 Quse meruit coelos virtutum prole fecunda." 
 
 ' And here did the Eemainders of this Great King and his 
 Queen quietly rest some 85 Years ; at which time, that is to 
 say, in the Year 1278, King Edward the first and his Wife 
 Queen Elianor, partly out of Devotion, and partly out of 
 Curiosity, came to Glastonbury, attended by many of the 
 Topping Men of the Nation, Clergy as well as Nobility. 
 Whereupon the 19 th of April they caused King Arthur's 
 Tomb to be opened, and both the Shrines to be taken out of 
 the Monument, which when the Court and it's Attendance 
 had thoroughly viewed, King Edward opened the Shrine, 
 wherein King Arthur's Bones laid, and Queen Elianor the 
 Chest, wherein were those of Queen Guinever, and then each of 
 them taking the respective Bones out of their respective Chests, 
 they exposed them on two Credences, or Side Tables, neer the 
 
APPENDIX C. 373 
 
 High Altar, till the next Morning, for every one, that had a 
 mind, to gratify their Curiosity, and early the next Morning, 
 being the Wednesday before Easter, the King and Queen, -with 
 great Honour and Eespect, -wrapt up all the Bones (excepting 
 the two Sculls, which were set up and to remain in the Treasury) 
 in rich Shrouds or Mantles, and placed them again in their 
 separate Shrines, &c.' — The History and Antiquities of Glaston- 
 bury. Published by Thomas Hearne, M.A. Oxford : printed 
 at the Theatre, 1722. 
 
 APPENDIX C. 
 
 ' Mrs. Carlyle has become acquainted with a very interesting 
 young woman. Carlyle received a letter last summer from some 
 unknown admirer, thanking him for his works, which had been 
 the strength of her life ; it was written in a very enthusiastic 
 style, which I did not much affection. 
 
 ' Mrs. C. said she would call and see what the writer was 
 like, fancying her to be a rather austere, elderly, and not very 
 happy governess, or something of the kind. She drove to the 
 address, and found a tailor's shop — a small old-fashioned tailor, 
 the writer of the letter was his daughter, living with him and 
 doing the work of the house — no servant — a little old-fashioned 
 dark house in the Borough. She was pleased with her, invited 
 her to tea, and was very kiiid to her. You may fancy the 
 seventh heaven to which she wag raised." Euskin came in 
 whilst she was there, and took her home in his carriage. Mrs. 
 C. was charmed with the extreme propriety of her dress and 
 manner. She said she was all neutral tint until she was in- 
 terested or animated, and then very pretty. She took me to see 
 her. I confess I was not much interested hefore I went, but 
 when I saw her she charmed as well as surprised me. She 
 was dressed in gray linsey, very well but plainly made; her 
 manners composed, but with the subtle admixture of perfect 
 respect and self-possession, which was charming. Her tone of 
 voice and pronunciation refined and real ; a square strong fore- 
 head ; eyes one could scarcely see, they were so retired, till she 
 
374 APPENDIX D. 
 
 grew a little animated ; her nose strong and straight ; her teeth. 
 very good, but prominent. She looked very sensible. She was 
 remarkably graceful in her movements, very imaffected and 
 quiet, and all this the impress of the good books which had been 
 her sole companions. Her hair, I should tell you, was dark 
 auburn, verging on red, but very well placed and plenty of it. 
 It was an interesting visit, and I hope to see her again. The 
 room we were taken into wanted a good dusting/, but it was not 
 a common room, nor was there anything out of taste in it. 
 Her father is a nice little old man, like a withered apple. But 
 he is intelligent, and it was he who put her upon reading and 
 improving herself. They have rto servant, and she does all the 
 work of the house. Her sisters are aU away from home.' — 
 Letter of Miss Jewshury to a Friend, 2 January, 1866. 
 
 APPENDIX D. 
 
 ' The " Winchester Observer," a few years ago, published an 
 account of the " Tichbourne Dole," associated with one of the 
 very oldest Hampshire families. The legend teUs that, at 
 some remote period, a Lady Mabella, on her death-bed, be- 
 sought her lord, the Tichbourne of those days, to supply her 
 with the means for bequeathing a gift or dole of bread to any 
 one who should apply for it annually on the Feast of the 
 Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin. Sir Roger promised her 
 the proceeds of as much land as she coxdd go over while a 
 brand or billet of a certain size was burning. She was nearly 
 bedridden, and nearly dying, and her avaricious lord believed 
 that he had imposed conditions which would place within very 
 narrow limits the area of land to be alienated. But he was 
 mistaken. A miraculous degree of strength was given to her. 
 She was carried by her attendants into a field, where she crawled 
 round many goodliy acres. A field of twenty-three acres at Tich- 
 bourne to this day bears the name of the Crawl. The lady, just 
 before her death, solemnly warned her family against any depar- 
 ture from the terms of the Dole. She predicted that the family 
 
APPENDIX E. 375 
 
 name ■would iDecome extinct, and the fortunes impoverished, if 
 the Dole were ever withdrawn. 
 
 - ' The Tichbourne Dole, thus established, was regarded as the 
 occasion of an annual festival during many generations. It 
 was usual to bake 1,400 loaves for the Dole, of twenty-six ounces 
 each, and give twopence to any applicant in excess of the num- 
 ber that could be then served. This custom was continued tUl 
 about the middle of the last century, when, under pretence of 
 attending Tichbourne Dole, vagabonds, gypsies, and idlers of 
 every description assembled from all quarters, pilfering through- 
 oiit the neighborhood, and at last, in 1796, on account of the 
 complaints of the magistrates and gentry, it was discontinue'd. 
 This gave great offence to many who had been accustomed to 
 receive the Dole, and now arose a revival of old traditions. 
 The good Lady MabeUa, as the legend told, had predicted that 
 if the Dole should be withheld, the mansion would crumble 
 to ruins ; that the family name woxdd become extinct through 
 the failure of male heirs, and that this failure would be occa- 
 sioned by a generation of seven sons being followed by a gen- 
 eration of seven daughters. Singularly enough, the old house 
 partially fell down in 1803 ; the baronet of that day had seven 
 sons ; the eldest of these had seven daughters ; and the owner of 
 the family estates became a Doughty instead of a Tichbourne. 
 
 ' If this story be correctly told, it is certainly a very tempt- 
 ing one to those who have a leaning towards the number seven.' 
 — The Book of Days, edited by G. E. Chambers. 
 
 APPENDIX E. 
 
 Thomas Williams Malkin, born 1795, died when he was, 
 seven years old. He studied Greek, Latin, and French, and 
 wrote many letters, some poetryj and some febles. He invented 
 a history of an imaginary country, which he called Allestone. 
 He drew a map of it with extraordinary neatness. The names 
 of its towns and rivers were his own invention, and were beau- 
 tifully printed in his own hand. ' He endowed his kingdom most 
 
376 APPENDIX F. 
 
 liberally with universities The professors .... were 
 
 appoiated by name and numerous statutes were enacted 
 
 Political treatises, the discovery or improvement of arts, maxims 
 of government, and rules of life are all mentioned in appro- 
 priate terms, collected from books, and treasured up in a reten- 
 tive memory.' The manners, customs, and adventures of the 
 people of AUestone were also described. ' He had marked talent 
 for drawing, and amused himself by composing little landscapes 
 containing temples, bridges, trees, &c. He likewise attempted 
 dramatic composition,' and began a comic opera, noting down 
 the ' supposed airs in musical characters, with a treble and bass.' 
 The child died of an attack of inflammation; but in conse- 
 quence of its being supposed that over-brain work was the cause 
 of death, there was a post-mortem examination, and it was found 
 that ' the skull was capacious and full, and the brain unusually 
 large. It appeared to be in the most healthy state, and perfect 
 in all its parts .... and the general organization was so com- 
 plete as to have given the fairest promise of life and health.' — 
 lAfe of T. W. Malkin, by his Father, Dr. Malkin. 
 
 APPENDIX F. 
 
 'English residents at Baghdad have a great opportunity of 
 domesticating wild animals, as the banks of the Tigris and the 
 neighboring Persian mountains abound with "ferae naturae,'' 
 which are constantly brought in for sale when quite young. 
 
 'Amateurs may thus make their selection &om lions, 
 leopards, chitas, hysenas, wolves, maral (or red deer), rdmas (or 
 moufflon), gazelles, ostrich, &c I have tried them aU, but 
 prefer young lions as the most docile and affectionate of all 
 possible pets. I had one special favorite of this class, who 
 followed me about like a dog, slept on my pillow, and lay on a 
 rug at my feet when I was at work in my Office. One day, in 
 1847, I found my little pet in this position, restless and 
 troublesome. He gnawed at the rug, and even made a feint of 
 scratching my feet ; so I called for the "ferash" who had charge 
 of him, to take him away to the stables ; but to my astord^- 
 
APPENDIX G. 377 
 
 ment the little rascal resisted, and after a good deal of growling, 
 which I had never heard him indulge in before, took up his 
 station under my chair, from whence he positively refused to 
 move. Being too busy to join in the fray, I then sent the man 
 away, and left the lion in possession of his den j but no sooner 
 was the coast clear than he crept out from under the chair, 
 again nestled at my feet, rubbed his chin against my knees, 
 and uttered a plaintive, reproachful whine, which was quite 
 touching. 
 
 'I put my hand down and stroked and patted him, and 
 having thus made it up, went on with my writing. Half an 
 hour thus passed, when, observing that he was very stiU, I 
 again put down my hand, and found to my great distress that 
 the poor little fellow was dead, his body on my feet, and his 
 head still upon my knees. He had felt himself dying (the 
 doctor said it was from an attack of fever), and would not, 
 therefore, be taken away from me ; hence his resistance to' the 
 " ferash," whom he usually obeyed implicitly. I buried him in 
 the Orange Garden at the back of the Baghdad Eesidency, and 
 long mourned his loss, for he was reaUy a most engaging and 
 affectionate companion ; but in due course he was replaced by a 
 young leopard, whom I also tamed and ultimately brought to 
 England, and who, though immured in the Zoological Gardens 
 at Clifton, continued to his dying day to be as fond and faithful 
 to his old master as the best-bred Newfoundland dog. A leopard 
 once thoroughly broken wUl remain tame all his life ; but a 
 lion is hardly to be trusted after he is two, or at most, three 
 years of age. When our Baghdad pet Uons arrived at that age, 
 we used to make them over to the Pasha, who thenceforward 
 kept them chained up like dogs in the Palace Yard.' — Letter of 
 Sir Henry Bawlinson, 14 February, 1881. 
 
 APPENDIX G. 
 
 Geraldine Jewsbury, bom in August 1812, died in London 
 in September 1880 and was buried in the Brompton Cemetery, 
 
378 APPENDIX G. 
 
 in the same grave whicli contained the remains of her friend 
 Sydney, Lady Morgan. She lost her mother very early in life, 
 and was brought up by a sister several years older than herself, 
 and who was herself also a clever woman, and the author of a work 
 of some promise, entitled ' Phantasmagoria.' The education of 
 Miss Jewsbury was peculiar, and while she was not permitted 
 to read works of light literature, she was allowed to read, it is 
 presumed in translations, the works of Plato, Aristotle's Ethics, 
 and Shelley's prose as well as poetical works. Her- father 
 being unsuccessful in his career. Miss Jewsbury took her life 
 into her own hands, came to London from Manchester, where 
 she had been living, and commenced a literary career when still 
 almost a girl, which she followed untU within a month of her 
 death. Her novel 'Zoe' produced a sensation, and certainly 
 showed evidence of an intellect and mode of thought of no con- 
 ventional type j but it must not be understood to express the 
 opinions of her after-years, as she was ca,reful to inform her 
 friends. ' Zoe ' was succeeded by other works, ' Marion Withers,' 
 'The Sorrows of Gentility,' and 'The Half Sisters.' She also 
 edited, in conjunction with Mr. Hepworth Dixon, ' The Memoirs 
 of Sydney, Lady Morgan.' Since her death, the 'Eeminiscences 
 of Carlyle' have been published, one of the most interesting 
 chapters of which was contributed by Miss Jewsbury, who was 
 for many years the intimate friend of Mrs. Carlyle. Miss 
 Jewsbury was also, for some years, a contributor to ' The 
 Athenaeum,' and when changes were made in that paper, and 
 she ceased to write for it, she became a reader for two of the 
 large publishing houses, and her last literary work was a report 
 upon a manuscript. She was a woman of considerable energy, 
 spirit, and judgment, with a clear, incisive intellect, which 
 readily enabled her to discern the merits of a work. The 
 numerous friends who remained attached to her throughout her 
 life testify to the worth of her character ; and one of the latest 
 visits made by Mr. Carlyle was made to Miss Jewsbury within a 
 few weeks of her death. 
 
APPENDIX H. 379 
 
 APPENDIX H. 
 
 A letter of Admiral Sir Frederick Beaufort, -written at the 
 request of Dr. Wollaston, published in Sir John Barrow's 
 'Autobiography,' relates that when a youth at Portsmouth 'he 
 capsized a very small boat by stepping on the gunwale in an 
 endeavor to fasten her alongside the ship to one of the scuttle- 
 rings,' 1 and being unable to swim he sank at once. What fol- 
 lowed is thus described by himself : — 
 
 'So far these facts were either partially remembered after 
 my recovery, or supplied by those who had latterly witnessed 
 the scene ; for during an interval of such agitaitioD, a drowning 
 person is too much occupied in catching at^ every passing 
 straw, or too much absorbed by alternate hope and despair, to 
 mark the succession of events very accurately. Not so, how- 
 ever, with the facts which immediately ensued ; my mind had 
 then undergone the sudden revolution w^iich appeared to you 
 so remarkable, and aU. the circumstances of which are now as 
 vividly fresh- in my memory as if they had occurred but yester- 
 day. From the moment that all exertion had ceased — which I 
 imagine was the immediate consequence of complete sufiFocation 
 — a calm feeling of the most perfect tranquillity superseded the 
 previous tumultuous sensations — it might be called apathy, 
 certainly not resignation, for drowning no longer appeared to 
 be an evU. I no longer thought of being rescued, nor was I in 
 any bodily pain. On the contrary, my sensations were now of 
 rather a pleasurable cast, partaking of that dull but' contented 
 sort of feeling which precedes the sleep produced by fatigue. 
 Though the senses were thus deadened, not so the mind ; its 
 activity seemed to be invigorated in a ratio which defies all 
 description, for thought rose above thought with a rapidity of 
 succession that is not only indescribable, but probably incon- 
 ceivable by any one who has not himself been in a similar situa- 
 tion. The course of those thoughts I can even now in eif great 
 measure retrace — the. event which had just taken place, the 
 .awkwardness that had produced it, the bustle it must have 
 
 1 See Biographical Sketches, by Miss Martineau. 
 
380 APPENDIX H. 
 
 occasioned, (for I had observed two persons jump from the 
 chains), the effect it would have on a most affectionate father, 
 the manner in which he would disclose it to the rest of the 
 family, and a thousand other circumstances minutely associated 
 with home were the first series of reflections that occurred. 
 They took then a wider range — our last cruise, a former voyage 
 and shipwreck, my school, the progress I had made there, and 
 the time I had misspent, and even all my boyish pursuits and 
 adventures. Thus travelling backwards, every past incident of 
 my life seemed to glance across my recollection in retrograde 
 succession, not, however, in mere outline, as here stated, but 
 the picture fiUed up with every minute and collateral feature. 
 In short, the whole period of my existence seemed to be placed 
 before me in a kind of panoramic review, and each act of it 
 seemed to be accompanied by a consciousness of right or wrong, 
 or by some reflection on its cause or its conseqiuences ; indeed, 
 many trifling events which had been long forgotten then 
 crowded into my imagination, and with the character of 
 recent familiarity. May not all this be some indication of 
 the almost infinite power of memory with which we may 
 awaken in another world, and thus be compelled to contem- 
 plate our past lives 1 Or might it not in some degree warrant 
 the inference that death is only a change or modification of 
 our existence, in which there is no real pause or interrup- 
 tion 1 But, however that may he, one circumstance was 
 highly remarkable — that the innumerable ideas which flashed 
 into my mind were aU retrospective. Yet I had been religiously 
 brought up. My hopes and fears of the next world had lost 
 nothing of their early strength ; and at any other period, in- 
 tense interest and awful anxiety would have been excited by 
 the mere probability that I was floating on the threshold of 
 eternity : yet, at that inexplicable moment, when I had a full 
 conviction that I had already crossed that threshold, not a 
 single thought wandered into the future — I was wrapt entirely 
 in the past. The length of time that was occupied by this 
 deluge of ideas, or rather the shortness of time into which 
 they were condensed, I cannot now state with precision; yet 
 
APPENDIX H. 381 
 
 certainly two minutes could not have elapsed feom the moment 
 of suffocation to that of my being hauled up. The strength of 
 the flood-tide made it expedient to puU the boat at once to 
 another ship, where I underwent the usual vulgar process of 
 emptying the water by letting my head hang downwards, then 
 bleeding, chafing, and even administering gin; but my sub- 
 mersion had been really so brief, according to the account of 
 lookers-on, 1 was very quickly restored to animation. My 
 feelings, while life was returning, were the reverse in every 
 point of those which have been described above. One single 
 but confused idea — a miserable belief that I was drowning — 
 dwelt upon my mind, instead of the miiltitude of clear and 
 definite ideas which had recently rushed through it ; a helpless 
 anxiety, a kind of continuous nightmare, seemed to press heavily 
 on every sense, and to prevent the formation of any one distinct 
 thought, and it was with difficulty that I became convinced that 
 I was really alive. Again, instead of being absolutely free from 
 aU bodily pain, as in my drowning state, I was now tortured by 
 pain all over me; and though I have been since wounded in 
 several places, and have often submitted to severe surgical dis- 
 cipline, yet my sufferings were at that time far greater, at least 
 in general distress. On one occasion I was shot in< the lungs, 
 and after lying on the deck at night for some hours, bleeding 
 from other wounds, I at length fainted. Now, as I felt sure 
 that the wound in the lungs was mortal, it will appear obvious 
 that the overwhelming sensation which accompanies fainting 
 must have produced a perfect conviction that 1 was then in the 
 act of dying. Yet nothingi in the least resembling the opera- 
 tions of my mind when drowning then took place ; and when 
 I began to recover, I returned to a clear conception of my real 
 state.' 
 
382 APPENDIX I. 
 
 APPENDIX I. 
 
 St. Govan's Bell. 
 
 Where the wild cliff scenery of South Wales is broken into 
 clefts and hollows there is a narrow gorge among the rocks, 
 some five or six miles from Pembroke, which opens into a wide 
 bay. In this gorge are the ruins of St. Govan's Chapel, which 
 was built right across it, entirely blocking it up, so that the 
 only approach from the cliff to the beach is through the build- 
 ing itself, down rough stone steps cut in the limestone, which 
 lead from the level downs above through the chapel to the 
 beach. They end near a well bubbling up clear and fresh close 
 to the sea, and by the well is a large stone. These .steps, it is 
 believed, can never be counted aright. The number of them 
 reckoned from the top is never the same as that reckoned from 
 the bottom of the gorge. St. Govan is said to have built the 
 chapel, but the place was hallowed before his time, because the 
 rock against which the eastern wall of the chapel was after- 
 wards built opened, according to tradition, to admit an earlier 
 saint who was flying from his pagan enemies, and then closed 
 upon him so that his pursuers, seeing nothing but a bare rock, 
 passed on. When they were at a safe distance it opened, and 
 the saint was released. The cavity, however, remains to this 
 day, and is entered through an arched door in the chapel. It 
 was said to contract and expand to the size<of the persons who 
 entered it, and if they turned round within it, wishing as they 
 turned with steadfast purpose, their wishes would be fulfilled, 
 but any wavering in the wish defeated its fulfilment. The little 
 cell is worn by the touch of many visitors. St. Govan spent 
 many hours there in prayer. A spring rises near its entrance, 
 with a very small flow of water. This spring and the well by 
 the sea were supposed to have curative properties. Cripples 
 laid their crutches on the altar of the chapel, and 6ther simple 
 votive offerings were left there by sufferers who had benefited 
 by the healing waters. The hermit St. Govan is believed to 
 
APPENDIX I. 383 
 
 have been buried under the altar of his chapel. It was a 
 simple building of no architectural beauty, but it had one 
 great treasure. From its open belfry hung a beautiful silver 
 bell, so clear and sweet and fuU in tone that it was heard far 
 out to sea in the early dawn and the late evening, and it could 
 be seen far away over the water shining in the sun. Tradi- 
 tion says that St. Govan was a holy hermit, hospitable and 
 venerated. Sailors who passed by that coast came for water 
 from his holy well, and the saint always made them welcome. 
 One day a crew of pirates landed by the well. They were met 
 by the saint, who took them into the chapel, where they did 
 not fail to see and cov.et the silver bell. They returned to their 
 ship and waited until night, when the saint was sleeping, and 
 aU but the low soft beat of the waves upon the beach was still. 
 Then they landed, went stealthily up to the chapel, and climbed 
 the roof, removed the bell, and proceeded tp carry it down to 
 the sea. But at every step the beU grew heavier and heavier, 
 so that its burden became unbearable, and they were forced to 
 stop at short intervals and to lay it down on the stones by the 
 way while they rested. Each stone, as the bell touched it, gave 
 out a melodious note like fairy music. The pirates toiled to 
 their ship with their treasure, weighed anchor, and set sail. It 
 was a bright moonlight night — not a cloud to be seen in the 
 sky, and the sea was perfectly calm — when a sudden tempest 
 rose swift and dark. The ship, pressed down as if by an irre- 
 sistible weight, sank in the troubled sea, and aU on board 
 perished. That same night the bell was borne through the 
 air by spirits and enclosed in the large stone which is near 
 the holy well by the sea. "Whenever this stone, or any one of 
 the stones the bell touched, is struck, it rings out a clear 
 sweet note, like the sound of the beU. itself in St. Govan's time 
 long ago. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 ABE 
 
 A BERATRON, 82. 
 
 Abergwili, Church monument 
 to Bishop Davis, 12. 
 
 — Library, 363. 
 About, Edmond, 13, 104. 
 Abraham, legend concerning, 63, 
 
 H. 
 Abyssinian Expedition, 154, 170, 
 
 183. 
 Academy, Dinner at the Eoyal, 262. 
 Addison, 202. 
 Address from the Throne, the 
 
 (1867), 112, 257. 
 Africa, 53. 
 Age, characteristic enjoyments of, 
 
 240. 
 
 — small quantity of food requisite 
 in old, 341. 
 
 Alacogue, Marie, 352. 
 
 Alexander VI., 320. 
 
 Alford, Dean, 204. 
 
 Amadeus, King, 350. 
 
 America, Miss Murray's ' Letters ' 
 
 from, 48-50, 53-54. 
 American States (South), vitality 
 
 of the, 214. 
 
 — War, fatal folly of the, 103. 
 Amphitrite, Wreck of the, 115. 
 Ancyra, stone of, 8, 12. 
 Andersen, Hans Christian, 156, 348. 
 Angelo, Michael, 'Entombment' in 
 
 National Gallery attributed to, 
 
 220, 221, 222. 
 Annular eclipse of 1822 or 1823, 
 
 121. 
 Anthem, dramatic, arranged by 
 
 Elvey, 131. 
 
 Antonelli, 11, 308, 312. 
 
 Antwerp, French designs upon, 84. 
 
 Anubis, the god, 316. 
 
 Arab superstition, 337. 
 
 Argyll, Duchess of, 222. 
 
 — Duke of, 317. 
 Armada, Spanish, 40. 
 'Armadale,' 53, 66. 
 Armagh, Archbishop of, 111. 
 Armenia, 12. 
 
 Arnold, Matthew, 102, 152. 
 
 — Essay on ' Celtic Literature,' 66, 
 86. 
 
 — on Eug(Snie de Guerin and 
 Sainte-Beuve, 102. 
 
 — Anarchy and Authority, 157. 
 
 — Philistines, 249, 250. 
 Arthur, King, 329, 370-373. 
 
 — Essay on (Herbert Coleridge), 
 18, 19. 
 
 — ' Le Morte d' Arthur,' 18, 
 
 — his historical personality, 19-21. 
 
 — Prince, 130. 
 
 Asgre, meaning of word, 339. 
 Ashburton, Lord, 85. 
 Assolant, 198. 
 AthencRum, The, 213, 340. 
 Atkinson, ' Travels on the Amour, 
 
 189. 
 Augustus, Caesar, 12. 
 Aumale, Due d', 231. 
 Austerlitz, 164, 168. 
 Austin, Mrs., 103, 114, 145. 
 Austrian Cession of Venetia, 84. 
 ' Avonhoe,' 190. 
 Azeglio, Massimo d', 134. 
 
 — 'I miei Ricordi,' 122, 134. 
 
 17 
 
386 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 BAG 
 
 ■RAGEHOT, article written by 
 
 ■*-' Mr., 234. 
 
 Baghdad, 376-377. 
 
 Baker, Sir Samuel, ' Travels,' 85. 
 
 Barometrical observation, a curi- 
 ou8| 62. 
 
 Basevi, 198. 
 
 Basques, W. o. Humboldt's essay 
 on the, 86. 
 
 Bath, 363, 364. 
 
 Bayne, Mrs., 56. 
 
 Beale's people, meeting of, 112- 
 113. 
 
 Beatrice, Princess, 131. 
 
 Beaufort, Admiral, 315, 316, 879- 
 381. 
 
 Beaumaris, 7, -9, 270, 271. 
 
 Belgium, the King of, 23. 
 
 Bell, ' Jockey,' 236. 
 
 Bengore Head, 40. 
 
 Bennett, Mr., 286. 
 
 Berry, Miss, 'Journal and Letters,' 
 48, 53, 56, 57, 61. 
 
 Betham-Edwards, Miss, Kitly, 221. 
 
 Birds, 199, 213. (/See also Tycoon.) 
 
 Bismark, Prince, 83, 84, 278, 303. 
 
 Blacas collection of gems, 117, 118- 
 119. 
 
 Black Sea Conference, 303. 
 
 Blackie, Professor, 229. 
 
 Blackmore, R. D. (' Cradock No- 
 well'), 53. 
 
 Blanc's ' Lettres sur I'Angleterre,' 
 78-79. 
 
 Blois, Henry de, 370-371. 
 
 Blucher, Countess, 130. 
 
 Bochsa, 224. 
 
 Boeckh, 229. 
 
 Bohemian Language and Litera- 
 ture, Society at Prague for the 
 Cultivation of, 246. 
 
 Boileau, 202. 
 
 Bomba, King, 263. 
 
 Boniface VIII., 11, 818, 820. 
 
 Bonover, old name for Beau- 
 maris, 7. 
 
 Boscobel, 9. 
 
 Bowyer, Sir George (etymology of 
 Grail), 255. 
 
 Boxall, Mr., 222, 258. 
 
 Boxhorn, 150. 
 
 Bramah's pens, 68. 
 
 CAP 
 
 Bremer, Fredrika, anecdote of a . 
 bird, 199. 
 
 Breton Congress, 27, 30, 145, 146. 
 
 Bright, John, 70, 114, 117. 
 
 British Museum Library, 'found 
 wanting,' 110. 
 
 Brittany, destruction of Druid re- 
 mains in, 213, 214. 
 
 Brixham Meet, 61. 
 
 Brooke, Stopford, sermon on Im- 
 mortality, 343. 
 
 Browning, Robert, 118, 330. 
 
 Buchanan's ' Napoleon Fallen,' 287. 
 
 Buckingham Palace, concert at, 
 223. 
 
 Buddhism, coupled with Roman- 
 ism, 336. 
 
 Bunbury, Sir Charles, 59. 
 
 Bunsen, Baron v., 13, 66. 
 
 'Memoks' of, 72, 179, 181, 
 
 182. 
 
 his likeness to Napoleon L, 
 
 182 
 
 — Baroness, 181, 187. 
 
 — Ernest de, 142, 223, 273. 
 
 — Hilda He, 223. 
 
 — Rev. Henry de, 223. 
 Buonapar^p, Prince Pierre, 254. 
 Burgon, Dean of Chichester, 251, 
 
 337, 338. 
 Burlington House Exhibition, 258, 
 
 287. 
 Bute, Marquis of (a Cuyp in his 
 
 possession), 258. 
 Buxton, Charles ('The Ideas of 
 
 the Day on Policy'), 70, 71. 
 Byron, Lord, 116. 
 
 riiESAR (Napoleon HI.), 27, 30. 
 ^^ Cambridge, the Duke of, 
 384. 
 
 — the town of, 148, 226, 227. 
 Campbell, J. E. (' Popular Tales of 
 
 the Western Highlands '), 8. 
 Canaletto, 232. 
 Canterbury, 148. 144. 
 
 — Translation of Bishop of Lon- 
 don (Dr. Tait) to, 204. 
 
 — Archbishop of, 204, 225. 
 Canvassing letters, 67. 
 Capel, 866. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 387 
 
 CAP 
 
 Capetown, Bishop of, 132, 133, 135, 
 
 204. 
 Carlyle, Mrs., 373, 378. 
 
 — Thomas, 85, 286, 373, 378. 
 Carnliuanawc, Rev. T. Price, 21. 
 Carpenter, Dr., 317-319. 
 Camck-a-rede, 40. 
 
 Catalani, 224. 
 
 Cato, 291, 295-297. 
 
 Cats, 223, 322, 323. 
 
 Causeway, Giant's, 40. 
 
 Cawdor, Countess of, 131. 
 
 ' Celtic Literature,' Essay on, by 
 Matthew Arnold, 66, 86. 
 
 Cerigo, 110. 
 
 Chaos, 184, 212, 245, 284-285, .326. 
 
 Charge (1867), attacks on Bishop 
 Thirlwall's, 121, 122, 124-126, 
 182. 
 
 his opinion of it, 124, 128. 
 
 Reply to attacks on, 239. 
 
 Charges, 133, 341, 349. 
 
 Charity Elections, organization of, 
 67. 
 
 Charles I., 4, 144, 263. 
 
 Charterhouse, 223, 267. 
 
 Chidlow, Mr., 356-357. 
 
 Child, story of a, 156. 
 
 Chios, 110. 
 
 Christian view of death, supposed 
 contrast between the heathen- 
 philosophical and the, 290-294. 
 
 Christian, Princess, 130, 131. 
 
 — Prince, 130. 
 
 Christina, Queen of Sweden, 128. 
 Christmas Carol (Slavonic), on the 
 
 creation of the world, 241. 
 Chronique de la Quinzaine, 298, 303. 
 Churchill, Lady, 130. 
 Cicero, 61. 
 
 — his view of death, 291. 
 Clark, Archdeacon, 217. 
 
 — Miss, 199, 213, 265. 
 
 (' Lost Legends of the Nur- 
 sery Songs'), 248. 
 
 Anita, 248. 
 
 Clifford, Roman Catholic Bishop, 
 27. 
 
 Coa;l, 313, 349. 
 
 Cobbe, Miss, 319, 322. 
 
 — Article on ' Unconscious Cere- 
 bration,' 322. 
 
 DAB 
 
 Cobden, Richard, 324. 
 Coins, theory as to British, 121. 
 Col de Tende; affair of the, 167. 
 Colenso, Bishop, 19. 
 Coleraine, 40. 
 Coleridge, 44. 
 
 — Herbert (' Le Morte d'Arthur'), 
 18, 19. 
 
 Collins, Wilkie ('Armadale'), 53, 
 66. 
 
 ' Colbnna Inf ame,' 103. 
 
 Comet of 1874, 363, 364. 
 
 Conde Lucanor, El, 178. 
 
 Confucius, 252, 253. 
 
 Conington, his translation of Hor- 
 ace quoted, 291, 292. 
 
 Consalvi's ' Mdmoires,' 162. 
 
 Constitution, The English, 234-235. 
 
 Contemporary Review, 78, 158, 805, 
 326. 
 
 Convocation, 262. 
 
 — Guardian's reports of, 71. 
 CornhiU Magazine, 47, 59, 66, 157, 
 
 177, 191, 335. 
 
 Cornwall, 30. 
 
 Council of Trent, The, 267-268. 
 
 Cox and Jones, Romances of Middle 
 Ages, 329. 
 
 'Cradock Nowell' (R. D. Black- 
 more), 53. 
 
 Crecy, supposed incident at Battle 
 of, 116. 
 
 Criticism, literary, remarks on, as 
 the subject of an essay, 189, 190, 
 201, 202. 
 
 Croker, Crofton, Mr., 0. 
 
 Cromwell, 264. 
 
 Cross, sj'mbol of the, 322. 
 
 CuUen, Cardinal, 276. 
 
 Cyclone, the (1865), 22. 
 
 Cyril of Alexandria. 356. 
 
 Cythera, 110. 
 
 "DALLAS, 202. 
 
 -^ Daller, 274. 
 
 Damnatory Clauses, The, 340. 
 
 Dante, 81, 82. 
 
 Darnley, 252, 264. 
 
 Darn's 'Histoire de Venise,' 110- 
 
 111. 
 Darwin, 61. 
 
388 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 DAS 
 
 Dasent, 3. 
 
 Davis, Bishop, 12, 13. 
 
 — Edward, his bust of Bishop 
 Thirlwali and other worlis, 12 
 
 footnote; 41. 
 
 — Jefferson, 219. 
 Dawn in London, 2S1. 
 Deafness, suffering incidental to, 
 
 137. 
 Death, view of sympathy in case of 
 loss by, 14-16. 
 
 — supposed contrast between the 
 heathen-philosophical and the 
 Christian view of, 290-292, 293, 
 294. 
 
 — Cato's view of, 291. 
 
 — Cicero's view of, 291. 
 
 — Horace's view of, 291, 292. 
 
 — the Stoics' view of, 291. 
 
 — the Epicureans' view of, 291, 
 292. 
 
 — St. Paul's view of, 292. 
 
 — Socrates' view of, 292. 
 
 — a law and a punishment, 298, 
 305-307. 
 
 Depravity, human, 151, 152. 
 Deputation to Pope Pio IX., 299- 
 
 301. 
 Derby, Earl of, 28, 112, 183, 184. 
 Desmoulins, Camille, 174. 
 Deutsch, Emanuel, 158. 
 Dickens, Charles, 323. 
 Disraeli, Benjamin, 117, 145, 190, 
 
 204, 206, 207, 208, 221. 
 
 his ' Lothair,' 266, 271, 277. 
 
 Dixon, Hepworth ('New America'), 
 
 122, 378. 
 DoUinger, 313. 
 Domitian, 165. 
 D6v6, Professor, 239. 
 Dowden, Professor, 305. 
 Dragonetti, 224. 
 Dream of Tiberius, 148. 
 Dreams, moral judgment in, 822. 
 Dr6me, unfulfilled prediction of M. 
 
 Matthieu de la, 7. 
 Druid remains in Brittany, 213, 
 
 214. 
 Ducange, 150. 
 Dudley, Lord, 164. 
 Dumas, Alexandre ('Impressions 
 
 de Voyages '), 102, 103. 
 
 EYE 
 
 Dunluce, 40. 
 
 Dutch novel contrasted with a Ger- 
 man novel, 155-157. 
 
 TjiAEIANELL, 8. 
 
 -^ ' Earthly Paradise ' ( William 
 
 Morris), 209, 247, 248, 326, 
 
 337. 
 Ebrington, Lord, 168. 
 ' Ecce Homo,' 64, 158. 
 Edinburgh Review, 102, 283. 
 — article on Geology in the (1870), 
 
 259. 
 Edward I., 7, 8, 9, 372, 37.3. 
 Edwardes, Mr., 339. 
 Eineon ap Meredydd, 8. 
 Eineou ap Tegerin, 8. 
 Eleanor, Queen, 372-373. 
 Elections, demoralizing influence 
 
 of contested, 67, 360. 
 Elgin, Earl of, 215, 216. 
 Elijah, E. W. Robertson's sermon 
 
 on, 71. 
 Eliot, George, ' Felix Holt,' 79. 
 
 • Spanish Gipsy,' 190. 
 
 ' Middleraarch,' 335, 336, 
 
 344. 
 Elliot (see Minto). 
 Elizabeth, Queen, 247, 249, 251, 
 
 252. 
 Elvey, Dr., anthem arranged by, 
 
 131. 
 Embankment, Thames, 145, 232. 
 Emerald, the, 337. 
 Enghien, Due d', 215. 
 'Entombment,' in National Gallery, 
 
 attributed to Michael Angelo, 
 
 220-222. 
 Epicureans, the, 291, 292. 
 Erckmann-Chatrian Story-books, 
 
 69, 134. 
 Errington, Boman Catholic Bishop, 
 
 27. 
 Essex, Countess of, 224. 
 ' Euthanasia,' 299. 
 Ex-Cathedr6, Declarations, 319- 
 
 821 
 Exeter Hall, 53. 
 Exhibition, Winter, at Burlington 
 
 House (1870), 2.58, 287. 
 Eyre, Governor, 54, 206. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 389 
 
 FAO 
 
 Tf ACINO, Mademoiselle Valesca 
 
 ■^ de, 226. 
 
 Faculty, a, 201. 
 
 Faithfulness, 148. 
 
 Falkland, Viscount, 80. 
 
 Fame and Glory, 164, 165. 
 
 Faraday, 275. 
 
 — Tyndall's lecture on, 160-162. 
 Favre, Jules, 277. 
 
 Felix Holt, 85. 
 
 Fenian plots, 159. 
 
 Ferdinand IV. of Naples, 263. 
 
 — VII. of Spain, 263, 350. 
 Fictions, ' transmigration of/ 261, 
 
 262. 
 Fidelity of servants, 24. 
 Finlen, 198. 
 
 Flamen, derivation of, 2. 
 Folk Lore, see Legends. 
 Forgiveness of sin and sins, 50, 
 
 51. 
 Forsyth, 77 footnote. 
 Forteseue, Earl, 225. 
 Fortnightly Review, the, 77, 78, 79, 
 
 228."^ 
 Fouc[ue, La Motte, 47. 
 France, 302, 350. 
 
 — belligerent spirit in, 273, 276, 
 303, 304. . 
 
 — ' Histoire de' (Henri Martin), 
 66, 104, 128, 249. 
 
 — Prince Imperial of, 30, 346, 
 347. 
 
 Franco-German War, 271-273, 276, 
 277, 304, 305, 324. 
 
 Franklin, Life of, 103. 
 
 Freeman, E. (' History of the Nor- 
 man Conquest '), 179. 
 
 French feeling towards the Ger- 
 mans, 271-273, 303, 304. 
 
 Frere, Miss (' Old Deccan Days '), 
 177. 
 
 Friedrich's Journal, 366. 
 
 Friendship, its exercise in cases of 
 bereavement, 14-16. 
 
 — its existence in a future state, 
 16, 17. 
 
 — verses on, 367. 
 Proissart, 5. 
 Froschammer, 313. 
 
 Froude, ' History of England,' 247, 
 248, 251, 252, 264. 
 
 GOE 
 
 Froude, his view of Queen Eliza- 
 beth, 247, 251; of Mary of 
 Scots, 264. 
 
 Furnival, Mr., 98. 
 
 Future state, reunion of friends in 
 a, 16, 17. 
 
 (GAINSBOROUGH, 232. 
 
 ^ Galatia, 12. 
 
 Gambold's Welsh Grammar and 
 Dictionary, 93. 
 
 Gaskell, Mrs. (' Wives and Daugh- 
 ters '), 47-59. 
 
 'Gates Ajar,' 342. 
 
 Gattina, Petrucelli della, 13. 
 
 Gaulle, Charles de, 286. 
 
 Geese, 119, 122, 123, 134, 245. 
 
 Geoffrey of Monmouth, 5. 
 
 Geology, article on, in the Edin- 
 burgh Review (1870), 259. 
 
 George III., 103. 
 
 — IV., 168. 
 
 German novel contrasted with a 
 
 Dutch novel, 155, 156. 
 Germans, French feeling towards 
 
 the, 271-273, 303, 304. 
 
 — naturally a peace-loving nation, 
 276. 
 
 Ghost, what is meant' by a, 138, 
 
 139. 
 Gibbon, 110. 
 Gioberti, 273. 
 Giraldus Cambrensis, 372. 
 Giustiniani, 110. 
 Glaciers, 213. 
 Gladestry, 351. 
 Gladstone, W. E., 206, 255, 283, 
 
 316, 324, 366. 
 his misplaced confidence in 
 
 human nature, 83. 
 article on ' Ecce Homo,' 158. 
 
 — — Resolutions on the Irish 
 Church question, 180-183. 
 
 his susceptibility, 206. 
 
 Glaisher, the aeronaut, 261. 
 Glastonbury, historical interest at- 
 taching to, 370-373. 
 Glory and Fame, 164, 166. 
 Gloucester, the Bishop of, 824. 
 Goethe, his character, 249. 
 
 — his selfishness, 176, 177. 
 
390 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 GOB 
 
 Gordon, Lady Duff (' Letters from 
 
 Egypt'), 95, 145. 
 Gosse, etymology of, 149-151. 
 GoTan, Legend of St., 328, 329, 
 
 882, 383. 
 Grail, 254-256. 
 
 — Holy (Alfred Tennyson), 248, 
 255, 256. 
 
 — etymology of, 255, 256. 
 Grant, Sir F., 328. 
 Gray's ' Bard,' 25. 
 Greece, King of, 137. 
 
 — ' History of ' (Bishop Thirl- 
 wall),428. 
 
 — Russian intrigues with, 214. 
 Greek, pronunciation of, 229. 
 Greeks, their national conceit, 303, 
 
 304. 
 Griflath, Dr., 283. 
 Grimm Bros., 3. 
 Grote, George, 131, 323, 328. 
 Gruffydd ap Evan, 8. 
 
 — Welsh Harper, 24, 25. 
 Gualterio ('Gli ultimi Riyolgimenti 
 
 Italian!'), 13. 
 Guardian, the, 71, 183, 289, 290, 
 
 336, 345. 
 Guerin, Eugenie de, 102, 108. 
 Guillemin, Amedee ( 'Le Soleil'), 
 
 259, 260. • 
 Guinever, Queen, 371-373. 
 Gwilt, Miss, 66. 
 
 TT ADRIAN IV., 320. 
 
 ^^ Hall, Mrs. S. C, 79. 
 
 Hallam, Henry, 115, 20^ 
 
 Hamlet, 297. 
 
 Hare, Archdeacon, 57, 68, 69. 
 
 Harvard Crew, the, 236. 
 
 Heathen-philosophical view of 
 
 death, supposed con trast between 
 
 the Christian and the, 290-294. 
 Henry 11., 320, 370, 371. 
 Herbelot ('Bibliothbciue Orien- 
 
 tale'), 63. 
 Herbert of Lea, Lady, 23. 
 Herbert of Llanarth, Captain Ivor, 
 
 coming of age of, 839, 342. 
 Hereford Times, the, 85S, 364. 
 Herschel, Sir John, 260. 
 Hertford, Marquis of, 232. 
 
 INQ 
 
 Holland, Lady, 325. 
 
 Holland, despotism of etiquette in, 
 
 157. 
 Horace, 291, 292. 
 Hosack, 264. 
 Houghton, Lady, 115. 
 
 — Lord, 64, 185, 218, 219, 221, 
 231 235 362 
 
 House of Lords, 159, 229, 234, 235. 
 Hugo, Victor, 222, 240, 241, 361. 
 Hulsean Lecture, Canon Per- 
 
 owne's, 215. 
 Humboldt, W. (Essay on the 
 
 Basques), 86. 
 Humor, 46, 47. 
 Hunt (' Popular Romances of the 
 
 West '), 30. 
 Huxley, Professor, 227, 228, 264, 
 
 265. 
 
 — Archbishop, 317. 
 
 TCEBERG hypothesis superseded, 
 ^ 139, 140. 
 
 — supposed effect on climate, 191. 
 Ignatius, Father, 58, 59. 
 Illusion, optical, 189. 
 
 / miei Ricordi, 134. 
 Index Expurgatorius, 266-268. 
 India, conduct of the English jn, 
 95. 
 
 — Russian designs upon, 214. 
 
 — Office Museum, 223. 
 
 Indian Legends, 72-75, 79, 80, 88, 
 
 89, 92, 193-195. 
 Indian Mutiny, the, 54. 
 Infallibility Decree, 271, 299-301, 
 
 307-312, 366. 
 
 — position of Roman Catholics and 
 others with regard to the, 299- 
 301, 354, 365, 3li6. 
 
 — unconscious of that position, 301, 
 807, 810. 
 
 — oath of allegiance affected by, 
 299-301. 
 
 — its retrospective action, 308, 309. 
 
 — Roman Catholics divided among 
 themselves on the question of 
 the, 271, 812, 313. 
 
 In Memariam, Tennyson's, 286. 
 Ingelow, Jean, 47. 
 Inquisition, the, 309, 320. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 391 
 
 INN 
 
 Innocent IV., 320. 
 Ireland, a voyage off coast of, 39- 
 41. 
 
 — religious aspect of the Franco- 
 German War in, 277. 
 
 Irish Church question, excit3ment 
 about the, 180. 
 
 — Gladstone's resolution, 183, 184, 
 358. 
 
 — many-sided, 196. 
 
 — a grievance, 197. 
 
 — view of the, 203. 
 
 — political poem on the, 207. 
 
 — Irish agrarian outrages not 
 connected with the, 224. 
 
 — speech on the, 230. 
 
 — bishops, 217. 
 
 — clergy, 208, 209. 
 
 — Roman Catholic priesthood, 207, 
 208. 
 
 — Fairy Legends, 6. 
 Italian Lakes, 125, 126. 
 Italian MSS., 109-111. 
 
 Italy, 76, 77, 80, 81, 112, 125, 126, 
 138-140. 
 
 — Protestant movement in, 19, 20. 
 
 — independence of, 83, 84. 
 
 JAFFA, poisoning of soldiers by 
 
 order of Napoleon I. at, 168. 
 Jamaica, Bishop of, 146. 
 
 — insurrection iny 54, 55, 206 foot- 
 note. 
 
 James, Dr., 2. 
 
 Jamieson, Dr., ' Scottish Diction- 
 ary,' 149. 
 Jason, 209. 
 
 Jesse (on George III.), 103. 
 Jesuits, works on the, 273, 274. 
 
 — their practice of adorning the 
 head of the Madonna, 118. 
 
 Jewsbury, Miss, 27, 85, 285, 287. 
 
 — her letter to a friend, 373, 374. 
 
 — her life and character, 377, 
 378. 
 
 ' Jockey Bell,' 236. 
 John, King, 301. 
 Johnson, Eeverdy, 219. 
 Jones, Basset, 2b footnote. 
 
 — Dr. Basil (Bishop of St. David's), 
 255. 
 
 LEO 
 
 Jones, Edward, 6. 
 
 — John (Idrisyn), 182, 327. 
 
 — W. B. (Cawrdaf), 133. 
 ' Julius Caesar,' 325. 
 Jupiter, the planet, 239. 
 
 XT AMES, Lord, 202. 
 
 Kean, Young contrasted with, 
 325. 
 
 Keble Memorial (Bishop of Ox- 
 ford's Sermon), 183. 
 
 Keightley, 6, 345. 
 
 Kemble School, the, 325. 
 
 Kensington Gallery, 79. 
 
 King, Lord, 120. 
 
 Kinglake (' Crimean War '), 211, 
 212, 248. 
 
 Kingsley, Charles, 140. 
 
 Koran, the, 63. 
 
 T ABLACHE,224. 
 
 -^ ' La Motte Fouqu^,' 47. 
 
 Landseer, Sir Edwin (Lions in Tra- 
 falgar Square), 117. 
 
 Lanf rey ( Histoire de Napoleon I. ), 
 162, 163, 190, 215. 
 
 ' Lardner's Encyclopsedia,' 128. 
 
 Lateau, Louise, 346, 347. 
 
 Laudanum, a dose of, 278. 
 
 Law Courts, designs for the, 114. ' 
 
 Lecky, 221, 290, 295-297. 
 
 Leeks, Welsh custom of wearing, 
 116. 
 
 Legends, Indian and European 
 (Magician of Toledo), illustrat- 
 ing the maxim, 'A base person 
 should not be raised to high es- 
 tate,' 88, 89-92. 
 
 — Indian, 72-75, 79, 80, 88, 89, 92, 
 193-195. 
 
 — concerning Abraham, 63, 64. 
 
 — mention of Welsh, 3-9. 
 
 — Slavonic, on the Creation of the 
 World, 241-247. 
 
 — Dutch, 345, 346. 
 
 — the Mine Fairy, 9, 369, 370. 
 
 — St. Govan, 328-329, 382-383. 
 
 — Tolls of Oomraj, 79-80. 
 
 — Tichboiirne Dole, 120, 374, 375. 
 
392 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 LEO 
 
 Legendary publications and tra- 
 ditions, 2-9, 72-75, 87-88. 88-89, 
 328-329, 370-373, 382-383. 
 
 Leland, 9, 370, 371. 
 
 Leonardo da Vinci, 258, 259. 
 
 Leopards, tame, 376-379. 
 
 Leopold, King of the Belgians, 23. 
 
 Lever, Charles, 157. 
 
 Lewes, G. H., 78, 79, 174, 344. 
 
 Lewis, Sir George, 336. 
 
 — Lady Theresa, 48, 56. 
 Lhuid, 151. 
 
 Life, a good thing, 358. 
 Lincoln, death of President, 28. 
 
 — (Wordsworth), appointment of 
 the Bishop of, 204. 
 
 Linnaeus, 147. 
 Lions, 237. 
 
 — tame, 376-377. 
 Littr(S, 256. 
 Lizards, 342. 
 
 Llanarth, Welsh motto of, 839. 
 Llandegai, antiquities of, 104. 
 Llanover, 339. 
 
 — Lady, 97, 98, 187, 339. 
 Llantony Abbey, 58-59. 
 Llewelyn, Prince, 42. 
 London, the, 61. 
 London, 31, 145, 231-233. 
 
 — preference of the country to, 
 76, 82, 159. 
 
 — Bishop of, 204. 
 Longfellow, H. W., 49. 
 Longshore Life at Boulahf quoted, 
 
 129. 
 Lonsdale, 152. 
 Lotti, 233. 
 Louis XIV., 310. 
 Louise, Princess, 130. 
 Love, S58, 359. 
 Lovelace, Earl and Countess, 120, 
 
 121. 
 Lowe, R., 83, 117. 
 Lubbock, Sir John (' Prehistoric 
 
 Times '), 47. 
 Lucanor, El Conde, 178. 
 Lucas, the lion-tamer, 237. 
 Lugel, 350. 
 Luther, 282. 
 
 Lyell, Sir Charles, 47, 81. 
 Lytton, Lord, 18, 351. 
 
 — ' King Arthur,' 21, 22. 
 
 MEN 
 
 Lytton, Lord, ' Essay on the Reign 
 of Terror,' 169, 173. 
 
 — View of Robespierre's charac- 
 ter, 174. 
 
 • IVr^BrNOGION, The,' 153. 
 -^'^ Macaulay, Lord, 44, 48, 115. 
 MacCoU, Malcolm, 345, 
 Mackonochie case, 166. 
 MacmiUan's Magazine, articles in, 
 
 53, 129, 264, 322, 346. 
 Madonna, Jesuitical practice of 
 
 adorning the head of the, 118. 
 Magician of Toledo, legend of, 88, 
 
 89-92, 178. 
 Mahomet, Life of, by Colonel 
 
 Muir, 132. 
 Malibran, 224. 
 Malkin, Thomas Williams, 254, 
 
 375, 376, 382, 383. 
 Mamoun Caliph, story of, 62. 
 Mann, Sir Horace, 360. 
 Manners, Lord John, 131, 144. 
 Manning, Cardinal, 26, 199, 312, 
 
 317-319, 324, 335, 366. 
 Manuscripts, Old Italian, 109-111. 
 Marat, 176. 
 
 Marcet, Mrs. (' Dialogues '), 61. 
 March, Mrs., 152. 
 Margam, 45. 
 Marie Alacoque, 352. 
 Martin, Henri, 2, 3, 30, 65, 66, 86, 
 
 104, 125, 128, 138, 214, 249, 349, 
 
 361. 
 — ' Histolre de France,' 66, 104, 
 
 128, 249. 
 Martineau, Harriet, 61. 
 Mary, Queen of Scots, 252, 264. 
 ' Mastland Manse,' 845, 346. 
 Maunsell, Mr., 59. 
 Mayo, Lord, 198. 
 
 Mayor, The Lord, French and Ger- 
 man ideas of tlie dignity of his 
 
 office, 198. 
 Melbourne, Viscount, 160, 161. 
 'M^moires d'un Protestant con- 
 
 damn£ aux Galferes,* 104. 
 Memory, 50, 815, 316. 
 ' Mendelssohn's Letters,' 47. 
 Mendez, Jos«, 237, 238. 
 Menelaus, 187. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 393 
 
 MEN 
 
 Menu, 252, 253. 
 
 Merchant Taylors' Hall, dinner at, 
 
 223, -225. 
 Merivale, Herman (' Historical 
 
 Studies'), 30. 
 Merlin's prophecies, 4, 5, 28. 
 Merode, H. 
 
 Metaphysics, 316-319, 323, 324. 
 Meteoric sliower, 151, 152. 
 Meteoroliths, 139. 
 Meyer, Dr. Carl, 13, 238, 239. 
 Michelet (' Insect Book '), 349. 
 ' Middlemarch,' 335, 336. 
 Mignet ('Notices Historiques'), 
 
 108. 
 Milan, 1.37. 
 Milky Way, 260. 
 Mill, J. S., 83, 198. 
 
 — speech on Female Suffrage, 141. 
 
 — his temperament, 205, 206. 
 
 — persecution of Gorernor Eyre, 
 206. 
 
 — his ' Autobiography ' and char- 
 acter, 357. 
 
 Millais, 140, 143. 
 
 Milman, Dean, 152, 153. 
 
 Milnes, 57, 115. 
 
 Mine Fairy, the, 9, 369, 870. 
 
 Minnesota, hurricane in, 849. 
 
 Minto, Countess ( ' Life of Elliot ), 
 238. 
 
 Mistakes, influence of, upon pres- 
 ent and future, 50. 
 
 Moltke, General, 839. 
 
 Montalembert, 282. 
 
 Montefiore, Sir Moses, 328. 
 
 Montell's ' Histoire des Eranfais 
 des divers ifctats/ 37. 
 
 Montlosier, 274. 
 
 Monumentum Ancyranum, 8, 12. 
 
 Moon, eclipse of the (1870), 272. 
 
 Moors, 63. 
 
 Morality, obligatory and spontane- 
 ous, 264, 265. 
 
 Morgan, Lady Sydney, 378. 
 
 Morris, William ('Earthly Para- 
 dise,' &c.), 209, 247, 248, 326, 387. 
 
 ' Morte d' Arthur, Le,' 18, 19, 20-22. 
 
 Muir, Colonel ('Life of Mahomet'), 
 132 
 
 Miiller, Max, 129, 221. ' 
 
 Mulock, Miss, 23. 
 
 NIB 
 
 Murray, Miss-, 42-44, 45. 
 
 — her ' Letters from America,' 48- 
 50, 53, 54. 
 
 — Lord "George, 43. 
 
 Murska, Mademoiselle lima de, 
 
 226. 
 Myths, 261. 
 
 "\rAPIER, Sir Charles, anecdote 
 ^^ of, 59. 
 Naples, 137. 
 
 Napoleon 1, 162-170, 176, 182, 
 215, 216. 
 
 — his falsification of his own his- 
 tory at St. Helena, 163. 
 
 — compared, as a captain, with 
 Wellington, 165. 
 
 — confidence in his star, 165. 
 
 — ambition of, 165. 
 
 — his power after the Russian 
 disaster to conclude peace on 
 three occasions, 167. 
 
 — his perversions of contemporary 
 history in his memorials, 167. 
 
 — his indifference to human life, 
 167, 168, 170, 216. 
 
 — affair of the Col de Tende, 
 • 167. 
 
 — poisoning of the soldiers at 
 Jaffa, 168. 
 
 — his order for the execution of 
 2,500 Turks, 168. 
 
 — his selfishness, 168, 176. 
 
 — cupidity, 177. 
 
 — the Reign of Terror an element 
 to be taken into account in criti- 
 cism of his character, 169. 
 
 — a partisan of Robespierre, 170. 
 
 — his likeness to Bunsen, 182. 
 
 — responsible for the murder of 
 Due d'Enghien, 215. 
 
 Napoleon til., 27, 30, 212, 272, 275, 
 
 276, 302, 324. 
 National Gallery, 220, 221. 
 Nelson, Lord, 216. 
 Nero, 165. 
 Newton, Mrs., 60. 
 
 — Sir Isaac, 285. 
 
 Nicholas, Emperor of Russia, 304 
 Nicholas VL, Pope, 320. 
 Niebuhr, 182. 
 
 17* 
 
394 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 NIL 
 
 Nilsson, Mademoiselle, 226. 
 
 Noailles, M^moires de Madame de, 
 104. 
 
 Noir, assassination of M., 254. 
 
 Norfolk, Duke of, and others, po- 
 sition with regard to the Infalli- 
 bility Decree, 299-301. 
 
 — unconscious of that position, 
 301, 307, 310. 
 
 Novel-writers, their fluctuations, 
 
 96. 
 Novels, 350. 
 
 — Dutch and German, compared, 
 155, 156, 157. 
 
 OLD TESTAMENT Revision 
 ^ Company, 268, 274, 275, 281, 
 287-289, .325, 326, 327, 368. 
 
 — Bishop Thirlwall appointed to, 
 268. 
 
 Oomraj, Tolls of, Legend concern- 
 ing, 79, 80. 
 Opium, effects of, 344, 345. 
 Orthodoxy, 57, 58. 
 Ossory, Lord, 285. 
 Otho's suicide, 295. 
 Oxford, 143. 
 
 — Bishop of. See Wilberf orce. 
 
 pAGANINI, 224. 
 
 Paget, Sir James, 345. 
 Pall Mali Gazette, 145, SIS footnote. 
 Palmerston, Viscount, 105. 
 Pan-Anglican Synod, 146. 
 Pandulph, 301. 
 Paradol, Provost, 297, 298. 
 Paraguay, 214. 
 
 Paris, 232, 233, 322. ' • 
 
 Parliament of 1868, 206. 
 Parthia, 12. 
 Pasta, 224, 
 Pausanias, 110. 
 
 Payne, Mr. and Mrs., 185, 186. 
 Peacock, u Japanese, 283-235, 265, 
 
 266. 
 Peel, Sir Robert, 109, 160. 
 Pembroke, Earl of ( ' Strongbow '), 
 
 870. 
 Pennant's ' Tour in Wales,' 7-9. 
 
 Periodical literature, constant ex- 
 tension of, 78. 
 Perowne, Canon, 93, 215, 307, 340. 
 
 — Mrs., 215. 
 
 Persecution, religious, 321. 
 Peru, Spanish conquest of, 337. 
 Petrarch's Laura, 81, 82. 
 Plielps, Mrs., 342. 
 
 Philipps, 98, 135. 
 
 Phillip's Musical RecoUedions, 221. 
 
 Philpotts, Bishop, 46. 
 
 Phipps, Sir Charles, 38. 
 
 Pisaroni, 224. 
 
 Pius IX., 10, 11, 13, 14, 26, 27, 282. 
 
 — his good intentions, 13, 14. 
 
 — fluctuations of purpose, 10. 
 
 — his proposed invitation of the 
 English Bishops, 199. 
 
 — his ignorance, 310, 311, 313. 
 
 — Oualterio's account of him, 10, 
 11, 13, 14. 
 
 — deputation to (1871), 299-301. 
 
 — his InfalUbility, 299-301, 307, 
 312. 
 
 Plato, 302, 319. 
 
 Plow, murder of Mr., 175. 
 
 Pliimptre, Professor, 104. 
 
 Plunge bath, its use by Bishop 
 
 Thirlwall, and its value, 106. 
 Plymouth Brethren, 275. 
 Poetry, Carlyle's protest against, 
 
 286. 
 Politics, ladies', 70, 71. 
 Poole, Reginald, 158. 
 Pope, Alexander, 35, 202. 
 ' Popular Tales from the Norse,' 3. 
 ' Popular Tales from the Western 
 
 Highlands,' 3. 
 Prague, Society for the Cultiva- 
 tion of the Bohemian Language 
 
 and Literature at, 246. 
 Preaching, physically beneficial to 
 
 the preacher, 341. 
 Presteign, 26. 
 Price, the Rev. Thos., 21. 
 Pride, its meaning as perverted by 
 
 tlie Roman Catholic Church in 
 
 its teachings, 282. 
 •Primitise,' by Connop Thirlwall, 
 
 184, 186. 
 Prince Imperial, the late, 30, S46, 
 
 347. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 395 
 
 PEO 
 
 Progress, variance of opinion as to 
 
 modern, 229. 
 Protestant movement in Italy, 19, 
 
 20. 
 Prussia, 83, 84, 86, 271-273. 
 Prussian terms of peace (1871), 
 
 304, 305. 
 Pugh, Dr., 3.S9. 
 Purgatory, 357. 
 Pythagorean view of life, 296. 
 
 nUARTERLY REVIEW, ar- 
 TJ tides in the, 158. 
 'Queen of the Air' (Ruskin), 
 
 257. 
 Queen, the, 22, 23, 37, 38, 39, 45, 
 
 72, 111, 130, 234, 342. 
 
 — her speech, 112, 257. 
 
 — ' Diarv ' of, translated into 
 Welsh,"l82. 
 
 'Quirinus,' by the author of 
 
 'Janus,' 312. 
 Quirk, Deacon, 343. 
 
 T?ADNOESHIRE, 358, 526. 
 Ramsay, Professor, 313. 
 Ravignan, Pere, 232. 
 Eawlinson, Sir Henry, 279. 
 
 — a letter concerning his pets, 
 376, 377. 
 
 Reading public, the, 341. 
 Reading, allusions to, 95, 96, 210, 
 
 211, 221, 238, 313-315, 325, 353, 
 
 355 
 Record, the, 14, 57, 72. 
 Reform demonstration (1867), 117, 
 
 118. 
 
 — Picture in Fun, 145. 
 Religion, its influence upon poetry 
 
 and art, 4. 
 
 ' Reminiscences of Knebworth,' 350. 
 
 Remusat, Charles de, 48. 
 
 Renan, 279, 280. 
 
 Repentance of sin and sins, 50, 51. 
 
 Besolution,BishopThirlwaH's,with 
 regard to the Revision Compa- 
 nies, 288, 289. 
 
 — Bishop of Winchester's, 288, 
 289. 
 
 RUS 
 
 Revision Company, Old Testa- 
 ment, 268, 274, 275, 281, 287- 
 289, 325-327, 363. 
 
 Revue des deux Mondes, articles in, 
 158, 238, 280, 29.3, 294, 298, 325, 
 361. 
 
 Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 232. 
 
 Richmond, a visit to, 34, 35. 
 
 Rickman, Mr , 227. 
 
 Riddle supposed to be by Bishop 
 Thirl wall or Bishop Wilberforce, 
 147. 
 
 — by Sir Isaac Newton, 285. 
 
 • Ring and the Book, The,' 219. 
 Ritual Commission, 154, 166, 210, 
 
 215. 
 Eitualism, 159. 
 
 — at Tenby, 157, 159, 
 Robertson, P. W., Sermons and 
 
 Life of, 57, 58, 71. 
 
 — 'Life and Letters,' 67, 68, 69. 
 Robespierre, Lord Lytton's remark 
 
 on, 169. 
 
 — character of, 174-176. 
 Rogers, Samuel, 115, 348. 
 Roman Catholic faith, 19-20, 266- 
 
 270, 273, 319^321, 336, 351, 352- 
 355, 357-358. 
 Rome, MS. account of its fall, 109, 
 110. 
 
 — Bishop Thirlwall's Reminis- 
 cences of a visit to, 185, 186. 
 
 — weather in (1869), 217. 
 Rossetti, Christina, 81. 
 
 — Gabriel, 80, 81, 82. 
 Rothe's ' Ethik,' 356. 
 Eouth, Dr., 328. 
 
 Rowland ( Welsh Grammar), 93. 
 Royal Academy, the, 220, 221, 
 
 328. 
 Rubens ('Rainbow Landscape'), 
 
 232. 
 Rubini, 224. 
 Rubric Commission, Bishop Thirl- 
 
 wall placed on the, 143. 
 Ruby, a poem, 152. 
 Rumor, nature and value of, 200. 
 Ruskin, John, 147, 317. 
 
 — ' Queen of the Air,' 257. 
 
 — Views of Botanj', 147. 
 Russell, Earl, 70, 112, 182-184. 
 Russian diplomacy, 214. 
 
396 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 CABBATH, Puritanical obser- 
 •^ vance of the, 107, 111. 
 Sadowa, Battle of, 271. 
 Ibiainte-Beuve, 86, 102, 202. 
 St. Chrysostom, 263. 
 
 — David's Cathedral, 42, 45. 
 
 — Gothard, 125. 
 
 — Govan, 328, 329, 382, 383. 
 
 — Helena, 167. 
 
 — Hilaire, Barthflemy (Life of 
 Mahomet), 132. 
 
 — James, 108. 
 
 — John the Baptist, 77. 
 
 — John's College, Cambridge, 227. 
 
 — Meugan, chapel of, 8. 
 
 — Paul, 16. 
 
 His view of death, 292. 
 
 — Paul's, 31. 
 
 — Peter, 197. 
 
 — S within, 337. 
 
 — Teresa, 347. 
 
 Salters' Company, the. 111. 
 Sand, George, ' Pierre que roule,' 
 235, 236. 
 
 — ' Homme de Neige,' 280. 
 San-Marte, -5. 
 
 Sartoris, Mr., 230. 
 
 — Mrs., 231-233. 
 
 Saturdat/ Review, articles in, 191, 
 
 192, 210. 
 Saturn, the planet, 235. 
 Savage, Marmion, 66. 
 ' Scala,' the, 188. 
 Schiller's ' Wallenstein,' 358. 
 Schulte, v., 313, 321. 
 Schwenck, 150. 
 Scilly, etymology of, 1, 2. 
 Scio, 110. 
 
 Sclavonic, see Slavonic. 
 Scott, Sir Gilbert, 227. 
 — Designs for the Law Courts, 114. 
 Sedan, 278. 
 
 Sedgwick, Adam, 171, 348. 
 Selfishness, 176, 178, 179. 
 Sensation in the brute creation, 
 
 38, 39. 
 Sepoy mutiny, 54. 
 Sermon, ■.,, 232. 
 Sermons, 183, 283, 364. 
 
 — F. W. Robertson's, 67, 58, 71, 72. 
 Severn, Mr., 60. 
 
 S^vign^, Madame de, 47. 
 
 STO 
 
 Shaftesbury, Earl of, 158. 
 Shakespeare, quoted, 24. 
 Siddons, Mrs., 214. 
 Sin, the question of its forgiveness 
 
 considered, 50, 51. 
 Sirius, 260. 
 Skene (' The Pour Ancient Books 
 
 of Wales'), 209. 
 Slave trade. Miss Murray on the, 
 
 49, 50, 58, 54. 
 Slavonic Cliristmas Carol, 241. 
 Slavonic Legends, 241-247. 
 Sleep, 322, 338. 
 Sligo, 68. 
 Smith, ' Bobus,' 87. 
 
 — Goldwin, 224. 
 
 — Sydney, 87, 224, 325, 362. 
 Snake jewel, the supposed, 337. 
 Socrates, 86, 296, 297, 319. 
 Somerville, Mrs., 348. 
 Souvestre, Emile ('Chroniques de 
 
 la Mer '), 104. 
 Spain, Queen of, 197, 198. 
 Spaniards, their traditions, 61, 64. 
 Spanish Armada, the, 40. 
 Spanish verbal liberality, 61, 62. 
 
 — prospects (1868), 197, 198. 
 
 ' Sparta, Marquis of,' 137, 138. 
 
 ' Speaker's Commentary,' the, 327. 
 
 Spectator, articles in the, 154, 265, 
 
 298, 299. 
 . Spence, Mr., 254. 
 
 Spencer, Edmund, 152. 
 
 Spirits, present agency of de- 
 parted, 16-18, 27, 28. 
 
 Spiritualism, 347, 348. 
 
 Stael, Madame de, 333. 
 
 Stanley, Lady Augusta, 23, 41, 42, 
 215. 
 
 — Dean, 41, 42, 64, 289. 
 
 — Lord (now Earl of Derby), 183. 
 Amendment on Gladstone's 
 
 Irish Church resolutions, 183, 
 
 184. 
 Stapleton Castle, 26. 
 Steinmetz, 274. 
 Stephen, Sir J,, 274. 
 Stephens, Miss, 224. 
 Stoics, the. 291, 296, 296. 
 Stokes, Whitley, 348. 
 'Stone Edge' (Lady Verney), 190. 
 Storks, Sir H., 55. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 397 
 
 STR 
 
 Strawberry Hill, 35. 
 
 Street's designs for Law Courts, 
 114. 
 
 ' Student, The,' by Lord Lytton, 
 12, 18. 
 
 Sudraka, legend concerning, 72, 75. 
 
 Suicide, 295-299. 
 
 Sumner, Bishop, 204, 224. 
 
 Sun, eclipse of the, article on, in 
 the Cornhill Magazine, 191. 
 
 — heat of the, 260. 
 
 Sympathy in cases of bereave- 
 ment, 14, 16. 
 
 Synagogue, prayers offered in the, 
 for the Prince of Wales, 328. 
 
 T'AINE (' Histoire de la Littera- 
 ture Anglaise') 32, 33, 124, 
 
 125. 
 Tait, Bishop, 204. 
 Talbot, Mr., of Margam, 45. 
 Talk, chapters on, in the Vornhill 
 
 Magazine, 157, 177. 
 Talleyrand, 170, 209. 
 Talma, approached by Young, 325. 
 Talmud, articles on the, 158. 
 Tartjufle, compared with Cromwell, 
 
 264. 
 Tau Coronae, 238, 239. 
 Taylor, Bayard, 116. 
 Teddington Lock, 35. 
 Tegid (Mr. Jones), 12. 
 Temple, the, 233. 
 
 — Bishop, 261. 
 
 Tenby, Albert Memorial, 37. 
 
 — Ritualism at, 157, 159. 
 Tennyson, Alfred, 323, 324, 329. 
 
 — 'The Holy Grail,' 248, 255, 256. 
 Thackeray, Miss, 87, 335. 
 
 — "W. M., 56. 
 
 Thames Embanlwnent, 145, 232. 
 
 Theiner's ' Geschichte des Ponti- 
 ficals,' 273. 
 
 Thiers, 65, 163, 248, 277, 304. 
 
 Thirlwall, Bishop, his ancestors, 26. 
 
 ^ his birthday (1867) commemo- 
 rated in London, 111, 113. 
 
 — speech on St. David's Day, 121, 
 122, 124. 
 
 — hallucinations of the public with 
 regard to his office, 282, 2^3. 
 
 THI 
 
 Thirlwall, Bishop, a military baU, 
 135, 1.36. 
 
 — his views concerning the ques- 
 tion of Female Suffrage, 141. 
 
 — stay at Cambridge, 143, 226. 
 
 — his visit to the lower, 144, 145. 
 
 — Italian recollections, 138, 139. 
 
 — a tedious journey, 171, 186, 187. 
 
 — views on the Irish Church ques- 
 tion, 202, 203. 
 
 — Llangathen Sermon, 190. 
 
 — birthday thoughts, 216, 217, 219. 
 
 — his memory, 315. 
 
 — nomination to the Council of 
 the Royal Academy, 328. 
 
 — speech on the Athanasian 
 Creed, 336, 337. 
 
 — his appointment to the Old Tes- 
 tament Revision Company, 268. 
 
 — his resolution versiis that of the 
 Bishop of Winchester on the re- 
 vision question, 288, 289. 
 
 — his occupations, 280, 281. 
 
 — musical recollections, 224. 
 
 — practice of voting, 237. 
 
 — sympathies at the time of the 
 Franco-German war, 273, 276, 
 277, 278. 
 
 — triumph of his Churchman in- 
 stincts over his Liberal tenden- 
 cies, 361. 
 
 — his preference of a mild and 
 wet winter to a cold and dry one, 
 344. 
 
 — his suffering from the cold, 349. 
 
 — 'Chaos,' 184, 212, 245, 284, 285, 
 326. 
 
 — his reply to a statement that he 
 had not visited Radnorshire for 
 thirty years, 353. 
 
 — his cats, 322, 323. 
 
 — his geese, 119, 122, 123, 134, 245. 
 
 — his library, 363. 
 
 — an.xiety respecting the revision 
 of his works, 363. 364. 
 
 — his favorite reading, 355. 
 
 — the resignation of his bishopric, 
 362, 363. 
 
 — he leaves Abergwili for Bath, 
 363. 
 
 — the failing of his eyesight, 365, 
 366. 
 
398 
 
 INDEX, 
 
 THI 
 
 Thirlwall, Bishop, his burial in 
 Westminster Abbey, S23 footnote. 
 
 — liis bust, by Edward Davis, 12, 
 and footnote {see also the frontis- 
 piece). 
 
 — a poem which he either com- 
 posed or translated/ 367. 
 
 Thomas, Meredyth, 37, 211. 
 
 — John (Pencerdd Gwalia), 226. 
 Tiberius, a dream concerning, 148, 
 
 149. 
 Tichborne Case, 322. 
 ' Tichbourne Dole,' the, 120, 374, 
 
 875. 
 Tigers, 189. 
 
 Times, the, 46, 52, 223,237, 347, 366. 
 Tippoo Sahib, his toy tiger at the 
 
 India Office, 223. 
 Tiresias, 137. 
 Titus, 165. 
 Torquay, 46, 51, 52. 
 Tower, the, 144. 
 Traherne, Mr., 93. 
 Trajan, 165. 
 
 Trautraannsdorff, Count, 366. 
 Travellers, delight of, to find they 
 
 have seen something which 
 
 others lost, 12(1. 
 Tregelles, Dr., 275. 
 Tre'r Ddol, 8. 
 
 Trinity Lodge, Cambridge, 226. 
 Turin Library, the. 111. 
 Turks, execution of 2,5Q0, by or- 
 der of Napoleon I., 168. 
 'Tycoon,' the Peacock, 233-235, 
 
 265,266. 
 Tyndall, John, 196. 
 
 — Lectures on ' Faraday as a Dis- 
 coverer,' 160-162. 
 
 Tywy River, its former course at 
 Abergwili, 43. 
 
 TJLLATHORNE, Roman Cath- 
 
 olic Bisliop, 27. 
 'Uncle Tom,' 49. 
 Urban II., 820. 
 
 VACIIEROT, 236, 23a 
 
 Vandervelde, 232. 
 Varese, 126. 
 Vassalus, etymology of, 150, 151. 
 
 WES 
 
 Vaughan, the Silurist, 342. 
 Vaults, inspection of the, under 
 
 House of Lords, 159. 
 Vaux, Mr., 109, 110, 117. 
 Venetia, Austrian cession of, 83, 84. 
 ' Vestiges of Creation,' attributed 
 
 to Lady Lovelace, 121. 
 Victoria, a, poem dedicated to 
 
 Princess, 134. 
 Vigne, Alfred de la, 200. 
 Villemarqu^, De la, 58, 350. 
 Viravara, legend concerning, 193- 
 
 195. 
 Vischachala, story conceming,193- 
 
 195. 
 Vitrified fort at Inverness, 210. 
 
 WAGE'S ' Brut,' 5. 
 
 Wakedi, story relating to, 62. 
 Wales, Princess of, 225. 
 
 — Prince of, 24, 25, 31, 225, 328. 
 Wallace's ' Night Winds,' 217. 
 
 ' Wallenstein,' Schiller's, 358. 
 Walpole. Horace, 48, 57, 61, 285, 
 
 360. 
 War, Austro-German, 83, 84. 
 
 — Declaration of, between France 
 and Germany, 271. 
 
 — Franco-German, 271-273, 276, 
 277, 304, 305, 824. 
 
 Washington, 166. 
 Water-break-its-neck, 26. 
 Wellington, Duke of, 36. 
 
 — contrasted with -Napoleon I., 
 165. 
 
 Welsh and Saxon descent of Bishop 
 Thirlwall, 26. 
 
 — Books, 6, 133, 134. 
 
 — Grammars, 03. 
 
 — Harp, 25. 
 
 — Language, 22, 23, 342. 
 
 — Legends, allusions to, 3-7, 9, 
 369, 370. 
 
 — names of places, characteristic, 
 213. 
 
 Wentworth, Lord, 116. 
 
 Wesley, John, 841. 
 
 Westbury, Lord, 262. 
 
 Westminster Abbey, Edward Da- 
 vis's bust of Bishop Thirlwall 
 for, 12. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 399 
 
 WES 
 
 Westminster Abbey, George 
 
 Grote's funeral in, 323 
 Westminster, the Dean of, 323. 
 Westminster Gazette, 319, 821. 
 ' Wide, Wide World, The," 96. 
 Wilberforce, Bishop, 183, 226, 226. 
 
 — Resolution (1871) with regard 
 to the Eevision Companies, 
 288. 
 
 — speech on the Athanasiau 
 Creed, 336. 
 
 Wilkes, John, 132. 
 Wilkinson, Sir Gardner, 337. 
 Williams, Rowland, 256. 
 
 — Mi^s Jane, of Aberporgwm, 6. 
 Winchester, Bishop of, his motion 
 
 in the House of Lords with re- 
 gard to the constitution of the 
 Revision Companies, 288, his 
 attack upon Bishop Thirlwall's 
 speech on the Athanasian Creed, 
 836. {See also under Wilberforce.) 
 
 ZOO 
 
 Winchester Observer, the, 374. 
 Windsor Castle, 22, 23, 130, 131. 
 Wiseman, Cardinal, 77. 
 Women, as politicians, 70, 71, 141, 
 
 142. 
 Wordsworth, William, 204, 231. 
 Wynn, Sir Watkin Williams, 
 
 225. 
 — Charlotte Williams, her ' Diaries 
 
 and Letters,' 355, 356. 
 Wynne, Edith, 226. 
 
 XANTIPPE, 85. 
 
 yORK, Archbishop of, 228. 
 Young, the actor, 324, 325. 
 
 7OOLOGICAL Gardens, 31, 34. 
 "'•^ Zoology, 147. 
 
 UniTersity Press: John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, 
 
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