MY DEAR VANISHED FRIEND,—Where thou art and where thou hast turned since
thy fleeting shadow disappeared, I have asked in vain on all sides during
my journey through Germany. No one whom I met had seen you, which Ewald
particularly deplored very much. At all events you are now in the
sanctuary on the Isis, and I have long desired to communicate one thing
and another to you. But first I will tell you what at this moment lies
heavy on my heart—“Galignani” brought me the news yesterday: my dear
friend Pusey lies seriously ill at his brother’s house in Oxford; “his
life is despaired of.” Unfortunately there is nothing improbable in this
sad intelligence. I had already been anxious before this, for ten days, as
I had written to him, to Pusey, nearly three weeks ago, on the news of the
death of his wife, entreating him most pressingly, for his own and his
family’s sake, to spend the winter here, and to live as much as possible
with us, his old friends. I know he would have answered the letter, were
he not ill. Perhaps he was not even able to read it.
Dr. Acland is our mutual friend, and without doubt attends the dear
invalid. At all events, he has daily access to him. My request therefore
is, if he is not already taken from us, that you will let Acland tell you
how it really is with him, and let me hear by return of post, via Paris:
if possible also, whether Pusey did receive my letter, and then how Sidney
and the two daughters are; who is with them, whether Lady Carnarvon or
only the sisters of charity.
Now to other things.
1. Dietrich gave me the inclosed, of course _post festum_. I have marked
at the back what he still wants in your Tables.
2. Greet Dr. Aufrecht, and tell him I am very sorry that Dietrich has
found fault with his Paternoster. I was obliged in the hurry to leave the
printing of this section to him. I will let A.’s metacritic go to him.
3. I have a letter from Hodgson of Darjeling as an answer to the letter
written here by you, very friendly and “in spirits,” otherwise but
slightly intelligible. He refers me to a letter forty pages long which he
has sent to Mohl in Paris, an improved edition of the one he sent to
Wilson. He supposes that I received both; if not, I should ask for the one
to Mohl.
Of course I have received neither. But I have sent to Mohl through his
niece, to beg he would send the said letter to _you_, and you would inform
me of the particulars. I hope you have already received it. If not, see
about it, for we must not lose sight of the man.
The copy of the “Outlines” must now be in his hands. These “Outlines,” the
child of our common toil, begin now to be known in Germany. Ewald has
already taken a delight in them; he will review them. Meyer is quite
enchanted with your Turanians, but would gladly, like many others, know
something more of the Basques. For me it is a great event, having made a
_friendship for life_ and an alliance with Ewald, over Isaiah’s
“No peace with the wicked;”
and on still higher grounds. Those were delightful days which I spent in
Göttingen and Bonn, as also with Bethman-Hollweg, Camphausen, and others.
I see and feel the misery of our people far more deeply than I expected,
only I find more comfort than I hoped in the sympathy of my
contemporaries, who willingly give me a place among themselves.
A proposal to enter the Upper House (of which, however, I do not care to
speak) I could of course only refuse, with many thanks. I have finished my
“Egypt,” Volume. IV., with Bötticher, and sent it for press for the 1st
January.
As an intermezzo, I have begun a specimen for a work suggested to me in a
wonderful manner from England, America, and Germany (particularly by Ewald
and Lücke),—a real Bible for the people, that is, a sensible and sensibly
printed text, with a popular statement of the results of the
investigations of historical criticism, and whatever the spirit may
inspire besides.
I am now working from Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Baruch, where, beyond all
expectation, I found new light on the road I was treading.
We live in the happiest retirement. Your visit, and that of your mother,
of whom we all became very fond, was a great delight to us, though a short
one. Fanny and I have a plan to greet her at Christmas by a short letter.
Now write me word how it fares with you.
[64.]