student of three years back, a linguist and philologist of no common power and attainment.  Mr. Roundell says, ’He had become quite another person.  Self-cultivation had done much for him.  Literature and art had opened his mind and enlarged his interests and sympathies.  The moral and spiritual forces of the man were now vivified, refined, and strengthened by the awakening of his intellectual and esthetic nature.’

Ever reaching forward, however, he was on his guard against, as he said, making the means the end.  Languages were his pleasure, but a pleasure held in check as only subservient to his preparation for the ministry.  He did not mean to use them to the acquirement of academical honour nor promotion, nor did he even rest in the intellectual delight of investigation; he intended them only as keys to the better appreciation of the Scriptures and of the doctrines of the Church, unaware as yet that the gift he was cultivating would be of inestimable value in far distant regions.

In February, while Sir John Patteson was in London, his son James was the cause of much alarm, owing to a mistake by which he swallowed an embrocation containing a large amount of laudanum.  Prompt measures, however, prevented any ill effects; and all danger was over before the letter was sent off which informed Coley of what had happened; but the bare idea of the peril was a great shock to one of such warm affections, and so deeply attached to his only brother.  He wrote the two following letters to his father and sisters on the first impulse on the receipt of the intelligence:—­

’Shrove Tuesday.

’My dearest Father,—­I believe I speak truly when I say that I never in my life felt so thoroughly thankful and grateful to God for His great mercy as I did this morning, on reading of dear Jem’s danger and safety.  He is less accustomed to talk about his feelings than I am, in which I see his superiority, but partly because our tastes are in several respects different, chiefly because of his exceeding amiability and unselfishness.  I am sure we love each other very dearly.  Ever since his illness at Geneva, I have from time to time contemplated the utter blank, the real feeling of loss, which anything happening to him would bring with it, and the having it brought home close to me in this way quite upset me, as it well might.  I pray God that no ill effects may follow, and from what you say I apprehend none.  I have often thought that it is much better when two brothers propose to themselves different objects in life, and pursue them with tastes dissimilar on unimportant matters.  They act better upon one another; just as I look to Jem, as I have more than once told him, to give me a hint when he sees a want of common sense in anything I take up, because I know I act a good deal from impulse, and take an interest in many things which are perhaps not worth the time I spend on them.  It is a mercy that I hope I shall never forget, never cease to be thankful for.