Christianity possible, being one of them himself in spirit, perhaps the noblest. He invented no new Gospel, but showed them the real courage, the manliness of our Christ reflected somewhat unconsciously in himself. Is it necessary to explain to you that for ages the majority of soldiers had dimly tried to do their duty with the grim creed alone, that 'every bullet has its billet,' and after-? The circumstances that made the Puritan soldiers died with them. The modern soldier had to choose between what, rightly or wrongly, seemed to them a Christ with all the manliness carefully eliminated, a creed that culminated in sentimental revivals, that would not stand the rough usage of the camp, except in a few cases, and those happily were generally called away in all their genuine burning zeal before the cold shade of peaceful monotony had more severely tried a faith that fed on excitement. It is not hard to find a creed for a soldier to die with, it seems to me at least I have seen Mahomet's answer well. A creed to live by is a very different thing. The only alternative to the beautiful evangelical Christianity of such happy soldiers as Hedley Vicars (Havelock was a Puritan out of his age), the extreme evangelical doctrine to which most men are constitutionally averse, was the slavish Roman, or what seemed its unpractical emasculate æsthetic imitation. The average soldier found no rest, no place in modern Christianity, until our apostle tore off the shreds and patches, with which for ages the Divine figure of the God-man had been obscured; He who found no such faith in Israel as that of the centurion. These are solemn themes, and I have handled them perhaps roughly, not from want of respect for the brave and good men, who have lived and died in both extremes. I would have learnt very little from Charles Kingsley if I had not learnt to respect both John Bunyan and Ignatius Loyola, the soldier priest ! Feebly and foolishly perhaps I have tried to explain to you, who no doubt know far better than I do, the reasons why soldiers had such sympathy with him who sympathised with them, and has given to thousands, I believe (for I have heard private soldiers speak of his books), the most priceless gift that man can bestow upon his brother. Long years ago in India, before I ever saw him, I wrote to thank him, anonymously, for what I and others of my comrades owed to him. I think it would only be just and useful, if a few extracts from his works and special sermons could be collected and printed separately for soldiers' libraries. But on whom has his mantle fallen? Alas! upon none, I fear. An army chaplain would be the fittest person; but who? The late

* The little volume for Soldiers' Libraries will be undertaken, if life is spared, as soon as this work is completed, and if not, will be committed to more competent hands.

Silence in a Great Presence.

Chaplain-General was a grand old man in his way.

375

As you are

engaged on his life and letters, would not this fall in, except that it would overtax an already overburthened heart in every sense?

"As you allude to his pleasure in seeing the semi-frozen fall of Montmorency, with its boiling cauldron and marvellous cone of frozen foam, it will seem so like him when I tell you that, as he stood on a little platform over the abyss, I left him to commune with the nature he loved so well. I was afraid somebody would shout above the roar of the torrent how many cubic feet of water per second went down it, etc., or something of that sort. A little time afterwards he said, 'Thank you; you understand me. I would as soon a fellow talked and shouted to me in church as in that presence.'

"He knows many things now; what unconsciously he taught me. and others. Now I feel with some remorse and shame how often I forget and fail to follow feebly where he led so straight. It may be some little consolation to you to know his kindly large-hearted presence seems to come sometimes in the silent night into my study in the old citadel, where I sit, and remember him pacing the little room with brave kind words to me, upon my dear mother's death, who also loved and reverenced him. He spoke then of his readiness to go to his own place.

"Yours sincerely,

"F. BLAND STRANGE."

CHAPTER XXVIII.

1872.

AGED 53.

OPENING OF CHESTER CATHEDRAL NAVE-DEATHS OF MR. MAURICE AND NORMAN McLeod-Letters TO MAX MÜLLER-MRS. LUARD-MRS. H. V. -MRS. TAYLOR-DEAN GOULBURN-NOTES ON MODERN HYMNOLOGYLECTURE AT BIRMINGHAM AND ITS RESULTS-LECTURE ON HEROISM AT CHESTER-A POEM-CORRESPONDENCE ON THE ATHANASIAN CREEDLETTER FROM DR. KARL SCHULZE.

“No man can justly blame me for honouring my spiritual mother, the Church of England, in whose womb I was conceived, at whose breast I was nourished, and in whose bosom I hope to die. Bees by the instinct of Nature do love their hives, and birds their nests. But, God is my witness, that, according to my uttermost talent and poor understanding, I have endeavoured to set down the naked truth impartially, without either favour or prejudice, the two capital enemies of right judgment. The one of which, like a false mirror, doth represent things fairer and straighter than they are; the other, like the tongue infected with choler, makes the sweetest meats to taste bitter. My desire hath been to have Truth for my chiefest friend and no enemy but Error."

BISHOP BRAMHALL.