by me both from your instructions and private friendship,
I am more indebted to you for the foundation of my
intellectual habits and tastes than to any other person,
and shall bear, by the will of the Almighty, the impress
of your hand through any future stage of existence.
It is a relief to my own feelings to speak in this
manner, and you will forgive one of the most favoured
of your pupils if he seeks another kind of relief—a
relief which he has long sought an opportunity to
obtain—the expression of a wish that his
honoured master were one with himself in the exercise
of the convictions, and the enjoyment of the comforts,
of living Christianity, or as far before himself as
he is in all other particulars. This is a wish,
a prayer, a fervent desire often expressed to the
Almighty Former and Guide of the spirits of men, mingled
with the hope that, if not already, at least some time,
this accordance of faith will be attained, this living
union realised with the great Teacher, Sacrifice,
and Restorer of our fallen race. You will pardon
this manifestation of the gratitude and affection of
your pupil and friend, who, if he knew a higher, would
gladly give it as a payment of a debt too great to
be expressed. I have long ago been taught to
feel the vanity of the world in all its forms—to
renounce the hope of intellectual distinction, and
to exalt love above knowledge. Philosophy has
been to me much; but it can never be all, never the
most; and I have found, and know that I have found,
the true good in another quarter. This is mysticism—the
mysticism of the Bible—the mysticism of
conscious reconciliation and intimacy with the living
Persons of the Godhead—a mysticism which
is not like that of philosophy, an irregular and incommunicable
intuition, but open to all, wise and unwise, who take
the highway of humility and prayer. If I were
not truly and profoundly happy in my faith—the
faith of the universal Church—I would not
speak of it. The greatest increase which it admits
of is its sympathetic kindling in the hearts of others,
not least of those who know by experience the pain
of speculation, the truth that he who increaseth knowledge
increaseth sorrow. I know you will indulge these
expressions to one more in earnest than in former
years, more philanthropic, more confident that he knows
in whom he has believed, more impressed with the duty
of bearing everywhere a testimony to the convictions
which have given him a positive hold at once of truth
and happiness.
“But I check myself in this unwonted strain,
which only your long-continued and singular kindness
could have emboldened me to attempt; and with the
utterance of the most fervent wishes for your health,
academical success, and inward light and peace, I remain
your obliged friend and grateful pupil.”
To which Sir W. Hamilton replied as follows:—
“EDINBURGH, Dec. 4, 1848.
“I feel deeply obliged to you for the kindness
of your letter, and trust that I shall not prove wholly
unworthy of the interest you take in me. There
is indeed no one with whom I am acquainted whose sentiments
on such matters I esteem more highly, for there is
no one who, I am sure, is more earnest for the truth,
and no one who pursues it with more independence and,
at the same time, with greater confidence in the promised
aid of God. May this promised aid be vouchsafed
to me."[7]