I must at least begin a letter to you to-day, because I feel I must thank you, and express my delight at the letter and article. The letter confirms my fears in the highest degree, namely, that you are not well, not to say that you begin to be a hypochondriacal old bachelor. But that is such a natural consequence of your retired sulky Don's life, and of your spleen, that I can only wonder how you can fight so bravely against it. But both letter and article show me how vigorous are both your mind and heart. It is quite right in you to defend Froude, though no one better knows that the general opinion is (as is even acknowledged by members of the German romantic school) that Shakespeare intentionally counteracted the corrupt instinct and depraved taste of his nation in the matter of Oldcastle. Whatever strange saints there have been in all countries, yet the Wycliffites, true to their great and noble master, were martyrs, and Milman has insisted on this most nobly. To misapprehend Wyeliffe himself, that is, not to recognize him as the first and purest reformer, the man between the Waldenses, Tauler, and Luther, is, however, a heresy more worthy of condemnation than the ignoring of Germany in the Reformation, and doubly deplorable when one sees such blind faith in the bloody sentences of that most miserable court of judgment of Henry VIII. I must therefore invert your formula thus, [pg 482] “L'histoire romanique (romantique) ne vaut pas le Roman historique.” (I am not speaking of “Two Years Ago,” for I only began to read the book yesterday.) But I am very glad that you think so highly of Froude personally, and therefore this matter does not disturb me. On the other hand, I rejoice without any but, that you have taken up Buddha so lovingly and courageously. (Do you know that extracts from the article have found their way into the papers, through “Galignani” as “Signs of the Times.”) You will soon see how nearly we agree together, although I cannot say so much of the humanizing influence of Buddhism: it makes of the Turanians what the Jesuits make of the people of Paraguay, “praying machines.” In China the Buddhists are not generally respected; in India they could not maintain their position, and would with difficulty convert the people, if they tried to regain their lost ground. But Buddha, personally, was a saint, a man who felt for mankind, a profound man. I have said in my section, “Buddha has not only found more millions of followers than Jesus, but is also even more misunderstood than the Son of Mary.” Have you read Dhammapadam? What is the authority for Buddha's “Ten Commandments?” I have always considered this as an invention of Klaproth's, confirmed by Prinsep. I do not find them on Asoka's pillars, nor in that didactic poem; on the contrary, four or five ad libitum. I shall, however, now read the sermons of the (really worthless) convert Asoka at the fountain head, from Sprenger's library.
You have represented the whole as with a magic wand. We really edified ourselves yesterday evening with it. Frances read aloud, and we listened; and this morning early my wife has made it into a beautiful little book in quarto, with which I this afternoon made Trübner very happy for some hours. He is a remarkable man, and is much devoted to you, and I have entered into business relations with him about my “Biblework,” the first volume of which goes to press on the 1st of January; the other six stand before me as far finished as they can be, till I have the printed text of “The People's Bible” in three volumes before me, on which the “Biblical Documents,” three volumes, and the “Life of Jesus and the Eternal Kingdom of God,” one volume, are founded. He appears to me to be the right negotiator between America, England, and Germany. He will before long call on you some Saturday. (Write me word how you think of him as a bookseller.) The duty you pay for [pg 483] your place, by putting together a Chresthomathy, is very fair; whether you are obliged to print your Lectures I cannot decide. I shall curse them both if they prevent you from tearing yourself away from the Donnish atmosphere and bachelor life of Oxford, and from throwing yourself into the fresh mental atmosphere of Germany and of German mind and life. You must take other journeys besides lake excursions and Highland courses. Why don't you go to Switzerland, with an excursion (by Berlin) to Breslau, to the German Oriental Congress? There is nothing like the German spirit, in spite of all its one-sidedness. What a lœta paupertas! What a recognition of the sacerdocy of science! And then the strengthening air, free from fog, of our mountains and valleys! You bad fellow, to tell me nothing of your mother's leaving you, for you ought to know that I am tenderly devoted to her; and it vexes me all the more, as I should long ago have sent her my “God in History,” had I known that she was in Germany. (Query where? Address?) Therefore fetch her, instead of luring her away to the walks under the lime-trees. George is going too at the end of June from here to the Alps; we expect him in a fortnight. He is a great delight to me.
Now something more about Yama. I think you are perfectly right with regard to the origin. It is exactly the same with Osiris, the husband of Isis, the earth, and then the judge of the dead and first man. Only we do not on this account explain Anubis as a symbol of the sun, but as the watchful Dog of Justice, the accuser. So there are features in Yama (and Yima) which are not to be easily explained from the cosmogonic conception, although they can be from the idea of the divine, the first natural representation of which is the astral one. I think, however, that Yama is Geminus, that is “the upper and lower sun,” to speak as an Egyptian. The two dogs must originally have been what their mother the old bitch Saramâ is; but with the God of Death they are something different, and the lord of the dead is to be as little explained by the so-called nature-religion without returning to the eternal factor, as this first phase itself could have arisen without it as cosmical—therefore, as first symbol. How I long for your two translations! The hymn which you give in the article is sublime: the search after the God of the human heart is expressed with indescribable pathos; and how much more will this be the case in your hands in a new Indian translation! For we are most surely now the Indians of [pg 484] the West. I am delighted that you so value Rowland Williams. We must never forget that he has undertaken (as he himself most pointedly wrote to me) the difficult task “to teach Anglican theology (and that to Anglican Cymri).” He has not yet quite promised to pay me a visit,—he is evidently afraid of me as a German and freethinker, and is afraid “to be catechised.” He, like all Englishmen, is wanting in faith. He seems to occupy himself profoundly with the criticism of the Old Testament. Poor fellow! But he will take to Daniel.
The Harfords are determined to keep him there, in which Henry has already encouraged them. I, however, think he ought to go to Cambridge if they offer him a professorship. Muir has written to me again,—an honest man; but he has again taken a useless step, a prize, for which Hoffmann (superintendent-in-general) is to be the arbiter; and the three judges will be named by him, Lehnert as theologian (Neander's unknown successor), H. Ritter as the historian of philosophy (very good,—and who as Orientalist)! No magister will touch his pen, his ducibus and tali auspicio. You should perform the Benares vow by a catechism drawn up for the poor young Brahmans in the style of Rowland Williams, and yet quite different, that is, in your own manner, telling and short. At all events, no one in Germany will write half as good a book for the Brahmans as Williams has done. The Platonic dialogue requires a certain breadth, unless one is able and willing to imitate the Parmenides. At the same time the ordinary missionaries may convert the lower classes through the Gospel and through Christian-English-German life, in which alone they prove their faith. By the by, it seems that Williams hopes for an article from you in the “North British Review.” That you intend to read my “Egypt” is delightful; only not in the Long Vacation, when you ought to travel about. Have you read the friendly article on “God in History” in the “National Review” (April), which however certainly shows an ignorance bordering on impudence. Even the man in the “Westminster Review” pleases me better, although he looked through my book fast asleep, and puts into my mouth the most unbelievable discoveries of his own ignorance,—Isaiah chapters xlix.-lxvi. are written by Jeremiah and Baruch, and similar horrors! When will people learn something? But in four years I hope, with God's help, to state this, in spite of them, and force them at last to learn something through “the help of their masters and mine.” With true love, yours.
[79.]
See there he remains in the centre of Germany for a month, and lets one hear and see nothing of him! Had I not soon after the receipt of your dear and instructive letter gone to Wildbad, and there fallen into indescribable idleness, I should long ago have written to Oxford; for the letter was a great delight to me. The snail had there crept out of his shell and spoke to me as the friend, but now “Your Excellency” appears again; so the snail has drawn his head in again.
Now, my dear friend, you ought to be thanked for the friendly thought of paying me a visit, and writing to me. Therefore you must know that I returned here on the 19th, in order to greet, in his father's native country, Astor, my now sixty-three years old pupil, who proposed himself for the 20th to the 25th, and who for my sake has left his money-bags in order to see me once again. And now Astor is really in Europe, and has called at Abbey Lodge; but his wife and granddaughter have stayed on in Paris or Brussels, and Astor is not yet here. This, however, has no effect on my movements, for I do not accompany him to Switzerland, where, I know, Brockhaus would send a hue and cry after me.
That the Oxford Don should ask him if I would afford him a “few hours,” shows again the English leaven. For you well know that my hermit's life is dear to me for this reason,—that it leaves me at liberty to receive here the Muses and my friends. And what have we not to talk over? The “hours” belong to the Don's gown; for you know very well that we could in a “few hours” only figure to ourselves what we have to discuss by turns. So come as soon as you can, and stay at least a week here. You will find my house to be sure rather lonely, as Henry has robbed me of the womankind, and Sternberg of Theodora; and that excellent princess keeps Emilia from me, who is faithfully nursing her benefactress in an illness that I hope is passing away. We two old people are, however, here and full of old life. Perhaps you will also still find Theodore, who, however, soon after Astor's departure will be hurrying off to Falmouth for sea-bathing, in acceptance of his brother Ernst's invitation. Laboulaye has announced himself for the 8th; Gerhard and his wife for the first or second week in September; therefore, if you do find any one, they will be friends. Besides [pg 486] Meyer, there is Dr. Sprenger, the Arabic scholar, as house friend, whose library I have at last secured for us,—a delightful man, who is my guide in the Arabian desert, so that I may be certain of bringing the children of Israel in thirty months to the Jabbok, namely, in the fifth of the eight volumes.
I can give you no better proof of my longing to see you than by saying that you shall even be welcome without your mother, who is so dear and unforgotten to us all, although we by no means give up the hope that you will bring her with you here. For I must see her again in this life. I ought to have thanked her before this for a charming letter, but I did not know where she had gone from Carlsbad; her son never sent me the address. Should she not come with you, you must pay toll for the delay, which, however, must not be longer than one year, with a photograph, for I must soon see her.
So you have looked at my Genesis! I am pleased at this. But I hope you will look at the chapters once again, when they are set in pages, after my last amendments; also at my discussions on Genesis i. 1-4, ii. 4-7, as i. and ii. of the thirty thorns (in the Appendix, p. cxxxv.) which I have run into the weak side of the Bible dragon, though less than one thirtieth of its heaviest sins. I feel as if I had got over three quarters of the work since I sent the eleven chapters and the thirty thorns into the world. My holidays last till the 21st of October. Haug is in the India House, over Minokhired and Parsi Bundehesh. If you have a moment's time, look at my quiet polemic against you and Burnouf in favor of Buddha, in reference to the Nirvâna. Koeppen has given me much new material, although he is of your opinion. I am quite convinced that Buddha thought on this point like Tauler and the author of the “German Theology;” but he was an Indian and lived in desperate times. A thousand thanks for the dove which you sent me out of the ark of the Rig-Veda. I had sinned against the same hymn by translating it according to Haug, as I had not courage enough to ask you for more. And that leads me to tell you with what deep sympathy and melancholy pleasure your touching idyl has filled me. You will easily believe me that after the first five minutes I saw you vividly behind the mask. I thank you very much for having ordered it to be sent to me. I am very glad that you have written it, for I would far rather see you mixing in the life of the present and future, with your innate freshness and energy. I must end. All love from me and Fanny to your incomparable mother. So to our speedy meeting. Truly yours.