wished I would take some other topics besides German authors, but when I told her the alternative would be metaphysics, she laughed and retracted the wish.  We then laughed over several schemes such as these—­that one of us should write a review and another make the book for it afterward; that I should review some book which did not exist and give professed extracts from it, etc.  Soon after Mrs. D. came in and began to talk about “Undine,” which she and her husband have just been reading—­the new translation.  I was amused at their opinion of it.  The most absurd, ridiculous story, she said—­with no rationality, nothing that one can understand in it—­and so on, showing that she had not the slightest idea of a work of fancy merely.  I have been wishing, as I often do, for some records of my past life.  What could I not give for a daily journal as minute as this, beginning from my childhood!  My past life is mostly a blank to me. Aug. 15th.—­I am beginning to see dimly some new truths—­such I believe them to be—­in theology.  I am inclined to think, but do not feel sure, that Redemption, instead of being merely a necessary remedy for a great evil, is in itself the highest positive good, and that the state into which it brings man, of union with God, is a far nobler and better condition than that of primitive innocence, and at the same time a condition attainable in no other way than through redemption, and, of course, through sin.  In this case the plan of redemption, instead of being an afterthought of the divine mind (speaking anthropomorphically), is that in reference to which the whole world-system was contrived.  These thoughts were partly suggested by reading Schleiermacher, who, if I understand him, has some such notions.  If there is any truth in them, do they not throw light on the much-vexed question why God permitted the introduction of moral evil?  Another point which I feel confident is misunderstood by our theologians is the nature of the redemptive act.  The work of Christ in redemption is generally explained to be His incarnation, sufferings, and death, by which He made atonement to justice for the sins of the world.  This, it is true, is a part of what He did; it is that part which He performed in reference to God and His law, but it is not what Coleridge calls the “spiritual and transcendent act” by which He made us one with Himself, and thus secured the possibility of our restoration to spiritual life. Aug. 17th.—­Have devoted almost the whole day to Coleridge’s Literary Remains, which Mr. Davenport brought me.  My admiration, even veneration, for his almost unequalled power is greater than ever, but I can not help thinking that his studies—­some of them—­exerted an unfavorable influence upon him, especially, perhaps, Spinoza. Aug. 22d—­Mr. Park sent me the Life of Mackintosh by his son.  I rejoiced much too soon over it, for it proves very uninteresting.  This is partly to be accounted for from my want of