ஆரியர்கள் இந்தியர்களே அது பற்றி சில கருத்துக்கள்

ஆத்மசூரியன் · ஆத்மசூரியன் Wed Mar 09, 2011 9:06 pm

First topic message reminder :

ஆங்கிலேயர்களால் பிரித்தாள்வதற்காக தோற்றுவிக்கப்பட்ட ஆரியர்களின் ஆக்கிரமிப்பு கொள்கைகள் இன்றும் நம் பாடபுத்தகங்களை ஆக்கிரமித்துள்ளது.
ஆரியர்களின் ஆக்கிரமிப்பு கொள்கைகளுக்கு எதிரான வாதங்கள் சிலவற்றை பார்போம்.

1. வேதங்கள் ஆரியர் என்ற வார்த்தையை மனிதர்கள் பின்பற்றக்கூடிய உயரிய குணங்களை உடையவர் என்றே கூறுகிறது.

2. வேதங்களில் ஆரியர் எந்த வெளிநாட்டிலிருந்தும் வந்ததாக தெரிவிக்கவில்லை.

3. 1946 ல் அம்பேத்காரல் எழுதப்பட்ட " யார் சூத்திரர்கள்" என்ற நூலில் மேற்க்கத்தியர்களால் உருவாக்கப்பட்ட ஆரியர் ஆக்கிரமிப்பு கொள்கை பல விஷயங்களை விளக்க தவறி இருக்கிறது. இது முன்னமே உருவாக்கப்பட்டு அதற்கெற்றார் போல் சூழ்நிலைகள் உருவாக்கப்பட்டுள்ளன. என்று கூறியுள்ளார்.

4. சுவாமி விவேகானந்தர் அமெரிக்காவில் ஆற்றிய சொற்பொழிவில் பின்வருமாறு கூறியுள்ளார் "உங்களது ஐரோப்பிய பண்டிதர்கள் கூறுவது போல் ஆரியர்கள் வெளிநாட்டிலிருந்து வந்து இந்தியாவிலுள்ள ஆதி குடிமக்களை வென்று அதிகாரம் செலுத்தினர் என்பது முட்டாள் தனமான பேச்சாகும். இதில் வேடிக்கையானது என்னவென்றால் எங்கள் இந்திய பண்டிதர்களும் அவர்களுக்கு ஆமாம் போடுவது தான்" .

5. அரவிந்தர் அவரது வேதங்களின் ரகசியம் எனும் நூலில் " ஆரியர் ஆக்கிரமிப்பு கொள்கை அதன் தரத்தில் மிகவும் குறைவாகவும் அதன் முக்கியதுவத்தில் நிச்சயமற்றதாகவும் உள்ளது. அதை பற்றிய எந்த ஒரு உண்மையும் முழுமையாக விவரிக்கப்படவில்லை" என்று கூறியுள்ளார்.

6. ஹரப்பா மற்றும் மோகஞ்சதரோ வில் பல ஆயிரம் வருடங்களுக்கு முன்பே நாகரிகங்கள் இருந்ததாக கூறப்படுகிறது . இதை வைதத்து பார்க்கும் பொது ஆரியர்கள் வெளிநாட்டிலிருந்து வந்து இந்த நவீன நகரங்களையும் கலாசாரங்களையும் அழித்திருப்பார் என்று கூறமுடியாது.

7. மேலும் ஹரப்பா மற்றும் மோகஞ்ச்சாதரோவில் பசுபதி எனும் சிவனை வழிபட்டுள்ளனர். அங்கு கண்டுபிடிக்கப்பட்ட சின்னங்களும் இந்து சமயம் சார்ந்ததாகவே உள்ளது. 5000 வருடங்களுக்கு முனதாகவே அதாவது ஆரியர் வந்தனர் என கூறப்படும் காலத்திற்க்கு முன்னதாகவே இந்து சமயம் இந்தியாவில் இருந்தது. எனவே வெளிநாட்டவர் இந்தியா வந்தனர் இந்து சமயத்தை பரப்பினர் என்று கூற வாய்பேயில்லை.

அன்பு தளபதி · அன்பு தளபதி Thu Mar 10, 2011 9:55 pm

But these are only ideas and we will await quietly what God sends. My little horse “ Folly “ is a constant pleasure, but it costs a good deal, and like every one else I expect to be bankrupt !
I shall stay here for Christmas, though I have many invitations. But
I cannot spare the time ; if I dawdle away the summer, I must spend
the winter in working hard,’
To THE Same.
Translation. Oxford, December 21.
‘ You need not begin to frighten yourself about India. If I were to find a chance of visiting it, you would be as pleased as me. It is not out of the world, still less beyond God’s hand. It would be of the greatest use and interest to me. But you see how difficult it is to discuss any plans with you; you make life so difficult for yourself and for others by such incessant fears, and it is so much easier only to find out and dwell on the good and bright side of things. I have had a very bad cold for above a week and am heartily tired of it. My Christmas will be very quiet and lonely whilst you are all eating your StoUe ^ joyfully. The children no doubt are rejoicing not a little at the prospect of Christmas. I wish one could look forward with delight, as one once did. Now one is only glad when something has passed by and is done wilh. The book Brockhaus is bringing out for me is finished at last, the extracts from German authors, from the fifth century to Goethe, with translations of the old German things and notes; but it will not be published till Easter. Then you shall have a copy and read Ulfilas and the Minnesinger. It was a hard bit of work, and I am glad to have done with it. Now I am busy on a book on Indian Religion, and the Veda too is getting on.’
To A Friend.
55, St. John Street, Christmas Eve, 1857.
‘ As one is getting old and looks forward with fear rather than with
hope to what is still in store for us, one learns to appreciate more
^ Christmas cake.

1857] Memory 203
and more the never-failing pleasure of recalling all the bright and happy days that are gone. Gone they are, but they are not lost. Ever present to our calling and recalling, they assume at last a vivid- ness such as they hardly had when present, and when we poor souls were trembling for every day and hour and minute that was going and ever going and would not, and could not, abide.’

CHAPTER XI
1858-1859
Letters of Philindus. Canterbury. German Classics. Fellow of All Souls. Jenny Lind. Birmingham Festival. Correspondent of French Institute. Death of Manuel Johnson. Ancient Sanskrit Literature. Marriage. Germany. Life at Oxford. Mother’s illness. Correspondent of Turin Academy.
In the late autumn of 1857, when England was under the influence of the horrors of the Indian Mutiny, a series of papers appeared in the Times signed Indophilus and Philindus. It was soon known that they were by Sir Charles Trevelyan and Max Miiller respectively. Sir Charles traced the Mutiny solely to the issue of the famous greased cartridges. The first letter by Philindus was entitled ‘The neglect of the study of Indian Languages considered as a cause of the Indian Mutiny.’ It points out that ignorance of the languages pre- vented any real intercourse with the natives, and created a feeling of estrangement, mistrust, and contempt on both sides, and mentions that in the examinations for the Indian Civil Service as many marks could be gained for Italian as for Sanskrit or Arabic. In his second letter Indophilus con- firmed all that Philindus had said, and he advocated the establishment of an institution in London for the teaching of Oriental languages. In his reply Philindus repeated what he had already said on this subject in 1854, and anticipated the speech made thirty-two years later in the presence of the Prince of Wales, our present King. More letters followed from both Indophilus and Philindus, from Mr. Monier Williams and Professor Syed Abdoolah.
These letters were collected and published together as
a small pamphlet, and diligently circulated ; but, as is well

1858] Indophillis and Philindiis 205
known, no arrangements were made by Government to assist their candidates for the Civil Service of India in acquiring the various subjects for examinations ; and when the East India Company ceased to exist their college at Haileybury, where so many eminent Indian civil servants had been educated, came to an end also, and it was left to the private unaided efforts of the English Universities to provide the special teaching required.
The lectures announced by the Professor for this term were on ‘ The Principles of Comparative Philology,’ and he was also reading Faust with a class.
During January Max Miiller paid a visit of some days to his friend Dr. Stanley, then Canon of Canterbury, where he met Whewell, Sir John Herschell, and others. He tells his mother, ‘ We were in all a party of twelve, women as well as men, guests of a young, unmarried man.’ He adds that he had seen nothing of the wedding of the Princess Royal, and had always hoped it might bring Bunsen over, but he did not come. Max adds : —
‘ He has been made Baron without his knowledge or will, and the Prussian nobility may be proud that Bunsen has done them the honour of taking such a title. . . . Things still look bad in India ; and in France they begin to laugh at England — it is only to bring down the Funds, that JMorny may do a little business. But it is splendid when one sees how a small country like England can carry on war with India and China, and quarrel with America, Russia, and France, and yet is always cheerful and never loses her head.’
Truly Max Miiller loved his adopted country, though he could see her faults as well as her virtues. He had been naturalized in October, 1855.
Bunsen writes in February : —
Translatioji.
‘I have read your brilliant article on Welcker in the Saturday
Review with great delight. In fact everything would give me undis-
turbed pleasure did I not see (even without your telling me, which
however you have done, as a sacred duty between friends) that
you are not happy in yourself. Of one thing I am convinced, you
would be just as litde so, even less, in Germany, and least of all among
the sons of the Brahmans. If you continue to live as you do now,
you would everywhere miss England — perhaps also Oxford, if you
w^ent to London. . . . Unfortunately I have neither read Indophilus, nor

2o6 Translations of Greek Classics [ch. xi
Philindus ; please tell me the numbers of the Times. ... I am curious about your German Reading Book. I maintain one thing — you are not happy, and that comes from your bachelor life.’
To A Friend.
55, St. John Street, February 14.
‘ I hear you want some translations of the Greek Classics. Oh that I could read some of them with you ! They ought not to be read as if they were very wise and learned and unintelligible books, but as if they were written by a man whom we know and like. Those ancients were exactly like our modern poets and philosophers. In their time they were read and criticized by men and women not a whit wiser than we are. It is mere pedantry if, instead of reading and enjoying their writings, we sit down to interpret them, and to look grave and wise over their volumes. If Plato and Aristotle came to stay at our house, most of our young ladies, to say nothing of how shocked they would be by their manners, would converse with them as they do with Maurice, or Kingsley. They would tell them where they could not quite agree with the views of those wise philosophers, they would think now and then that they talked nonsense, and might speak more like other gentlemen, and they would thank them for anything really good and sensible they had to say. The real charm of the Classics is the simplicity with which they say things which in our modern writers would be commonplace. They had nobody to imitate, nor had they to avoid saying what others had said before. There is no effort, nothing far-fetched in their prose and poetry. And then they did not write merely because they wished to pubHsh a book. They generally wrote because they felt they had something really important to say. They wrote with their whole heart and soul, and if we read them carefully we sometimes imagine they knew that they would be read for thousands of years, and that they wrote for mankind rather than for the drawing-rooms of Athens.
‘You were right about my article on Welcker in the Saturday Review. I had lately written a good deal for that journal, and had just told the editor that for the present I could write no more, because I wanted to finish some other w’ork. Now that I find you read the paper, I shall write again, and I daresay you will find me out, although my horrid German handwriting is changed into decent English print. There was a short time ago an article on German Mystics ; I sometimes thought of you whilst I was writing it.
I have not yet given up my intention of going to India ; I might have
had an appointment last year, but I found that my mother, though
she wrote she would not dissuade me from going, was so much grieved

1858] Eversley 207
at the thought of never seeing me again, that I felt I ought not to go as long as she lives. I do not know whether it was right, and yet I cannot bring myself to believe it was wrong.’
To Mrs. Kingsley.
55, St. John Street, February 28, 1858.
‘ I received your kind message and I must thank you for it myself, and tell you that I have been longing to spend a few warm and bright days at Eversley. But the spring will not come, and I am busy and have to lecture, and to write, and cannot get away. As soon as the sun comes back, and as soon as I hear from you or Mr. Kingsley that I may come, I shall be delighted. I want to lay in a new stock of happiness, though what I carried away from you last Christmas is by no means exhausted.
‘ I had a letter from Bunsen — he tells me he is pouring out his heart about Hypatia in a preface. Does Mr. Kingsley know of it? Please to tell him also, that my little horse is the most delightful creature, and quite a pet among the Dons and Donnas of Oxford.’
His mother writes early in March that she had been to a ball, to which Max Miiller replies : —
Translation.
‘ There is nothing of that sort for me. Giving lectures and correct-
ing proof-sheets, those are my amusements late and early. Then it is so
cold one is quite shrivelled up, and one cannot ride in such weather,
and the horse eats his head off and has nothing to do ! Froude has
been staying with me. I have already told you my salary is raised to
£500 ; I hoped it would be £600, and that is cheap for all the work ! *
To A Friend.
55, St. John Street, March 7, 1858.
‘ Your letter written with the accompaniment of Beethoven’s Septette
was all music to me. What is time and space, and earth and life, and
all that people call stern reality } While I was reading your letter
I was sitting in a quiet corner of your room — watching the dark cedar
tree that stretches out its broad branches to bless you and your house,
and I listened to every note, and I thought of the happy days when
I drank in the same strange melodies as a child, six years old, and
my mother told me it was so beautiful, and I believed it because she
told me so, and have believed it ever since. And why ? Who can
tell us the meaning of those sounds .? and whence do they come, and
whither do they go ? I once asked my old music-master who had
taught him music, and he told me that he had a master; and then

2o8 Music [cH. XI
I went on asking who had taught his master, and he did not under- stand what I meant, and I remember how his eyes grew bright when I told him, with all the authority of a child, that I was certain that God must have been our first music-master. And now I am thinking ■what he wrote in my album when I left him in 1836 — I was then sent to school at Leipzig. I shall try to translate it for you. “ Music, echo of a distant, harmonious world — sign of the angel within us ; when the word is speechless, and the eye, and the tear, and when our silent hearts lie lonely behind the bars of our breast, it is thou. Music, through whom they call to each other and mingle their distant sighs.” He was a good old man. I hardly know whether he could have written those lines himself, and, as I am writing them down, I think he must have taken them from Jean Paul ; but he must have been a true musician whoever wrote them. Poetry is like poverty — the true poet and the truly poor are ashamed to show what they suffer, and what they are longing for. It is not so with music, and you sometimes find men, who would be ashamed to indulge in any poetical sentiment, plunging with their whole soul into the Unknown, the Infinite, the Beautiful, and the Divine, when it appeals to their hardened hearts with the sounds of music. There is a blessing for every one, and even the cold man of the world has somewhere or other his happy valley and his quiet cottage, where he sees his old friends, his old thoughts, his old feelings, which, if they meet him in the drawing-room, he dismisses with a haughty sneer, as if he had never known them. Excuse my wandering. I must say like you — there is the music, it is all that Septette of Beethoven, which they are playing in the other room.’
The following letter was sent to Max Miiller about this time, from a man who had been long in India, confirming the views advocated by Philindus : —
‘ There seems to be a greater stir than ever in India about education for the natives, and yet in this country young men who obtain direct commissions in the Company’s service are not even obliged to have the slightest knowledge of any vernacular before starting. To such an extent is this carried, that I understand from various pupils who were educated here, that a candidate taking up Hindiastani is looked upon as rather a fool for his pains. I was extremely glad to see from certain letters in the Times that the attention of the future rulers will be directed to this point. The two schemes ought undoubtedly to proceed hand in hand. The poor native ought not to be expected to make every eff”ort to acquire a knowledge of English, without there being also a corresponding efibrt made by his rulers to acquire the native language.’

1858] German Classics 209
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Oxford, April 5.
‘ To-day is Easter Monday, but the Hare has laid no t%g for me, as he used to do in the grandfather’s garden. Instead of that, I have sat the whole day at work, except that this afternoon I had a visit from Sir Charles Trevelyan, and also saw Lord Macaulay, whose sister Trevelyan married. The Jelfs are here . . . and I dine there on Tuesday, and we shall have some music. A little boy was born at the Thomsons’ a few days ago, and one is soon expected at the Kingsleys’, or I should have spent Easter there. I have been several times in London for a couple of days. I had to examine. One evening I heard a fine concert in the new St. James’s Hall. I have such a bad cold that every limb aches, and yet I have to sit and slave from morning till evening. I have had a great deal of writing about an Oriental Institute in London, to be founded by Govern- ment, and then came a change of Ministry, so now we must wait for a new Ministry. My little horse is my best friend. I must spend the summer in my furnace of a room. I am printing an English book on the Veda, and that must be finished off, if I am not first finished off myself, as you very truly remark.’
During this year Max Miiller became more and more intimate with Dr. Thomson, Provost of Queen’s, whose house was always a pleasant change for him from the loneliness and hard work of his own bachelor menage. Mrs. Thomson writes : —
‘I know the Archbishop was more devoted to Mr. Max Miiller than to any of his Oxford friends, and they met almost daily before his marriage. He retained the same warm affection for Mr. Max Miiller to the end of his life, and did so enjoy having him at Bishop- thorpe. The Archbishop sympathized in all the difficulties about his marriage, which were confided to him, as Mr. Max Miiller had helped him in all the difficulties of his own marriage a few years before.’
At Easter Max Miiller’s German Classics was published, and was welcomed in Germany as warmly as in England. The Times reviewed it later in the year most favourably : —
‘ Unlike all other books of extracts we know, it is compiled with
a view of systematizing its contents. The extracts are not thrown
together at the capricious suggestion of personal taste, but the
Professor has chosen only characteristic specimens, and has so ar-
ranged them in their relative sequence that they suggest, as it were,
a history of the literature of his country. His brief preface shows the
I P

2IO All Souls Fellowship [ch. xi
scope of his design, and, brief as it is, is the best History of German Literature, in its relation of social changes, with which we are acquainted. . . . We can accept this as an English class-book, peculiarly adapted for our own special purposes.’
On May 9 Max writes to his mother that he cannot ask her to visit him this year ; he is so overwhelmed with work, both in Oxford and elsewhere, that she would have to be much alone. Probably the whole summer must be spent at work, but if he can find time for a week or two in Germany, he comforts her with the assurance that he will go to her. The same letter mentions the death of his old friend Gathy. ‘ I felt it very much. ... I had so often seen him of late years ; he was a thoroughly brave and honest man. The old friends are gather- ing on the other side, and he must be happier there than here.’ A very few days after writing the above Max Miiller was asked whether he would accept a Fellowship at All Souls if it were offered to him. It was the very thing needed at that time to make his life happier and less lonely ; the offer was entirely unexpected, and was accepted with great thankfulness. He often mentioned in later years that, as he entered the College after his election, he said to himself, * My home for the rest of my life. I shall not leave this till I am carried out.’
Letter from Sir Robert Herbert.
March 3, 1902.
‘To Mrs. Max Mijller, — Mr. Robarts has told me that you
would like to hear from me anything I can tell you about the
circumstances connected with your husband’s election to a fellowship
at All Souls. The story is a very simple one. The person to whom
credit is principally due for a step unprecedented at that time — the
election of a foreign gendeman to an Oxford fellowship — was the late
Henry Coxe, the Librarian of the Bodleian. He and his wife were
intimate friends of my family and myself, and I used often to pass
a quiet evening with them in Beaumont Street, and meet there
Max Miiller, for whom Mr. Coxe from the first entertained a warm
friendship. I thus became aware that while the status and home
afforded by a College fellowship would be an advantage and con-
venience to your husband, he would, on his part, contribute much
honour and pleasure to the College that might secure him as a fellow,
and I cordially joined with Mr. Coxe in pressing upon the Fellows of
All Souls the advisability of electing him under the special power

i8=i8 All Souls

211

of doing so conferred by the new statutes. Max Miiller could not have failed to find in Oxford a great number of warm friends and admirers, but in the earlier days of his residence there, it must have been a comfort to him to have a home in the College which was so proud of him. — Yours very sincerely, ‘ Robert G. M. Herbert.’
Max Miiller’s large sitting-room on the ground floor next the Library, in the corner of the great Quad, commanded a beauti- ful view of the spire of St. Mary’s and the dome of the Rad- cliffe Library, a view that was a constant delight to him, and was always pointed out to his visitors with loving appreciation.
To Dr. Acland.
St. John Street, May 26, 1858.
‘ My dear Acland, — I never thought that anything would happen to me again on which I should be congratulated, but I certainly do appreciate the very kind feeling which prompted the Fellows of All Souls to elect me, and in a dark night even the smallest light is welcome. I am looking forward with great pleasure to living in College, but at present there is no set of rooms where I could put up all my books, &c. I am confident I shall feel quite at home at All Souls for the rest of my life. Wherever our Father leads us, there is our Fatherland.’
To HIS Mother.
Translation. All Souls College, y««^ 7, 1858.
‘ You will wonder when you see my new address. The bells have been rung again for me in Oxford, for I have, quite unexpectedly, received a fellowship in All Souls College. I have very nice rooms, but I only begin really moving to-morrow, and therefore write to-day, as I shall at first have no time for letters. I had no idea of it, and the thing has excited great surprise. A fortnight ago I was asked if I should have any objection if I were elected, and the next day I was elected. Why they elected me I have no idea : it is a great distinction. What I like best is being free from the trouble of housekeeping. My house will be let ; my furniture I bring to my rooms here. The rooms are larger, three of them. But now I can’t marry, or receive you as a guest. The Jelfs are here, and are very sorry that I have joined the Monks. Nearly all our fellows belong to the best families in England, several are members of Parliament, some in the IMinistry. So you see monkhood is bearable, and I need not have a tonsure ! The lectures are nearly over, and in a fortnight I think of going to the seaside.’
P %

212 M. M. at All Souls [ch. xi
From the Dean of Ripon.
• My dear Mrs. Max Muller, — You ask me to tell you some of my recollections of your husband in the early days before you were married. I fear they are scanty ; but it is pleasant, as he found it, to make an excursion into Aiild Lang Syne.

‘When I went up to Balliol in 1850, he had just begun to give lectures on what was then a new subject, Comparative Philology. I think he had been so immersed in the Rig-veda during the two previous years, that his powers as a lecturer had hardly been tested ; but his delight in his subject, his clearness of exposition, and his excellent English, not the worse for the slight foreign accent which he always retained, carried us all away. And the ease with which he traced the starding changes of words, such as that which derived the French word mane from se77iet tpsissimum, came like a series of dissolving views. All such things have become common property long ago, chiefly owing to his very readable books on the science of language and kindred subjects.
‘I met him only occasionally during my undergraduate course.
Eight years make a great difference at that time of life. But while
I was a curate at Claydon I had the happiness to come across his
memorable Essay on Comparative Mythology. It was the best
counteraction that could be to the narrowness which sometimes besets
an earnest pastorate, and carried one into regions before undreamed
of both of history and of thought. I was then a fellow of All Souls,
and I went back there in 1857 to read under Stanley, who had just
become Professor of Ecclesiastical History. It was then that the
happy thought occurred to some of our fellows, first, I think, to my
old friend Robert Herbert, to invite Max Miiller to become a fellow of
the College. This was done under the new Ordinance of the Com-
missioners for giving effect to the Oxford Reform Act of 1854, which
allowed us to elect a Professor, a man of literary distinction, to an
“ Exceptional Fellowship,” one which bound him neither to residence,
nor to celibacy. He was elected in the beginning of 1858; and,
though I was at that time appointed to a College living sixteen miles
from Oxford, I saw him every time I drove into the city. I remember
especially one such time in the summer of 1858, which (all my
parishioners being in the harvest field) I spent in my College rooms,
having arranged to meet one of our fellows, Godfrey Lushington, to read
German together. We were puzzling over some difficult expressions
in Lessing’s great “ Essay on the Education of Mankind,” when Max
came to our rescue, and devoted a large part of two days to our
benefit. It was delightful to see his enthusiasm in drawing out the

1858] Cartoon of the Carita 213
thoughts of one of the greatest of his countrymen, and one hardly realized — he was so simple and genial — that one was being taught by one of the leading philologists in Europe.
‘ The Ordinance under which we elected him demanded, though in language not perfectly clear, that we should choose our fellows according to their merits as shown by the examination ; but the old custom still remained of choosing them as one would the members of a social club, and I was one of three who had appealed to the Visitor against this practice. The dispute lasted some five or six years, and I am afraid must have given Max some days of discomfort, though his lot was otherwise enviable. He tried to mediate, and asked, but in vain, that the examiners should report a small list of fit candidates between whom the choice should be made. The decision was eventually given according to our contention: but Max, though mainly on our side, had, I think, what is called a “ sneaking kindness “ for the old system — had he not been elected by the College as it was ? — and maintained that those who, as the Saturday Revietv said, were chosen for “ what are vaguely called social considerations,” formed a pleasing variety in the monotony of Oxford residents. But though he used to complain that he sometimes suffered from being identified with us, who were spoken of as the Sepoys in allusion to the Indian Mutiny of 1857-8, I am sure he never had an enemy in the College. He was always genial, and had nothing of the mere Don in him. On occasions such as the annual Gaudy on All Souls’ Day, he would become the German student again, and join with the somewhat tumultuous merriment of the younger fellows, and be induced to sing “ Gaudeamus igitur.” If ever there was a cloud upon his brow, it was from a cause unknown to us, and was happily dissipated by the event so full of blessing to you and to him in the following year, 1859. It has always been a dark spot of disappoint- ment to me in the retrospect, that I was prevented by a sharp touch of fever from being present at your wedding.
‘ Of all that came after that event no one can speak so well as
yourself. But I do not like to close this letter without a word
expressive of the value that I entertained for his friendship and for his
teaching. I never knew him other than a kind and generous friend,
and a delightful companion. He would frankly give one of his best
on any subject, grave or gay. I remember, w’hen he brought home
from Italy the cartoon of the Carita, that he asked me to look at it in
his library, and to say whose work I thought it to be; and when
I said that, though I was not much of a judge, I should have assigned
it to Andrea del Sarto, he showed as much pleasure as if it had been
the testimony of a connoisseur. But I think that his mind turned

214 Saturday Review [ch. xi
more and more to the problems of religion ; and it is my belief that his researches and his teaching have done as much as those of any man of his generation to enlarge the horizon of men’s views, and to win for Christian faith a truer and a wider basis.
‘ Believe me, yours sincerely and affectionately,
‘ W. H. Fremantle.’
To HIS Mother.
Translation. All Souls College, y«/y ii.

‘ When I was in London I made the acquaintance of Jenny Lind. She has a very nice house near Richmond. I called on her twice, and heard the Swedish singers at her house. But she will not sing herself any more, and that is a great mistake. I went too to a great gathering at Harrow ; Lord Palmerston was there, and Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, and all the beau monde of London, and when my name was mentioned there were great cheers. Then I went to a great whitebait dinner at Greenwich, but all this was very tiring. I went too to a concert at the Crystal Palace, 2,500 people in the chorus and orchestra, and yet it was not powerful enough, unless one was quite near.’
In July Bunsen writes to congratulate : —
Translation. Charlottenberc/w/j^ 31.
‘ Nothing could be more agreeable and suitable ; it is personally and nationally an honour, and a unique acknowledgement. I can only add the wish that you may enjoy the dignity itself as short a time as possible, and take leave as soon as possible of the Fellow celibates of All Souls. Your career in England wants nothing but this crowning-point. How prosperous and full of results has it been ! Without ceasing to be a German you have appropriated all that is excellent and superior in English life, and of that there is so much, and it will last for life.’
For several years Max MUller had been a regular contributor
to the Satw’day Review^ and the titles of his articles show
the variety of questions that interested him: — The Transactions
of the Philological Society, Dialects of Algeria, Chinese
Buddhist Pilgrims, Hindustani Literature and the King of
Oude, The Origin of Goethe’s Fmist^ Renan’s Essays on the
History of Religion, The English Alphabet applied to the
Languages of Lidia, German Mystics, Anglo-Indian Phraseo-
logy, and Latham’s Celtic Philology, were among the topics
treated by his facile pen. He looked on these writings as

1858] Jenny Lind 215
a recreation, as a change from Indian Civil Service and Mili- tary examinations, from lectures, and from collating and editing the Rig-veda. He had already in 1 857 begun to put together the materials for his History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature, which required considerable research in works which at that time only existed in manuscript. The Bodleian meetings also made constant demands on his time. No wonder that he complains so often of being worn and weary, and longing for rest.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. All Souls, August 6.

‘ I returned yesterday from London, where I had to examine for a whole week from ten till six. My head at last began to buzz, and I am glad that it is over and my holidays at last begin. The summer here is delicious and my monk’s life very pleasant. The front view from my windows is beautiful, and I have the whole College to myself, ten servants, &c. ; who can want more ? I invite my friends to dinner, and nothing is wanting but that you could visit me in my new home, and it is sad that that cannot be. I can only invite ladies for great festivities. Did I tell you that I paid Jenny Lind a visit lately and she sang to me nearly the whole of the Sclmie Mullerin, and so perfectly ? She loves the poems, and she said to me, “ I felt I mtist sing them to you.” She sang them with so much expression that it was like a real opera ; I hardly recognized the songs. Then she sang Schumann and Mendelssohn. It went on from four in the afternoon till one in the night, and then she sent us in her carriage back to London — Benedict, Joachim, and Piatti. Joachim played very well, and Piatti’s cello was splendid. In fact it was perfection, and she is a most interesting woman, and when she likes very agreeable. I heard lately from Bunsen ... he invited me to Heidelberg for his birthday, August 26, but I had to write that I could not come, and I must tell you now, I must stay this summer in England. I have had too many interruptions in my work, and must use the holidays to make the time good. You know how gladly I would go to you, but I should not feel it right, for I am quite well, and do not want rest. I have been riding a great deal, which is always good for me.’
To a friend, to whom he had sent a little novel, very popular just then, A Lost Love^ he writes : —
All Souls, September 10.
‘ Is there such a thing as a Lost Love ? I do not believe it.
Nothing that is true and great is ever lost on earth, though its

2i6 Binningham Festival [ch...^i
fulfilment may be deferred beyond this short life. Marriage is meant for this life only, but love is eternal, and all the more so, if it does not meet with its fulfilment on earth. If once we know that our lives are in the hands of God, and that nothing can happen to us without His will, we are thankful for the trials which He sends us. Is there any one who loves us more than God ? any one who knows better what is for our real good than God ? This little artificial and complicated society of ours may sometimes seem to be outside His control, but if we think so, it is our own fault, and we have to suffer for it. We blame our friends, we mistrust ourselves, and all this because our wild hearts will not be quiet in that narrow cage in which they must be kept to prevent mischief.’
To HIS Mother.
Translation, Septemher 15.

‘I have just lately had a good deal of enjoyment from the Bir- mingham Festival, where I went to hear the Elijah and Messiah, &c. It was splendid. I was on a visit to the Minister of Education near Birmingham, and we drove in each day. English country life is so pleasant; nowhere else is there anything like it. Then I spent a couple of days at Rugby with the head master. Will you send me the book of Weber’s songs with “ Mein Schatz, der ist auf der Wander- schaft “ ? I have played it to a very dear friend of mine, and she wishes to have it. She is the daughter of Lord Denbigh, where I often go to stay ; she sings well, and you would like her.’
Max MUller had carried through his resolution of spending the chief part of Long Vacation in College. He often said later he was looked at with very dubious eyes by the College servants, who were in general completely their own masters in ‘ the Long,’ but were obliged to stay in College if a Fellovv^ was in residence.
It is evident from the following letter that the feeling of
soreness between Max Miiller and M. Renan had quite passed
away. The article translated by M. Renan was the one
which originally appeared in the first number of Oxford
Essays, and was afterwards reprinted in all the editions of
Chips. - ...
To M. Renan. i j,’
All Souls, October 27.
‘ I have looked over the translation of my Comparative Mythology
and I think it is excellent. I am extremely obliged to you, and still
more to Madame Renan, for the trouble you have taken in making

1858] Jenny Lind at All Souls 217
my English language and my German thought palatable to the French public. The corrections I have made bear chiefly on Sanskrit words. ... In a few passages which I have marked, the chain of the argu- ment seems to me somewhat broken by omitting some of my illustra- tions. But I leave this entirely to your judgement, as you know how far one may try the patience of the French public.
‘ I should be glad to have your name on the title-page, as intro- ducing my essay — as you have so kindly done — in the Revue Ger7Jia- nique. It might perhaps be as well to add to my name, “ Professeur a rUniversitd d’Oxford” or Fellow of All Souls College at Oxford, only I do not know how the latter can be rendered in French. . . .
‘ I have received the second edition of your Granimaire Co?npar^e, and I have to thank you for it in more than one sense. No doubt we shall always differ on some points in the early history of language, and I shall have to oppose some of your views with all my power.
But I feel confident that no diff”erence of opinion with regard to
scientific questions will ever lead again to any personal misunder-
standing between you and me, and I beg to assure you of my sincere
respect and gratitude,’
The lectures this term were on ‘ The Parts of Speech.’ In the Summer Term Max Muller had given a course on ‘The Origin and Formation of the French Language,’ continuing also his class for reading Fattst.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Oxford, Novejnher ii.

‘ I had a large dinner of 1 4 and an evening party the other day. Jenny Lind was here, and would sing nowhere but at my party. It was wonderfully beautiful. You can imagine that people were very anxious for invitations and it all went very well. She came first in the morning to practise a little, then in the evening she sang Mozart’s “Batti, batti,” Mendelssohn’s “Auf Fliigel der Gesanges,” Swedish songs, Schumann, and Weber’s “Mein Schatz, der ist auf der Wander- schaft.” She came again the next day and sang Schumann and Schubert: it was a great treat, but really almost exhausting.’
To THE Same.
Translaiion. Blenheim Palace, December 6.
‘ You would be surprised to -see me sitting here on my birthday,
not at All Souls, but on a visit to the Duke of Marlborough, Last
week I spent a few days in the country in the house of Lord Lovelace,
who married Byron’s daughter. It is now inhabited by one of the

2i8 Oriental Studies in England [ch. xi
Judges, the same who managed the divorce of Lord and Lady Byron, a most interesting old man. Yes, you are right when you say I cannot be grateful enough to God for all the goodness He has shown me, my whole life long. My present position is really, of its kind, quite perfect, and if I only keep well I am thoroughly satisfied. Here I was called away to dinner, which was splendid ; we dined in the Rubens room, and opposite me hung Rubens and his wife, Andromeda, and Phillip of Spain. We were twenty-four at dinner.
After dinner we wandered about the rooms. There was a splendid
Erard in one room, and we had some music; the next day I saw
the pictures in the private rooms, which one cannot see otherwise,
the gems, the sketches, then more music. The Duchess is musical
and very friendly. They asked me to stay another day, but I could
not. Two days later I had a party from Blenheim to luncheon — Lord
Denbigh’s family, &c. It went off very well. The Jelfs are here,
and we have a great deal of music’
To M. Kenan.
All Souls, December 15.
‘I have just read your severe remarks on Oriental St^dies in
England, in one of the recent numbers of the De’bals. You are partly
right, and I was delighted to see how well you perceived the real and
true value of the discovery of the Vedas for the reconstruction of the
annals of the human mind, and the right appreciation of the earliest
efforts of man in his search for his true home in God. But how few
perceive this importance of ancient Sanskrit literature even now. How
few of our best Sanskrit scholars are aware that the stones which they
bring to light are the relics of a real temple, and the object of
philology is not only to cut stones and collect rubbish, but to find
the foundations and ground-plan of that lost Sanctuary. We are
all progressing, and the importance of our studies dawns upon us by
degrees. To the early Greek refugees, the Greek which they taught
in Italy was not the key to a lost civilization, not the lever, as it

அன்பு தளபதி · அன்பு தளபதி Thu Mar 10, 2011 9:56 pm

turned out to be, that was to lift the dead weight of the Middle Ages ;
it was simply an accompHshment, the mark of a cultivated mind
and curiosity. Surely there was something grand in the enthusiasm
of the faith with which men like Sir W. Jones and Colebrooke
pierced into the jungle of Sanskrit, and where should we be if Wilson
had not opened to us many a smooth road into that enchanted
forest ? However, I know what you mean, only the absence of a
bold critical spirit is not to be ascribed to the English nation as
a whole, it is the languid temper of the present generation. But then

1858] Christmas at All Souls 219
there was a time when England had giants in thought, and Davids in boldness and faith. It will come again, and even now what you take for indolence and cowardice is more truly a feeling of awe at the greatness of the questions which now occupy the best minds in France, in Germany, and in England. You and your friends in Paris do much service by recognizing and patronizing what is good and genuine in the literary life of Germany. You might do the same for England, and thus raise your Revue Germanique to a Revue Teuio7iique, including Scandinavia, England, and America. I also read another article of yours, or rather an extract from your forth- coming translation of the Book of Job, with great interest. Might I ask you whether anything has been done to carry your reprint of your translation of my Essay on Mythology through the Press? I sent you the proof-sheets some time ago, but have not heard of it since. I have been very busy, as I am printing a book on the Vedic Age. I hoped it would have been out before now, but I have so many things to read, as I am going on with my work, that it will hardly be published before Easter. In the summer the fourth volume of the Veda will be finished, if my health allows me to work hard. As soon as I have brought out my book, I have promised to write several reviews, among the rest one on your Origine de la langice, but at present I have not a single moment to spare for anything but the Veda!
Christmas was passed by Max Miiller in All Souls — the only Christmas he was destined to pass inside the College walls — and the wish expressed in the following letter was to be fulfilled in a way he little imagined as he wrote it : —
To Miss Grenfell^
All Souls, December 30.
‘ I cannot let this old year pass away without once more writing to you. It seems such a long time since I heard from you. If I had followed my inclination you would have received many a letter from me. ... I felt convinced that even without hearing from you, I might always trust in the continuance of that friendship which has been to me a rich source of blessing for many years. I hear about you now and then from our common friend Mr. Walrond, and it is always a pleasure to listen to the cheerful account he gives of you, and all your party. I am glad you appreciate him, and the longer you know him the more you will find how well he deserves your con- fidence and esteem. This has been a very important year to me, ^ The aunt who had educated his future wife.

220 Foreign Member of French Institute [ch. xi
and I know not whether I should be more thankful for the trials I have had to go through, or for the blessings which God has showered upon me. Much more has been given me than I ever asked for, and I feel as if I had no more to wish for in this life. I have found a home, and a very pleasant home, as you will see when you come to Oxford. I have no cares, and if my health continues there is plenty of work for me to do. It is not such a life as I thought mine would be; you know what I have lost. I wish you all a very happy New Year, and I hope that this coming year may sometimes lead us together ! ‘
The early days of the year 1859 brought Max MUller a
great distinction ; he was made a Corresponding Member
of the French Institute, the youngest man ever elected to
this honour.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. All ^omis., January 23, 1859.
‘ Your wishes for the New Year have brought me a good beginning.
. . . This is really the only distinction that I have always wished for,
and I have been not a little pleased at it. It is better than Orders,
and I don’t think that Tischendorf with all his hangings has been
chosen a Corresponding Member of the French Institute. Here in
Oxford and London it has been much talked about. It is so peaceful
here in the holidays that I cannot make up my mind to go away,
though I have a number of invitations, often from people I hardly
know. But I prefer sitting quietly at my work, which is getting on.
George Bunsen has been with me, and told me many things. Let us
hope there will be no rising in Berlin. Then your papers would go
down again, but never mind, my Sanskrit papers never go down !
My life here is really perfect of its kind, and I say always, things go
too well with me.’
To M. Renan.
All ‘&OVLS, January 3.
‘ Though I cannot say with Goethe I believe that I am of the religion of Job, yet I thank you most heartily for your Livre de Job. Your introduction is excellent, but now and then one feels like a cat stroked the wrong way. I shall hardly be able to resist the temptation of saying something about it in the Saturday Revieiv, though I have made a vow not to write any reviews till I have finished my own book. I like very much that little hint you give about Aurora, and your reasons why Hebrew remains so barren in myths.
Is it not owing also to the strongly marked radical features of every
Semitic word, every one telling its own tale by its three letters, and

1859] Manuel Johnson 221
retaining its appellative power against all equivocation? How can you have pantomimes if every person as soon as he comes on the stage tells you that he is not the Lion, but Smug the Joiner ? But the Aryan nations have had their revenge. When language had played all her tricks on them, they let her go, and made themselves a new language, and called it Philosophy, and that language the Semites have never learnt. I was delighted, as I need not tell you, at my election at the “ Institut,” and I thank you for your kind and active support. I wish I could do it in person, but till July I must slave at Oxford.’
The lectures announced for this term were on ‘The Principles of Etymology,’ with a catechetical class on German Classics, Max Miiller’s own work being used as the text-book.
Early in March, Max experienced a great sorrow in the sudden death of Mr. Manuel Johnson, the Radcliffe Observer, one of his earliest friends in Oxford, at whose house when he first arrived in 1848 he met many of the leaders of the High Church party, men of true piety, and many of them really learned, and yet, to the great surprise of the young scholar, almost entirely interested in purely ecclesiastical questions — the validity of Anglican orders, whether gowns or surplices should be worn in the pulpit, whether the candles on the altar should be lighted or not — all trifles that made Max MUller ask Manuel Johnson, ‘ What has all this to do with true religion ? ‘ But though Johnson told Max Muller he ‘ did not understand,’ he remained his faithful friend to the last. Max dined almost every Sunday at the Observatory, and when his mother stayed with him she met with much kindness from Manuel Johnson and his wife. He married late in life, and in his bachelor days the large garden at the Observatory was the constant resort of men like Church, Mozley, Palgrave, Pollen, Burgon, &c. His collection of artistic treasures was a never-failing source of delight, and Max Miiller tells us he ‘ learned much from his Italian engravings and Dutch etchings, which he delighted in showing.’
To Dr. Pauli.
Translation. All Souls, March 13.

• The sudden death of Johnson has been a great shock. For many years I have not lost any more intimate friend, and one often forgets

222 Ancient Sanskrit Literature [ch. xi
where one really lives, and what a little step it is which divides us from those who have gone before us. The death of our friends is an earnest warning, and as such, in spite of the sorrow, is rich in blessing. You must have experienced this in the fearful trial God laid on you. I need not say that I shared your sorrow, but I would not intrude on your grief, and did not write, though I knew you were in London. I know from experience that one would rather get through the hard struggles of life in silence and alone, and when one has done so, one can turn again slowly towards life, and to one’s friends round one, without having to talk over what is past. Work is a great help and comfort, and I rejoice that you have taken up your great work again. Johnson often spoke of you to me, and especially lately. He would so gladly have seen you here as Professor of Anglo- Saxon. For an Englishman he was wonderfully liberal, and I owe my position in Oxford chiefly to his influence. I shall long miss him. He was always the same, open, hearty and joyous. Well, the sorrows of life, like all other things, pass away, and the larger the number who await us beyond, the easier the parting from those we leave behind. I wish you would come to Oxford . . . but write beforehand, as I am feeling so shaken, I may go to the seaside for change.’
This spring his sister was again in great anxiety about one of her children, and Max Miiller always felt his distance from all his own people keenly when they were in sorrow. He writes : —
To HIS Mother.
Translation. All Souls, March 26.
‘ I often wish I could help in bearing some of your anxieties, for I have little here to make me anxious ; however, you would say little pleasure either. But I am satisfied as it is, and thankful for the peace in which my life passes. You have little idea how comfortable the life in College is, and how one lives all day only for oneself and one’s work, without being disturbed by anything. I am printing my book on Ancient Sanskrit Literature, and hope it will be ready by Whitsun- tide. A French translation of my article on Comparative Mytho- logy is just out, by Renan. I suppose I shall have to go to Paris to thank them for my election. I was elected with Lepsius, and am the youngest member.’
He finishes the letter in London, where he was examining. ‘ I am staying with Walrond, who is still unmarried ; so you see there are other people who are as sensible as I am.’
All through this spring Max MUller worked hard at his

1859] J^^’ Buhler 223
Ancient Sanskrit Literahtrc, in which he had embodied the
Prolegomena to the Rig-vcda, written ten years before, which
had at the time called forth Professor Wilson’s wrath. Though,
through Bunsen’s influence, the East India Company gave it
their patronage, and promised the money for its publication,
it never was published. The reason for this is explained in
the preface to this new work. Ten sheets had been printed,
vi^hen Max Muller’s election to the Professorship of Modern
European Languages, and the three courses of lectures each
year which this election involved, obliged him to lay aside his
general Sanskrit studies, and confine the time not needed by
the duties of his Professorship, exclusively to the editing of the
text and Commentary of the Rig-veda. But though ten years
had elapsed since the Prolegomena had been written, Max
Muller found that his original views had not been proved
erroneous, either by his own later researches, or by the works
of other Vedic scholars, and that the greater part of the
original manuscript could have been printed as it was. In
these ten years many new and young Vedic scholars had
arisen, and their works were carefully examined and frequent
reference is made to them throughout the book. It is in his
preface to this work that Max Muller first mentions a young scholar, Dr. Buhler, then copying and collating Vedic MSS. in London and Oxford. They soon became fast friends, and it was Max Muller who obtained for Dr. Buhler the appoint- ment in India which he filled with such distinction for nearly twenty years. During all that time the friends corresponded on literary questions, and though they often differed, their friendship was close and unbroken. After Dr. Biihler’s return from India they met from time to time, and always with a feeline of warm attachment. Max Muller after Dr. Biihler’s untimely death in 1898, which affected him deeply, wrote :
‘We always exchanged our books and our views on every subject that occupied our interest in Sanskrit scholarship, and though we sometimes differed, we always kept in touch.
We agreed thoroughly on one point — that it did not matter
wJio was right, but only what was right.’ Ancient Sanskrit
Literature was carefully reviewed by the venerable scholar
Barthelemy-St.-Hilaire, in five articles in the Jotirnal des

224 Ancient Sanskrit Literature [ch. xi
Savants^ that famous periodical, now nearly 1^0 years old, the contributors to which must all be members of the Institute of France. ‘ This new work of M. Max MuUer,’ says the reviewer, ‘ shows considerable progress in Vedic studies ; it answers and explains a number of interesting and doubtful questions, and it traces for Vedic literature a limit which according to our view is definite. It has brought order and light into the huge and confused treasure-house of the primi- tive monuments of the Brahmanic religion, and this systematic arrangement rests on a basis which appears well founded.’
‘ The History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature will add greatly to
the distinction with which the name of M. Max Miiller is already
so justly marked. The book of which I am writing is of so high
an order that one may well doubt whether any one for a long time to
come will surpass, or even equal it/
Professor H. H. Wilson also wrote an elaborate review of
the work, which appeared in the Edinburgh Review, October,
i860, being the last thing Professor Wilson ever wrote ; in fact
the ink of the last words was scarcely dry before the fine old
scholar passed away. ‘ It is not possible,’ he says, * in a brief
survey like the present, to render justice to a work every page
of which teems with information that no other scholar ever
has, or could have, placed before the public’
A second edition was called for within a year, but so rapid was the progress of Vedic studies at that time, that Max Miiller, though often urged to do so, would not publish a third edition, being compelled, after his rejection for the Chair of Sanskrit, to turn his attention mainly to other studies.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. All Souls, Easter Sunday, 1859,
‘ I am overwhelmed with work, but I have found time to read that
book of Schleiermacher of which you wrote to me, and I read it with
great interest. It is an important book, more important than his
writings. Whether the publication was right it is difficult to say. It is
like a post mortem. Many would shrink from it, and yet one learns
much from it and it may be of use. Men are so made that they
seem ashamed of what is best in themselves, and then it is well to
have such books to show us that men are all much better than they

1859] Mokslia Mulara 2.2.^
seem to be. I am now reading Perthes Life, which holds much that is important, but without the poetry of Schleiermacher’s surroundings, I can well understand that after reading these books you long for some of the Greek Classics, but it is difficult to enter into the old simple life and thoughts ; and to enjoy the beautiful and true as they were then felt and thought of, requires longer and more gradual study. You know Schleiermacher’s Plato, but it is not easy to enjoy ;
Phaedrus is understandable, also the Symposium and Phaedon, and these are enough to give you an idea of Plato as a man. I can settle nothing about my summer plans. To begin with, war is sure to break out in Italy, and it may be that powder and shot will be seen on the Rhine.’
It was about this period that the natives of India began to speak of Max Miiller as ‘ Moksha Mulara,’ which was thus ex- plained by one of their Pundits : ‘ He who by publishing the Veda for the first time in a printed form gave {ra) the root, {inilla) the foundation, the knowledge of final beatitude {moksha)^ he is called Moksha Mulara.’ At the present day this Indianized form of his name is in common use amonsf those who know his works.

*iD

To HIS Mother.
Translation. All Souls, May 29.

‘ I am very tired, and yet I have still so much to do before I can get away. Now there are the lectures, and I am printing and writing away at my book. Then I have four examinations before me, and then, please God, I shall start. Here in England things are quiet, but they begin to form volunteer corps. The undergraduates drill and shoot, and we are making ready for whatever comes. My horse costs a lot of money, but not so much as a wife. I have been again in London to hear Jenny Lind and Joachim — beautiful. I sat by the Archbishop of Canterbury. Then I had Deichmann the violinist here, and a party to which Mrs. Gaskell (Mary Barton) came. And so one fights one’s way through life, and receives many a black eye ! I am very sorry not to have seen old Humboldt again, and indeed for him it was time to rest — he has done his day’s work.’
And now, after three years of silence and separation, borne
submissively as the will of God, bright prospects suddenly
opened, and within a fortnight of the last letter to his mother,
Max Miiller was asked to Ray Lodge as the future husband
of her he had loved for nearly six years. His friend Walrond
I Q

226 Engagement [ch. xi
was engaged to her younger sister, and life appeared one dream of happiness to the two sisters. The day after his arrival at Ray Lodge. Max IMiiller wrote to her uncle, his friend Charles Kingsley : —
Ray Lodge. Uliil-Sunday, 1859.
‘ Can you believe it ? I cannot. I knew not that the world con- tained such happiness. You know what we have suffered, and now think of us, and pray for us to God. that He may help and teach us how to bear such joy and blessing. The past was so dark and awful, and the world now is so happy and bright. We shall meet on Tuesday. I long to see my new dear aunt, my old dear friend j\Irs. Kingsley. Oh, this world of God is full of wonders, but the greatest of all wonders is love.’
Baron Bunsen wrote on July 23 : —
Translaiicm.
‘ My sons knew too well what delight they would give me by their communication, which has already given us all a foretaste of the delight of your \isit with your bride, and meanwhile has brought me yoiu- aflfecdonate letter. I have felt all these years what was the matter with you. and I sympathize with your happiness as though it concerned one of my own children. I therefore now, my loved friend, wish you all the more happiness and blessing in the acquisition of the highest of life’s prizes, because your love has already shown the right effect and strength, in that you have acquired courage for finishing at this present time your diflBcult and great work on the Veda. The work will also give vou further refi’eshment for the future, whilst the editing of the Veda still hangs on vour hands. Therefore let us all -R-ish you joy most heartily (my wife has received the joyful news in Wildbad), and accept our united thanks beforehand for your kind intention of visiting us shortly with your yotmg wife. By that time we shall all be united here. Beg your bride beforehand to feel friendly towards me and towards us all. You know how highly I esteem her two aunts, though ■without personal acquaintance with them, and how dear to me is the cultivated, noble, Christian circle in which the whole family moves.’
His devoted mother wrote, on receiving tlie news of his engagement from her son : —
Translation. Carlsbad, June 16, 1859.
‘ My dear, my happy Max, — I write to you a few lines in the greatest
excitement of body and mind, so that my most ardent wishes and

1859] Engagement 227
blessings may reach you even before I seem to be able to take in all the happiness. Yes, I thank God with all my heart for my son, who is the pride and happiness and blessing of my life ! I thank God with all my heart for my son, to whom He has given his heart’s desire, and I ask God that it may be for His children’s blessing !
‘ A being whom you have chosen and whom you have known and loved for such a long time, must be worthy of you, and I will love her with you, as long as I live. My dear, dear Max, if I could but throw my arms round you and press you to my heart! Here I am all alone, so far from you, and I have nobody near who could calm and understand my over-full heart.
‘ Think what all those who love you so will say to it ! And soon you will have a wife, and the happy time of your engagement will be very short, and I am to see you in your great happiness with your wife !
‘I cannot write any more, my dear, good Max, the excitement has been too much for me ; and you know all I should like to say to you, you know how I love you ! And for this my love’s sake youi* wife will love me a little ! God’s richest blessings be on you both ! I press you to my full heart in deepest love, and I thank God with you.
‘ If you can, write to me soon again. You can imagine how much
I should like to know ever}lhing. Farewell, my dear, good Max, and
bring your G. to see me as soon as possible. With truest love,
‘ Your faithful ^Mother.’
Extracts from letters written during June and July : —
‘A soul to which I cling with my soul. What is it? What is that
soul ? Who made it ? Who sent it here ? Who led it on by slow
degrees till it should meet that other soul which belonged to it from
the very beginning, and longed for it as for its better Self.? These
are awful mysteries, we cannot look into them without feeling giddy and
appalled, and yet we ought to know of them, and then we can throw
ourselves into the arms of God like children, utterly helpless and
destitute, and yet full of faith in His love and wisdom. “ Dies Leben
ist doch schon, o Konigin.” ‘
‘ Think of us two in old Oxford again, and now it will be our home ;
here we shall live together under God’s blessing for many years, here
we shall grow old together, and from here we shall pass one day into
a new and better life. There will be sorrows too waiting for you when
you come here, sorrows such as no life is free from. And we shall
bear them together, and remember that the same Father who now sends
us so much joy, sends us grief also, and all for our real good, though
we do not always see it, and though we cannot venture to fathom His
Q2

228 Marriage [ch. xi
wisdom in guiding our steps through this life. If we trust in Him, our life will not have been in vain, and in spite of suffering we shall be more happy than many whose outward life seems so easy and bright.’
To HIS Mother.
Translation. All Souls, August 2.

‘ This is the last letter I shall write to-night, and it is for you, to thank you for all your love and goodness, and to say that my love for you cannot be lessened or disturbed by any other love : that you know, and I need not say it. And when you see my wife, you will feel how she has given me a new life, and has only increased and raised my love for you and all who are so good to me. I know how you will love her, and I look forward to our life all together with joyous hope. No discord must disturb our happiness, no littlenesses dim our great joy. I will write again from Heidelberg as soon as I can fix the day we shall meet. To-morrow early I start : our wedding is at 1 1.30. Morier is here ; he came all the way from Naples. I call that friendship.’
On August 3 Max Miiller was married at Bray Church to Georgina, elder daughter of Riversdale Grenfell and Charlotte Elliot, his wife.
A week was spent at Eversley Rectory, lent by the Kingsleys, a spot that was very dear to both of them. On the Sunday Charles Kingsley came over for his services, and administered the Communion to the newly-married pair, being their guest afterwards at luncheon in his own dining-room.
The week was spent in wandering about the lovely moors or
beautiful Bramshill, when they were not occupied with the
papers of the examinations on which Max Miiller had been
busy almost up to his wedding-day. Then two or three days
were given to Heidelberg, to the fatherly friend whose affec-
tion for her husband made a deep impression on the young
wife. From there they went on to Dresden, where the meet-
ing with the mother took place, and the three went together
to Chemnitz to the sister, and then to Dessau. Later on, Max
Miiller and his wife secured a fortnight alone in Prague and
Saxon Switzerland, where they had what was a most dangerous
experience. They had climbed the Papststein, opposite
Schandau, one sultry evening, and whilst at the top, a bare
rock without any shelter, an appalling thunderstorm suddenly

1859] Mother’s Illness 229
burst over and all round them. The play of the lightning was terrific, and the crash of the thunder such that they could not hear each other speak, and they felt that any moment might be their last. They hurried down, but it was some time before they were off the bare rocks, and then only to find themselves in a thick wood, which was no safe refuge, and thankful they were when the torrents of rain showed that the danger was passing away.
On the return journey to England, Leipzig, Halle, Brussels, and Ghent were visited. At Leipzig, Max Miiller and his friend, Victor Carus, met and played together, piano and violin, as in days gone by ; and at Halle he had the interest of a long visit to Professor Pott, the eminent philologist. Oxford was reached on October 24, and Max Miiller and his wife settled themselves in a small furnished house in New College Lane for a few months, till they could find something more suitable.
Pending a better house, Max had to keep his books and do his work at All Souls.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Ghent, October 20.

‘ We both long for a litde quiet, and I for my work. I have had nothing but pleasure and enjoyment these last months, and I am longing for my usual occupations. The time we spent with you was delightful ; how few enjoy such happiness as we had together ! Take care of your health, that you may not make us anxious this winter.’
Early in November Max MUller’s mother was suddenly taken dangerously ill, and his anxiety was very great. It was happily relieved before November 17, on which day his old friend Theodore Walrond was married at Bray Church to his wife’s younger sister. Max Miiller and his wife were present, and stayed on a few days. ‘ They would like to keep us here altogether,’ he writes to his mother, ‘ but that cannot be during the lectures, and I am so happy in my own home.’
The committee of the Athenaeum Club had this year offered
to elect Max Miiller without a ballot, but as he was just going
to be married, he felt he could not afford it at that time. He
never joined any London club, as he was not constantly in

230 Correspondent of Turin Academy
London, and used to say ;iCio a year was too much to pay for a biscuit, or even a glass of wine !
This year being the centenary of Schiller’s birth, Max M tiller gave a public lecture on Schiller, which was very well attended. ‘All Oxford went to hear him,’ wrote a friend. This lecture was published as an article on Schiller in the Times, and afterwards expanded into a longer paper, pub- lished in Chips.
Christmas was spent at Ray Lodge with a large family party — Walronds, Froudes, and others ; and on December 30 Max Muller tells his mother he had that morning received a diploma from Turin, as Corresponding Member of the Royal Sardinian Academy ; and the same day there was a very flattering review in the Times of his Ancient Sanskrit Literat2ire, of which the first edition was already sold out.
It was during this winter that our King was resident in Oxford, as a Gentleman Commoner of Christ Church. Max Muller was often invited to dine at Frewin Hall, the Prince’s residence, and the foundation was then laid of that kindly feeling which the Prince ever after evinced for Max MUller, and to which he alluded in such gracious terms in his speech at the opening of the School of Oriental Studies in 1890, speaking of Max Muller ‘ as one whom ever since my under- graduate days at the University I have had the advantage and privilege of knowing.’

CHAPTER XII
1860-1861
Mother’s illness. Death of Wilson. Move to High Street. Sanskrit election. Birth of first child. Wife’s illness. Spring at Ray Lodge. Lectures on ‘ Science of Language.’ Visit from his mother. Death of Prince Consort.
The early days of this year found Max Miiller again in deep anxiety about his mother, who had gone to her daughter at Chemnitz for Christmas, where she was taken suddenly and alarmingly ill, and for a day or two there seemed but small hope that her life would be spared. Her son’s anxiety was piteous, so far away from her, and unable to do anything for her, or go to her for fear of exciting her. On February i:^ he writes to her : —
Translation.
‘ It was a serious warning, and the years God has added to your life should be all the more valuable and blest. How we suffered with you I need not say. The loss of our parents is the heaviest sorrow we have to bear in life, and nothing can ever blot it out. The separation must come sooner or later, but when it comes something breaks in the heart which can never be the same again.’
To Bryan Hodgson, Esq. (formerly Resident in Nepal).
New College Lane, Oxford, February 6, i860.
‘ My dear Sir, — I have to thank you for your valuable papers on
the Vayu and Kiranti languages. They arrived here during my
absence. I was obliged to stay away from Oxford as my wife
was very unwell, and I am only just beginning to resume my
work. When I shall be able to go through the results of your
immense labours I cannot tell at present. My time is so much
taken up with necessary work that I cannot allow myself much leisure

232 Lectures [ch. xn
for my favourite studies, I have to print text and commentary of the Ri’g-veda, and a second edition of my History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature. Then I have to prepare lectures on the Literature of Modern Europe for my Chair here, not to mention a Sanskrit Grammar, which I promised to finish before the summer. Add to all this the duties of a newly-married man, and you will believe me if I tell you that I have but few moments left for following up my researches into the history of the numberless Turanian languages. I am very glad, however, to know that your important labours, though interrupted, were not left incomplete, and I trust you will find leisure in England for writing a resume’ of all your discoveries in the Himalayan Babel. A linguistic map of that country would be very useful, and no one could do this as well as you. Some day or other I hope to return to those steep regions of philology, and nothing could be a better guide than a physical and ethnological map drawn by you.’
The lectures for this term were called ‘Principles of Etymology,’ but were really on the English language traced back through Anglo-Saxon to Gothic. They were a very popular course, and though attendance at Professors’ lectures was no longer compulsory, Max Miiller had a large audience. He had talked over these lectures with his wife, and explained them to her, as they walked together in the beautiful Taplow Woods in the clear winter weather, and on their return to Oxford he dictated the whole course to her. It was like the unfolding of a new world, ever reaching back and back, till lost in the hoary distance, where the forefathers of the European nations still dwelt together with the forefathers of the Persians and Hindus, before the great dispersion west and south.
To Professor Bernays.
Translation. New College Lane, Felruary 6, i860.
‘ Oh yes, a sign of life is always good, and so I thank you, my best friend, for your Child of Care. But I should like to know still more how you are, body and soul, and I should also like to know what you think of me and of my happiness. Our missing each other at Heidelberg was a fatality, for I so wished to show you my wife. I really am as happy as a “ Child of Care “ can be and may be ;
I often fear the envious Nemesis. What is beautiful is that I have
to labour for my bread again, and that also succeeds fairiy. I am

i86o] Humboldfs Correspondence 233
just printing the second edition of my History of Ancie7it Sanskrit Literature. Have you received it ? I sent two copies to Bunsen, one of them was meant for you. The Veda proceeds slowly, and other things ripen. Tell me what you are doing and planning. I have not heard from Bunsen for a very long time. George is in London, and I hope to meet him there the day after to-morrow. Nothing new happens here. As a married man I can but tell you one thing, stop being a “ single “ and become a “ double “ {^Einsiedlcr and Zweisiedler). You can find in all women what is worthy of love, and the one who finds it in you is sure to be worthy of your love.
‘ I am reading Phaedrus with my wife, and we often think of you in our readings.’
To THE Same.
Translation. New College Lane, March 29.
‘As far as I can see, we have no MS. of the Historia Sacra of Sulpicius Severus ; something by him about Saint Martin, but nothing else. If I knew that you would come over here, if such a MS. existed, I should write to Simonides^ but I am afraid nothing will induce you to come over again. It is tiresome that you have not received my History of Sanskrit Literature, the more so as it is my fault. Now the edition is out of print and I am printing a second one. My enemies praise the book, and go so far as to say that it did not come up to their expectations ; what ideas people must have of me ! Well, something better is sure to come, when I have come out somew^hat from my present bliss. In summer I hope to go to my new house, where I shall arrange my library, and then I look for a calm sea (JMeeresstiUe).
‘ I hope to send you something about Monotheism soon ; I do not think you will like it, and therefore perhaps it will bring me a letter. What about your appointment ? When you have received that, your double state {Zweisiedelung) must certainly assume another shape.
‘And what do you think of Humboldt’s Correspondence ? No poetry, but much truth. The old gentleman has sat for his biography to Varnhagen, and has shown himself as Varnhagen could understand him. Unfortunately Varnhagen dies soon after, and the whole matter comes undigested before the public. I am glad to see that Humboldt on his part has justified Bunsen, though he has not put a stop to Varnhagen’s chattering. But what do the court ladies say ? Will there be more of this sort .? I have no time for writing ; but it will be better when I am in my own house and get all things into order. In faithful friendship, yours, ‘ ]\I.’
^ The famous forger of MSS.

234 Home in High Street [ch. xn
To M. Renan.
New College Lane, March 27.
‘ If you think the chapter on the Introduction of Writing Ukely to interest the larger public, I shall be very happy to see it in the Revue Germaiiique. Boehtlingk has sent me an article of his in answer to my arguments. It does not contain anything to make me change my opinion, or rather to remove the difficulties which I feel myself on the subject. If my article is to be printed in the Revue Germanique, it might be civil to mention B.’s objections. I am printing a second edition of my History of Sanskrit Literature, and find that all my time is taken up, as I have been appointed Examiner in Indian History and Geography and the Sanskrit language for the Civil Service of India. I have, however, made time to review your Histoire des Langues Semitiques, or rather one chapter of it, on Semitic Monotheism. There were two long articles in print which were to appear in the Ti?}ies at Christmas, but political subjects left no space, and so they had to be postponed till Easter \ We both agree and differ, as you will see, and I feel quite relieved after having expressed what I long wished to say on the subject. I am delighted to hear that you are so hard at work, your second volume progressing, and your Etude sur le Cantique des Cantiques finished. I have promised to write a review of Barthelemy-St.-Hilaire’s researches on Buddhism, for the Edifihurgh Review, but it will not be out before the autumn, as all the numbers till then are filled up. With sincere regard.’
Max vi^rites to his mother in April that he has at last found a house in High Street, near Magdalen, and that he will move in in July. In all his letters he exhorts her to lead a quiet, comfortable life, and tells her that he always has enough and to spare for her, and that at her age she ought to give herself more comforts. But it was difficult to induce her to do so, after the long years of frugal living, and to the end she saved more of the money her son sent her than she spent.
Translation.
‘ Do not be always thinking how you can spare a few shillings, but
enjoy the precious years God has added to your life, with constant
gratitude, with quiet and purity of soul, looking more to the heavenly
than to the earthly; that gives true joyfulness of soul, if we every
moment recollect what is eternal, and never quite lose ourselves in the
small or even the large cares of life. My love to Auguste and Krug,
^ Reprinted in Chips, Vol. I, first edition.

i86o] Death of Professor Wilson 235
who nursed you so carefully, whilst I could do nothing to help. May God send His warm sunshine on you, and make your lives as happy as He has made mine, so far beyond all I deserve ! ‘
To M. Renan.
6, New College Lane, May 6.
‘ I have been expecting to hear from you for some time, and I am almost afraid from your silence that you did not quite approve of my review of your work which I sent you at the time of its appearance in the Times. The articles have certainly attained their object in England, as I have heard from many quarters. They have drawn general atten- tion to your work, and they have inspired others with the same feelings of respect and admiration for your labours which I sincerely entertain myself. Your works stand too high to be made the object of a merely laudatory review, and I believe that where I have ventured to express a difference of opinion I have done so, not only Avith that respect which is due to you from everybody, but with the warmest acknowledgement of the value of your researches, even where they did not seem to me completely to confirm the results which you derive from them. I still hope I may be mistaken in my misgivings, but if there should be any expression which could have given you offence, I trust you will tell me openly, and believe beforehand that it was used unintentionally. I am anxious to hear what you think on the main point on which we differ, though in form rather than in substance, and I look forward to your second volume for the full discussion of this question. My hopes of spending part of the summer at Paris have vanished again ; my wife is not well, and we shall have to stay quietly at Oxford. Have you seen a volume called Essays and Reviews ? It would interest you and somewhat surprise you, if you consider that all the writers are clergymen of the Church of England.’
Two days after this letter was written, Professor H. H.
Wilson, Boden Professor of Sanskrit at Oxford, died almost
suddenly after an operation. It has been already mentioned
that his last piece of work was a review of Max Miiller’s
Ancient Sanskrit Literature, which was published in the
October number of the Edinhirgh, and was, as the editor
says in a note, ‘ a posthumous testimonial by the first San-
skrit scholar of the age to the erudition and worth of the
most eminent of his followers.’ When the funeral was over,
Max MUller announced himself as a candidate for the vacant
Chair, and soon issued his testimonials, which included the

236 Letter from Bishop of Calcutta [ch. xn
names of nearly every Oriental scholar of real eminence in the world. Though the election was not to be before December, the canvass, which was begun at once, occupied nearly the whole year. On May 19 Mr. W. S. W. Vaux, of the British Museum, wrote to Max Muller : —
‘ On many occasions, and especially the last time (about two
months since, in the East India House) when I had the pleasure of
seeing him (Professor Wilson), he stated that in his judgement you
were the first Sanskrit scholar in Europe. I remarked that I was
glad to hear him give so decided an opinion, as I and several others
naturally were anxious that his successor at Oxford should be the
fittest man we could procure. To this he said, “ You will be quite
right if your choice should fall on Max Muller.” ‘
The two following letters, from the Bishop of Calcutta and Dr. Pusey, are of interest as showing the good they expected from Max Miiller’s election to the cause of Christian missions, though Mr. Jowett wrote much about the same time that he could not make up his mind whether Max MUller or his opponent would do most for missions : —
Ravenswood, Simla, y?^^ 13, i860.
‘ My dear Sir, — When I heard of the great loss which Sanskrit literature had sustained by the death of Professor Wilson, my thoughts naturally turned to you as his obvious successor, and it will give me great pleasure to hear that the University make an election which is certainly expected and will be approved by every one to whom I have spoken on the subject in this country.
‘ I feel considerable interest in the matter, because I am sure that it is of the greatest importance for our missionaries to understand Sanskrit, to study the philosophy and sacred books of the Hindus, and to be able to meet the Pundits on their own ground.
‘ Among the means to this great end, none can be more important than your edition and Professor Wilson’s translation of the Rig-veda. It would be most fitting in my opinion for a great Christian Univer- sity to place in its Sanskrit Chair the scholar who has made the Sanskrit scriptures accessible to the Christian missionary.
• I am glad to have this opportunity of thanking you for the clear and satisfactory letter which you wrote to me a year ago, w’hen I con- sulted you on a theological difficulty which had arisen between two missionaries, as to the translation of some expressions in our Articles into Bengali. Such questions are likely to multiply, and it will be

i86o] Letter from Dr. Pusey 237
a great point to have the Sanskrit Professorship occupied by one who takes an interest in them, and from thoroughly understanding the Hindu theological terms, is able to give advice on the subject, so that it may express our meaning in a manner which will be at once accurate and will avoid the pantheistic notions which abound in Hindu philosophy, and might by an ignorant translator be transferred to Christian teaching.
‘ You are at liberty to make any use that you please of this letter.
‘ With every wish for your success,
‘ I remain, my dear Sir,

‘ Yours very sincerely,
‘ Professor Max Muller. ‘ G. E. L. Calcutta.’

From Dr. Pusey.
Christ Cylvkcu, Jmie 2, i860.
‘ My dear Professor, — On the first election to the Sanskrit Chair, you will have heard that we were divided before two great names. Professor Wilson, whose first-rate Sanskrit knowledge was in the mouth of every one, and Dr. Mill, who, many of us thought, might fulfil the object of the founder better by giving to the Professorship a direct missionary turn. The same thought would naturally recur to us now, and I have kept myself in suspense since our sudden loss of Professor Wilson. I\Iy first impression, however, is my abiding conviction, that we should be best promoting the intentions of the founder by electing yourself, who have already done so much to make us fully acquainted with the religious systems of those whom we wish to win to the Gospel. It is obvious that without this know- ledge a missionary must be continually at fault, ignorant alike of the points of contact of which, after the manner of St. Paul, he may avail himself, or of those which present the chief obstacles to the reception of the Gospel in the minds of those whom he would win. I cannot but think then that your labours on the Vedas — while they attest your wonderful power in mastering this ancient Sanskrit (and of course of the more modern Sanskrit, through which you had access to the older), and while they evince, as I understand, great philological talent, beyond the knowledge of Sanskrit itself — are the greatest gifts which have been bestowed on those who would win to Chris- tianity the subtle and thoughtful minds of the cultivated Indians.
We owe you very much for the past, and we shall ourselves gain
greatly by placing you in a position in which you can give your
undivided attention to those labours by which we have already so
much profited. You know that I have felt it my duty to confine
myself to a different class of languages, those which bear directly

238 British Association [ch. xn
upon Hebrew. I have written, therefore, on that upon which I am alone competent to write — not your great knowledge of Sanskrit, of which we have such eminent testimony, but of the great value of that special line of study to which you have devoted yourself. Your work will form a new era in the efforts for the conversion of India, and Oxford will have reason to be thankful that, by giving you a home, it will have facilitated a work of such primary and lasting importance for the conversion of India, and which, by enabling us to compare that early false religion with the true, illustrates the more than blessedness of what we enjoy. — Yours very faithfully, E. B. Pusey.’
The middle of June Max writes to his mother : —
‘ My time is quite taken up with the election business, and I some- times wish I had not thought of it. It will absorb my time till December, and if I don’t win I shall be very cross ! Only think of 4,000 electors, scattered all over England, and each must be written to! In a week the British Association meets here, as in 1847, t^^ first time I made an address in English.’
His old friend Carus came over for the meeting, and stayed with Dr. Acland. Max Mliller was far too much occupied to take any part in the discussions, even in opposing the fierce attack of Mr. Crawfurd (the famous Objector-General) on the doctrine of the Aryan race, and the connexion between Hindus and the nations of Europe.
Early in July Max was busy in London examining the candidates for the Indian Civil Service in Sanskrit, Indian History and Geography. On his return to Oxford, the move to the new house, 64, High Street, took place, but his wife was so unwell that he sent her away to her father’s, undertaking all the trouble himself.
To HIS Wife.
July, i860,
‘ Surely everything is ordered, and ordered for our true interests. It would be fearful to think that anything, however small in appear- ance, could happen to us without the will of God. If you admit the idea of chance or unmeaning events anywhere, the whole organization of our life in God is broken to pieces. We are, we don’t know where, unless we rest in God, and give Him praise for all things.
We must trust in Him, whether He sends us joy or sorrow. If He
sends us joy, let us be careful. Happiness is often sent to try us,
and is by no means a proof of our having deserved it. Nor is sorrow
always a sign of God’s displeasure, but frequently, nay always, of His

i86o] Life in High Street 239
love and compassion. We must each interpret our life as best we can, but we must be sure that its deepest purpose is to bring us back to God through Christ. Death is a condition of our life on earth, it brings the creature back to its Creator. The creature groans at the sight of death, but God will not forsake us at the last, He who has never forsaken us from the first breath of our life on earth. If it be His will, we may live to serve Him here on earth for many happy years to come. If He takes either of us away, His name be praised. We live in the shadow of death, but that shadow should not darken the brightness of our life. It is the shadow of the hand of our God and Father, and the earnest of a

அன்பு தளபதி · அன்பு தளபதி Thu Mar 10, 2011 9:59 pm

higher brighter life hereafter. Our Father in heaven loves us more than any husband can love his wife, or any mother her child. His hand can never hurt us, so let us hope and trust always.’
On his wife’s return they settled down to their quiet busy- life, feeling for the first time really at home, in their own house, with his books and all their wedding gifts round them. His joyous, happy temperament, and thankfulness for every trifle, made life very bright, notwithstanding the anxiety and hard work connected with the coming election. His little garden was a constant pleasure to Max Miiller, and he often worked in it. A flight of steps led to it from his study window, so that he could step out at any moment when tired with work, and enjoy his roses, of which, next to violets and lilies of the valley, he was passionately fond.
It was about this time that Max Muller received an invita- tion to deliver a course of lectures the following spring at the Royal Institution on Comparative Philology. He at once accepted the invitation, and continued to lecture at the Institution from time to time for above thirty years, his last course there being delivered in March, 1894, on the Vedanta Philosophy. Beyond bringing out the second edition of Ancteni Sanskrit Literature, writing a very few articles for the Sattirday Review, and preparing his lectures, Max Miiller got through but little literary work this year. The sunshine within the house was a delightful contrast to the weather without, for it had been a summer of almost ceaseless rain, and at the usual time of hay-harvest the hay-fields round Oxford were all flooded.
Max Miiller had been kept in constant anxiety about his

240 Love of Swimming [ch. xh
mother’s health all through the spring and early summer, and at the end of August wrote and offered to pay her a short visit, but she felt hardly well enough for the excitement.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Septernber 7.
‘ I think you are right in being quiet and alone. To see you again, and then to have to leave after a week, would be almost too much for me, how much more for you ? Our lives are in the hands of a Father who knows what is best for all of us. Death is painful to the creature, but in God there is no death, no dying ; dying belongs to life, and is only a passage to a more perfect world, into which we all go when God calls us. When one’s happiness is as perfect as mine is, then the thought of death often frightens one, but even then that is conquered by the feeling and the faith that all is best as it is, and that God loves us more than even a father and mother can love us. It is a beautiful world in which we live, but it is only beautiful, and only really our home, when we feel the nearness of God at each moment, and lean on Him and trust in His love. And so I trust God will spare you to us, as long as it is good for us ; and when the hour of parting comes, we know that love never dies, and that God, who bound us so closely together in this life, will bring us together where there is no more parting. ... I wish you could see us here : our home is charming, and when I remember how I arrived here with one “ box,” my heart runs over when I see hovi^ God has blessed me.’
In September Max Midler and his wife went to Brighton, where he enjoyed the sea-bathing, and renewed his old love of swimming. There were several swimming competitions during their stay, and he always joined the competitors, and was glad to find that he kept up his former power of rapid and strong swimming.
To Professor Bernays.
Translation. 64, High Street, October 21.
‘ I found your letter on my return, and I write at once to thank you for the beautiful and flattering proof of your friendship. All that comes from you I read with true joy, as far as I can understand it, and I look forward heartily to the fresh feast. Till the middle of December I shall have no leisure. December 7 is the election :
whether I am to succeed is doubtful, but I hope I shall, especially as
I have lost six months with canvassing. We are all well here ; my
wife is in good health, our house is all in order, nothing is wanting

i86o] Death of Biinsen — Sanskrit Election 241
any more, and I thank God if all remains as it is now. It is true, happiness drives nails into our soul, but all is for the best.
‘ I hear nothing but sad things about Bunsen. I should grieve to lose that man.
‘ When will you come to England again ? In faithful friendship.’
In the last days of November he heard of the death of his friend and benefactor, Baron Bunsen, who passed away at Bonn, after many months of suffering, so that at first the thought that he was at rest overpowered the sense of loss. But the feeling of loss grew ever stronger as time went on, and a year later Max MuUer wrote to M. Renan : ‘ I miss Bunsen more every day. I feel as if I had lost a limb, and I can hardly believe sometimes that one is never to see him again here below.’
On December 7 the election to the Sanskrit Professorship took place, and Max Miiller was rejected. A few days before the election an unknown friend wrote to one of the papers summing up the difference between the candidates, as ‘ the difference between respectable and honourable proficiency, and the complete and masterful knowledge of the subject possessed by a rare genius and profound scholar, from whose authority on the subjects of Indian philology and philosophy there is no appeal in Europe/ and then, adverting to the objection to Max Miiller as not being an Englishman, the same supporter adds : —
‘ Mr. Max Miiller’s English is perfect. Many who have not heard the wonderful force and clearness of his public lectures must have read, without knowing it, some of his many contributions to periodical literature. Nothing that I know of — of thought or expression — exists to differentiate Max Miiller from the highest type of refined and edu- cated Englishman.
• But the implied charge of un-English religion, and even of irre- ligion, is at once the most serious, the most gratuitous, and the most cruel. If the country clergy have been persuaded, as has been wittily said, to smell rationalism in the dots over the ii in Mr. Miiller’s name, I cannot hope to dissipate the detested odour.
I can only submit that there is not the slightest particle of ground for
the suspicion, not the faintest show for the pretext that Mother Church
is in danger. Surely the support and deferential testimonials of the
men of highest character and well-known religious opinions in the
I R

242 Dr. Pusey [ch. xii
University should suffice to dispose of such a vague and ungenerous insinuation. A man’s personal character must stand very high, and his theological opinions can afford but little ground for animadver- sion on either hand, when he unites as his unhesitating supporters Dr. Pusey and Dr. Macbride.’
Dr. Pusey had worked day and night for Max Miiller, and when helping to send out the final notices of the election, wrote in his own hand above those he sent : ‘ Max Miiller has already done more for the Gospel in India than any other Sanskrit scholar, by opening to our missionaries their sacred books. His election would enable him to devote himself to that work. He is the first Sanskrit scholar living.’
It was observed by an elector that could the votes
have been taken by weight, there was no doubt how the
matter would have ended. There can be no doubt that it
was a keen disappointment to Max Miiller, but he lived long
enough to trace his almost unique position later in the world
of letters, and the influence he was able to exert on religious
thought in England, to this very disappointment. Had he
been successful, he must have devoted his great powers almost
exclusively to Sanskrit, and by doing so would no doubt have
remained to the last what Wilson pronounced him to be at
the time of his (Wilson’s) death, ‘The first Sanskrit scholar in
Europe.’ It was the Chair of Philology, founded some six
years later specially for him, his name being mentioned in the
statute of foundation, that led him on from the Science of
Language to the Sciences of Thought and Religion. As
Professor Macdonell says, in his admirable obituary notice in
the Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society — \
‘Nothing was known about Comparative Philology when Max
Miiller came to this country. He introduced and popularized the new
science, and soon came to be regarded as its chief exponent. He
was, moreover, the first to inaugurate the study of Comparative
Mythology in this country. ... It was not till the latter half of the
century that the necessary conditions were at hand for founding a
science of religion. Max Miiller was there to apply the needful
stimulus . . . and to collect the requisite materials in his Sacred Books
of the East. Thus there was a great opening in these highly im-
portant branches of learning, but no one man could have taken

i86o] Letters on Sanskrit Election 243
advantage of them . . . , had he not been one of the most talented and versatile scholars of the nineteenth century.’
The following letters vi^ere received soon after the election,
and were kept together and always treasured by Max
Muller :—
From his Father-in-law.
‘ I know not when I have felt more deeply for the trials of others or
had more reason to admire patience and resignation to God’s will
than in the spirit you have shown, in what I know to be a most severe
trial and bitter disappointment. But now that all is over, and I have
time to think, I am inclined to believe that with such unscrupulous
opponents we could not have won. They had every element of
success on their side, but one, and that they disavowed as affecting
the claims of the candidates, namely the vast inferiority of one to the
other. It must be a bitter disappointment to feel that the path of
usefulness you had proposed to follow has been cut from under your
feet, . . . but it is God’s will, and the time may come when you will
see His wisdom in disappointing your hopes and wishes,’
From Dean (then Canon) Stanley.
Christ Church, December 8.
‘ You must allow me to write a few words to express what I cannot say. I have never experienced the peculiar trial under which you are suffering, but I believe, from my own bitter disappointment on your behalf, I can feel what it is for you. You will have many consolations. I need not dwell upon them. But you must also give us the best consolation that we can have, and that is the assurance that we have not been mistaken in the high expectations we had formed of you.
You have it still in your power, thank God, to turn your energies from
this wretched turmoil to the pursuits which have made your name
what it is. You can still show that, although not Boden Professor,
you are and will remain the oracle of all who wish to know the
secrets of Indian literature and religion. You can still by your
writings show what the Christian religion may be to India and the
world, as you could not do before, lest you should be suspected of
unworthy motives. You can still show us how the Christian scholar
and philosopher can put to silence by Christian magnanimity “the
ignorance of foolish men.” [Can one not hear the beloved little Dean’s
inimitable chuckle as he penned these words?] You can in this
crisis of your life rise to the greatness of the occasion, and make your
friends more proud of you, than if they had brought you into the
Professorship by a majority of hundreds. “ Leave off wrath and let
R a

244 Attacks on Max Muller [ch. xn
go displeasure ; fret not thyself, else shalt thou be moved to do evil.”
With bitter regrets at not having exerted myself more, with the truest
sympathy for you and yours. Ever your sincere friend,
‘A. P. Stanley.’
It was not easy to carry out his friend’s advice, for not content with the signal victory they had gained, his opponents brought various utterly unfounded accusations against Max Muller, as that he had inspired an article in his favour which had appeared in the Times, and other equally vexing and untrue allegations, which, though triumphantly disproved by men like Dr. Pusey, the Provost of Queen’s, Dr. Jacobson, Professor Mountague Bernard, and Mr. Dasent, the editor of the Times, were at the time distressing as tokens of personal animosity and malice. To a man of so loving and truthful a character, these attacks were peculiarly painful. His friend Regnier expressed the unanimous feeling of continental scholars in a letter in which he says, ‘ I kept on declaring, in spite of what any one could say, that your defeat was impossible.’
To his mother he wrote, December i6 : —
‘ The last days have been full of disturbance. You will have seen by the papers that I did not get the Sanskrit Professorship. The opposite party made it a political and religious question, and nothing could be done against them. All the best people voted for me, the Professors almost unanimously, but the vulgus pro/antim made the majority. I was sorry, for I would gladly have devoted all my time to Sanskrit, and the income was higher ; but we shall manage.’
Of this election Mr. Tuckwell writes : —
‘ I remember the contest for the Sanskrit Professorship, wherein I voted and, as far as I could, worked for him (Max Muller) : an inferior candidate being preferred before him, first because Max was a German and therefore a “ Germaniser “ ; secondly, because a friend of Bunsen must of necessity be heretical ; thirdly, because it was unpatriotic to confer an English Chair on any but an Englishman.’
Canon Farrar thus describes this event : —
‘ Muller himself was made to feel the prejudice in Oxford against
any novelty in i860, when he was passed over for election to the
Sanskrit Professorship. It is fair indeed to allow that it was not

i86o] Birth of First Child — Wife^s Illness 245
strictly political or religious opposition that was made to him; but the Englishman’s dislike to an adopted son, and the feeling that it was not necessary to go afield to choose the absolutely best man, provided the candidate was respectable. I was of course on Mtiller’s committee ; but I soon found that there was no solid ground for hoping for his success ; and hardly expected that he would poll so many votes as he did. But in truth Miiller’s claims were incomparable, as having really performed for early Sanskrit literature that which the Alexandrian scholars of the second century b. c. had performed for Homer, editing the text and reconstructing the antique grammar. Miiller himself (this shows his goodness of heart) could not imagine why any other motive could outbalance the sole question as to who was the best candidate. He did not realize the stubborn fixedness of English and Oxford preference for an old Oxford man. Miiller felt his disappointment. He was especially grieved with some of his opponent’s committee; for he was a man of spirit and sensibility. He could feel the virtue of resentment, but was too noble to display the vice of revenge.’
But all other feelings were swallowed up by the terrible
anxiety that fell upon Max Miiller very soon after the
election. On December 30 his first child, a girl, was born,
and for two days his wife lay between life and death, and the
doctors gave up all hope of saving her. The horror of that
time he never forgot, and six months afterwards, writing to
his friend Palgrave, who had lost his father, speaks thus of his
experience : —
Oxford, July 8, 1861.
‘ My dear old Palgrave, — I should have tried to see you again
to-day, but I know from experience that in the presence of great
grief I have nothing to say, and for a loss like yours there is no
comfort till we can say by ourselves, “ Thy will be done.” I remember
but one time in my whole life when 1 could not say that, and my
trials have been hard at times, harder than I thought I could have
borne. But when my wife, whom I had loved for six years without
the faintest hope of ever calling her my wife, when she, after one year
of a blessed life, was for two days given up as hopeless by the doctors,
then I broke down, and I could not say, “ Thy will be done.” And
yet what is the tenure of all our happiness ? Are we not altogether
at the mercy of God ? Would it not be fearful to live for one day
unless we knew, and saw, and felt His presence and wisdom and love
encompassing us on all sides ? If we once feel that, then even
death, even the death of those we love best and who love us best,

246 Essays and Reviews [ch. xn
loses much of its terror : it is part and parcel of one great system of which we see but a small portion here, and which without death, without that bridge of which we see here but the first arch, would seem to me a mere mockery. That is why I said to you it is well that human art cannot prolong our life for ever, and in that senti- ment I should think we both agree. I have felt much for you, more than I cared to say. We are trained differently, but we are all trained for some good purpose, . . . and the suffering which you have under- gone is to me, like deep ploughing, the promise of a rich harvest.’
As soon as his wife was sufficiently recovered, Max Muller
took her and his child to Ray Lodge, where they remained
until June, he going once a week to Oxford for his lectures
there. He joined the Maidenhead Company of the Berkshire
Volunteers, to which his father and brothers-in-law already
belonged, drilled and marched out regularly, and was soon
an excellent marksman ; though his drill-sergeant used to
complain of his drill, and declare over and over again that
• those gentlemen who think were a difficulty,’ as they did not readily become the mere machines which even now is still considered the perfection of a private soldier. Later in the summer, and in subsequent years, he camped out with his company. This he particularly enjoyed, and often in after years laughed over their experiences on the Downs and else- where with his kind friend Lord Wantage, who was Colonel of the Berkshire Volunteers.

The agitation about Essays a7td Reviews^ which had been going on ever since the publication of the book, reached its high-water mark in this spring, when Canon (afterwards Dean) Stanley’s famous article on that work appeared in the April number of The Edmburgh Review. Max M tiller, knowing many of the contributors to Essays and Reviews^ had taken a keen interest in the whole affair, and discussed it in many a walk with Canon Stanley ; but the following is the only letter found on the subject : —
To Canon Stanley.
Ray Lodge, April 17,
‘ I have not divulged the authorship, but I have just finished the
article, and there is but 07ie man in England that would have written
it. I think that, next to Garibaldi, you are the bravest man in Europe,

i86i] Lectures on Language 247
and the liberty you are fighting for is worth more than the freedom of Italy. I am proud to be mentioned by you in your article and in your preface. As to myself, I try all I can to forget December 7, and I begin to feel that I shall do more, as I am now, than if I were in the easy-chair of Sanskrit. But I am afraid I shall never feel at home in Oxford again, though it was the place I loved most in all the world. I feel very nervous about my lectures in London ;
I am afraid they won’t be interesting to many people. I shall publish them as soon as they are delivered.’
In April began the lectures at the Royal Institution. There are doubtless some still who remember the enthusiastic interest they excited, the lecture-room being more and more crowded as the course went on, whilst Albemarle Street was filled with the carriages of those who attended them. Max Miiller was very nervous beforehand, but by the end of his first lecture he felt that he carried his audience with him, and the interested faces of Bishop Thirlwall, the late Duke of Argyll, Dean (then Canon) Stanley, F. D. Maurice, Dean Milman, Faraday, and John Stuart Mill, not to mention many others, were an incentive to him to give of his very best.
An intimate friend who was present at the lectures reported :
‘Max Miiller was quite self-possessed, his wife proudly humble.’ A lady who attended these lectures thus recorded her recollections years afterwards : ‘ I remember him then as a slight, intellectual, and interesting-looking young man, with a very clear enunciation, and a perfect command of language, and it was amusing to meet him again a few years ago as a square-shouldered, elderly grandfather.’
‘These lectures,’ says Professor Macdonell in J/aw, February, 1901, ‘afterwards published in an extended form, passed through a large number of editions, and soon raised their author to the rank of the standard authority on philology in the estimation of the English public. Though much of what is contained in these lectures is now out of date, there can be no doubt that they not only for the first time aroused general interest in the subject of comparative philology in England, but in their day also exercised a valuable stimulating influence on the work of scholars in the sixties and seventies. Here Max Miiller first displayed that power of lucid popular exposition, and of investing a dry subject with abundant interest, which has more than anything else contributed to make his name at least as famous as that of any other scholar of the past century.’

248 Success of Lectures [ch. xn
In a most interesting lecture given on December 2, 1900, before the University of Allahabad, by Pundit Satish Chandra Banerjee, these lectures are thus described : —
‘Nearly four decades have now rolled away since Max Miiller delivered at the Royal Institution in London his “ Lectures on the Science of Language,” and so much has been done since, and mainly by the learned lecturer himself, to educate the popular consciousness, that it is difficult for us to realize to-day the value and importance of these lectures. As I turn over the pages of these volumes, I come across much that I feel disposed to characterize as the A B C of the science, much that seems scarcely to require the abundance of explanation and illustration with which Max IMiiller has thought fit to enforce and support it. But we have to remember that when these lectures were first delivered, much of this was new, novel, and startling ; it was in fact a new light which was breaking forth upon the dark and then uninviting fields of Comparative Grammar and Philology.’
• It is,’ said a contemporary review, ‘ a fact of no ordinary significance that, in the height of the London season, an enthusiastic audience of both sexes crowded the benches and endured the heat of a popular lecture-room, not to witness the brilliant experiments, or be fascinated by the revelations of a Faraday or an Owen, but to listen to a philosophical exposition of the inner mysteries of language.’

Max Miiller has told in Atild Lang Syne of several amusing incidents connected with the delivery of his lectures, particularly of the slight estimation in which he was held by Anderson, Faraday’s demonstrator, who was so well known to frequenters of the Royal Institution forty years ago, who could not understand a man wanting no gas or experiments, not even a blackboard at first. As soon as the lectures were over, the Max Mullers returned to Oxford. The printing of the lectures began at once, and the book was out by July 9. It passed through fourteen editions, and was rapidly trans- lated into French, German, Italian, Russian, Swedish, and Dutch, and became a most popular book in America. It was chosen by Cardinal Newman as a favourite prize-book for boys.
On July I Max Miiller had the delight of welcoming his
mother to his home, and showing her his child. She remained

i86i] Visit of Mother 249
until the middle of October, thoroughly enjoying her son’s pretty house, and going with her children to stay at Ray Lodge, and Rugby, where one of the masters, Mr. Charles Arnold, with his German wife, were old friends of hers from 1856.
The summer passed quietly and happily away. Max Miiller preparing the second edition of his Lectures on Language^ and working at the fourth volume of the Rig-veda, which had been delayed for a time — first, by the change of power from the East India Company to the Crown, and the doubt whether Her Majesty’s Government would continue the publication of the work, and secondly, by the loss of so many months in i860 through the Sanskrit election.
The following letter is given as among the first of the long correspondence with Messrs. Longmans, Max Miiller’s valued publishers, the last letter of which, in his own handwriting, is dated August 25, 1901 : —
To William Longman, Esq.
Oxford, October 21, 1861.
‘ I am much pleased to hear of the very rapid sale of my Lectures. I hardly expected a second edition, certainly not so soon. Some of the best reviews I believe are still to come, in the Times, Eraser, Edinburgh Review, Journal des Savants, &c. You must know best whether it is prudent to make as large an edition as the first. ... I fully appreciate the advantage of publishing my books with a firm such as yours, and I ascribe not a little of the success of my Lectures, as compared with the success of my earlier publications, to the popularity of your house, and your experience and judicious arrange- ment. So I hope we shall have no difficulty in coming to an equitable arrangement with regard to this, or any other books which I still have in petto, and hope to finish if all goes well.’
To Professor Bernays.
Translation. 64, High Street, November 1.
‘ Some time ago I sent you a sign of life, i. e. my Lectures, and I should much like to hear by letter how you are and what are your plans for your life. I am well, and I should much wish for you the same sunshine which Heaven has bestowed upon me, though a few dark clouds and storms belong to it also.
‘ How delightful if we could have you here ! Germany is beautiful,
but England is free, and I know how peculiarly such an atmosphere

250 Trials and Successes [ch. xn
would agree with you. I have had lately a visit from George Bunsen — a brave fellow — but his father I miss more and more, and I am sure you do too. I have only just read the essay on Bunsen by Abeken, but something much more complete is to be desired. I have just begun to print a second edition of my Lectures on the Science of Language, and a very large one indeed. Can you send me, when you have read it, some corrections and additions ? But it would have to be by return of post, as I have begun the printing already. I should like to talk to you about some points in it, but letter-paper is not sufficient for spiritual intercourse.
‘ Nothing new from here. Jowett has not been burnt, and the spark has not caught fire yet. But when it begins to burn, it will burn thoroughly. Pattison has married a young wife, and is now Rector of Lincoln College. Is there anything new to read in Germany ? I have only just read Strauss’s Ulrich von Hutten with great interest.’
To M. Renan.
Oxford, November 17.
‘ I heard the other day of your return from the East, and should have written to you at once to congratulate you and your friends on your safe arrival, if M. Durand, who mentioned your being at Paris, had not told me at the same time that you were in deep affliction \ and, as far as I could understand him, suffering also yourself from illness. Those afflictions aje too sacred to allow any one to intrude on the sufferer, with the expression of even the most sincere sympathy.
They bring us face to face with our Father in Heaven, and when we
speak and struggle with Him we want to be alone, quite alone. I
speak from what I felt myself about a year ago, when my wife was
given up by all physicians, and at last restored to me miraculously,
I mean through the mercy of God. I have gone through much
trouble since I last wrote to you, but yet I feel more like myself again,
and begin to see that all was as it ought to be. We both lost a true
friend in Bunsen. ... I had another severe trial in failing to obtain
the Chair of Sanskrit at Oxford : calumnious falsehood and vulgar
electioneering tactics caused the result, and deprived me of the one
sphere where I might have worked with all my heart and souL How-
ever, I have got over that ; I dare say it would have made my life too
perfect, and disappointments are good discipline. Lastly, I want to
send you a book, my Lectures on the Science of Language : I gave
them in London, and they were well attended. I have now printed
them, and am preparing a second and very large edition. I need not
‘ The sister who had educated Renan died at Beyrout of fever.

i86i] Letter from Dean Liddell 251
say I am anxious to have your opinion more than that of any one else. Whether for good or evil, the book has struck root in England, and there is to be a German translation in a very short time. I believe it contains some things that are new, some that are true, and some that will have to be given up as we advance towards the truer knowledge of the mysteries of human speech.’
Kind permission has been given to insert this letter : —
From Dean Liddell.
Christ Church, Oxford,
November i6, 1861.
‘ My dear Muller, — Few things, of late, have given me so much satisfaction as reading your Lectures, though perhaps I should have had yet more satisfaction if the book had been addressed to readers and not hearers. Will you bear with me if I jot down one or two points which I think require more precision or fullness of statement, in a new edition, which I hope will be (as I am sure it ought to be) wanted soon. It is humiliating to hear that these lectures have been delivered to the heedless ears of Oxford hearers.
* (i) In the last chapter, you use “ as an illustration only, not as an explanation,” the fact that metals, &c., ring a sound, each with its proper sound.
‘ How far do you mean the analogy with human speech to go .? Do you mean that each attribute denoted by a Root — as ma, ku, &c. — is expressed by that Root as peculiarly and properly as gold or silver by their respective ring? or do you mean, generally, that man as naturally expresses each general idea by some sound, as gold is betrayed by its peculiar ring, &c. ? Has each general idea its own sound, or only a sound ? I am unable to collect from your statements which you intend. For, while your argument seems to imply that each idea has its own proper sound, I cannot but doubt that you really mean to carry the analogy so far. If you do, I think a good deal more is required to prove the statement. If you do not, a few words are needed to guard against such a conclusion.
‘ (2) Is not the term “ Theoretical Stage” of science somewhat in-
accurate ? Theoretical questions arise in the infancy of all sciences,
and doubtless they cannot be answered till the process of classification
is far advanced or even completed. If this is what you mean, I think
your general and absolute statements respecting the three stages
require modification. I am aware that (p. 20) you admit that “ there
have been instances “ in which theoretical questions have arisen even
in the first stage. I have my doubts whether this is not the rule,

252 American Languages [ch. xn
rather than the exception. Look for instance at the ancient Physics.
Look at Smith’s and Stewart’s Theories of Language, &c.
‘(3) I note a few special points that have caught my eye — (p. 21):
“I expect we shall have to do something else.” This, I think, is hardly a classical use of the term “ expect!’ It would be impertinent in me to express admiration of the almost uniform precision of your English. . . . [Various other small corrections follow.]
‘ Yours very truly, ‘ Henry G. Liddell.’
Max MUller’s mother left him when the autumn weather set in, and he writes to her : —
Translation. 64, High Street, Novemler 20.
• I have not been well enough to write much lately, but have read a good deal, among other books Varnhagen’s new work. It is wonderfully interesting, and shows signs of a ver}’ noble nature, though weak and cross-grained. He misunderstands many people, and therefore dislikes them — as specially Bunsen. His expressions with regard to him are really infamous, but I don’t care for that: words do not make truth, and what he says is not true. One must not mind such false judgement of really noble impulses. As a picture of political and mental efforts, of the stupidity, even madness, of the Government, the book is invaluable. How furious the people in Berlin will be ! That the publication has been allowed at all shows the advance made since 1848.’

Early in December, Max Miiller received a letter from a gentleman in California, who had read his Lectures, urging him to study ‘ the philological connexion of the Indian languages of Mexico and the Alta California, and thus possibly find a key to trace its ante-Columbian history.’ Though Max always felt a keen interest in the North American Indian languages, and when the Mohawk under- graduate Oronhyatakha was in Oxford, prepared a skeleton Mohawk grammar from what he learnt from him, the subject was too remote from his own special line of study, and required far too much time for him to take it up, though he was constantly urging the duty of doing so on American students, and was always very much interested in the publica- tions of the Smithsonian Institute of Washington.
To HIS Wife.
Oxford, November, 1861.
‘ It is so difficult not to grow very fond of this life and all its
happiness, but the more we love it the more we suffer, for we

i86i] Death of Baron <£ Eckstein 253
know we must lose it, and it must all pass away. Does love pass away too? I cannot believe it. God made us as we are, many, instead of one ; Christ died for all of us individually, and such as we are — beings incomplete in themselves, and perfect only through love to God on one side, and through love to man on the other. We want both kinds of love for our very existence, and therefore in a higher and better existence too the love of kindred souls may well exist together with our love of God. We need not love those we love most on earth less in heaven, though we may love all better than we do on earth. After all, love seems only the taking away those unnatural barriers which divide us from our fellow creatures — it is only the restoration of that union which binds us altogether in God, and which has been broken on earth we know not how. In Christ alone that imion was preserved, for He loved us all with a love warmer than the love of a husband for his wife, or a mother for her child. He gave His life for us, and if we ask ourselves there is hardly a husband or a mother who would really suffer death for his wife or her child. Thus we see that even what seems to us the most perfect love is very far as yet from the perfection of love which drives out the whole self and all that is selfish, and we must try to love more, not to love less, and trust that what is imperfect here is not meant to be destroyed, but to be made perfect hereafter. With God nothing is imperfect ; without Him everything is imperfect. We must live and love in God, and then we need not fear : though our life seem chequered and fleeting, we know that there is a home for us in God, and rest for all our troubles in Christ.’
To M. Renan.
Oxford, November 30, 1861.
‘ I was touched when I saw to-day in the Journal des Debats your thoughtful and sorrowful lines on the death of our old friend d’Eckstein. I had long been without news from him, and now that he is gone I regret and I reproach myself for not having written to him more frequently. His death reminds me of the happy time in 1846 when I was at Paris attending Burnoufs lectures, and when d’Eckstein helped me and encouraged me, and when I was fighting my way through difficulties which now would seem to me almost insurmountable.
And yet I was never so happy as in those days, when sometimes
I had to go without a dinner because I could not pay for it, and
when I used to copy for d’Eckstein, who paid me for my work in his
own generous way. Yes, we have lost many men whom we can
hardly afford to spare ; we still suffer from Burnoufs death, we shall
long miss the presence of our friend Bunsen, but when I think of

254 Death of Prince Consort [ch. xn
what we have lost I feel it all the more a duty to live, to work in
their spirit, and thus to keep alive, as it were, some small portion of
their spirit. I am sure you will feel the same, for you have a great
work before you ; you are wanted and you will not fail. I should like
to hear from you that you are well, in body and mind, and that
you do not lose your faith in the work which you have begun, and in
the work which is still before you. The revival of learning in the
fifteenth century was the dawn of Reformation, and I believe a similar
era is approaching to fulfil what the Reformers intended, but which
was frustrated by political events. You have an element in France
which, if properly advised and directed, might become a most powerful
engine for good, as it may be, if left in bad hands, for evil. Germany
must follow the example of Italy, and must look not only for political
union, but for religious union on high and neutral ground. In
England too there is a yearning after real Christianity, though the
struggle will be a hard one. It is a time worth living for, and I feel
convinced that you will be wanted even for a greater work than that
of finishing your Histoire des Langues Semitiques^
Max Mliller and his wife were at Brighton at the time of
the Prince Consort’s death. Though he had seen but little
of the Prince, Max had the truest admiration for his character,
and seems to have felt strongly how much the country which
misunderstood and misrepresented the noble Prince to the
last, really owed him. He had sent his Lectures to the Prince
as soon as published, and they had been most kindly acknow-
ledged. They were by the bedside of the Prince at the
beginning of his illness, as if lately read. Gracious permission
has been given to insert the following letter, written nearly
twenty years later, when the Queen sent Max Miiller the last
volume of the Prince Consort’s Life. The five volumes, each
with Max Miiller ‘s name written and signed inside by the
gracious Sovereign whose subject he was proud to be, will
remain a precious heirloom to his children and children’s
children.
‘Oxford, den 13*^° Mai 1880.
‘EuRER Majestat lege ich meinen tiefgefiihlten Dank unter- thanigst zu Fiissen fiir den letzten Band des Life of the Prince Consort von Sir Th. Martin.
‘ Der Verfasser hat von neuem seine sichere Kunst, seinen richtigen
Takt, sein tiefes Verstandniss und seine ehrfurchtsvolle Auffassung
der ihm gewordenen Aufgabe herrlich bewahrt, und das Geschick,

மஞ்சுபாஷிணி · மஞ்சுபாஷிணி Thu Mar 10, 2011 10:31 pm

பகிர்வுக்கு அன்பு நன்றிகள் மணி....

அன்பு தளபதி · அன்பு தளபதி Fri Mar 11, 2011 1:43 pm

i86i] Letter to the Queen 255

mit dem er die ihm anvertrauten
“ goldenen Faden “ in sein eigenes Gewebe hineingewebt, so dass Jeder, der
Augen hat, sie sieht und fiihlt, und sie doch nle die Harmonic des Ganzen
storen, beweist die geiibte Hand des wahren Meisters.

‘ Mit ernsten Gefiihlen
schliesst man das Buch und trennt sich von ihm wie man sich schweren Herzens
von einem lieben Grabe trennt, Wie anders hatte die Welt sein konnen, wie viel
Gutes ware moglich, wie manches Unrecht unmoglich, wenn zwei Augen sich nicht
so friih geschlossen ! Auf das Warum, das immer und immer wiederkehrt, kann die
menschliche Vernunft keine Antwort geben. Nur ein fester Glaube an eine
Weisheit und eine Liebe, die Alles ubersteigt, was wir Weisheit und Liebe
nennen, bringt, wenn auch nicht Trost, doch Ruhe und Frieden auf den einsamen
Lebensweg. Was wirklich unser war, das kann keine Macht uns rauben, und nichts
auf Erden bleibt uns so sicher als der Besitz vergangenen Gliicks.

‘ Mit wahrer Verehrung habe ich
die Ehre zu verbleiben

‘ Eurer Majestat dankbarer und
unterthanigster Diener,

‘ F. Max Muller.’

Translation. ‘OXFORD, May 13,
1880. YoUR MAJESTY,— I beg most humbly to offer the expression of my
deeply-felt gratitude for the last volume of the Life of the Prince Consort, by
Sir Theodore Martin. The editor has again
nobly proved his sure skill, his true tact, his deep sagacity, and his
respectful comprehension of the task committed to him. The dexterity with which, without disturbing
the harmony of the whole, he has spun the “golden thread” entrusted to him into
his own material, so that every one who has eyes sees and feels it, shows the
practised hand of the true master. One closes the book with solemn feelings,
and leaves it with a heavy heart as one leaves a loved grave. How different the
world might have been, how much good had been possible, if two eyes had not
been closed too soon ! Human reason can give no answer to the wherefore that
returns over and over again. Only firm faith in a wisdom and a love that is far
above all we call wisdom and love, brings — if not comfort— yet rest and peace
on the lonely path of life. What was really ours, no power can take from us,
and nothing on earth remains so surely ours as the possession of bygone
happiness. — With deep respect, I have the honour to be your Majesty’s grateful
and most obedient servant, F. Max Muller.’

To HIS Mother.

Translation. December 15.

‘ What will you say to the
death of Prince Albert ? He died last night at eleven of gastric fever. This
will involve great changes.

The Queen can hardly bear the
whole burden alone, so there may be

a Regency, probably with the
Prince of Wales, at first for three

months only. It is a fearful loss
for the Queen, who has no one who

can so help her : and the whole
country will long feel his loss. So

256 Religious and Philosophic
Struggles [ch.xh

everything teaches us that our
home is not here, but beyond, and that here there is no lasting happiness. How
many have gone before us these last years ! Would that we were convinced that
we must soon follow, and that everything here is but a preparation for what is
better ! ‘

To M. Renan.

Brighton, December 16.

·
My dear Friend, — I have read your letter with
deep interest and sympathy. Such trials as you have had to pass through are not
sent without a purpose, and if you say that they have changed your views of
life, such a change in a character like yours can only be a change in advance,
a firmer faith in those truths which have been revealed to the dim sight of
human nature, a stronger will to resist all falsehood and tampering with the
truth, and a deeper conviction that we owe our life to Him who has given it,
and that we must fight His battle when He calls us to do it. I am not afraid
that you could ever desert the post which you have so nobly occupied, and
though I am rejoiced to hear that a sphere of honourable activity will be open
to you as a successor of Quatrembre, I cannot believe that Science alone will
ever fill the whole of your heart. I cannot help believing that we are on the
eve of great religious and philosophic struggles. There is a longing after true and primitive
Christianity in the best spirits of England, France, and Germany, and there is
a general desire after an outward union and communion, which is possible only
on the basis of that faith which was in Christ as the Son of God, and which is
the lifespring of all religion, however diff”erent the wordings of formulas and
sects. With the restitution of the Papacy to its true function, a great step
will have been made. Germany at the time of the Reformation objected to an
Italian Pope much more than to the head of a Church. So did England, so to a
great extent did France.

As soon as the Pope has ceased to
be Prince of Rome, a movement

will begin in which the true
purposes of the Reformers will be realized

and through which negative
Catholicism, as you call it, will become

positive Catholicity. In that
movement much will turn on France,

and on your Emperor, and that is
why I wish to see at his side

honest, wise, and learned men. I
am staying at Brighton with my wife,

who has been very ill, but is now
much better. I have just finished my

second edition o^ my Lectures on
the Science of Language. I should

like to know what you think of
them. I know we differ, and in my

second volume I shall have to
fight with you, but I hope and trust that

our literary differences will
only draw us more closely together. There

is that charm about your views
and opinions, that they are carved out

of marble and not out of plaster.
They stand out clearly and firmly

i86i] Lectures on Language,
Second Edition 257

and one may grapple with them,
but when I read a work of Stein- thal’s, and even many parts of Humboldt, I
feel as if walking through shifting clouds. It may be my fault, there may be
much depth of wisdom in all that darkness and vagueness, but I cannot help
thinking that there is nothing that cannot be made clear, and bright, and
simple, and that obscurity arises in all cases from slovenly thinking and lazy
writing. Adieu. Yours with sincere regard.’

To Professor Benfey.

Translation. Oxford, December 17.

‘ Though I have put my Oxford address at the head of this letter, I am sitting in
reality in Brighton, and from my window I look
upon the sea about twenty steps from here. Both of us, I as well as my wife,
needed sea-air, and so we hope to enjoy this refreshing atmo- sphere here till
Christmas. Many thanks for your letter. I have also made use of Strabo’s
remarks about the population of the Caucasus. In a few days a second edition of my Lectures
on Language will be ready. My chief aim has been reached : the book has been
read and has excited great interest in the science of language. It is my con-
viction that we know nothing really which we cannot teach (I think Aristotle
was of the same opinion), and that nothing exists which cannot be clearly and
intelligibly expressed. It requires time and trouble indeed, but it is
effective, and that is the greatest reward of all work and study.

‘ The death of Prince Albert is an incalculable loss. It is
only now people seem to realize that something good can come even from Germany.’

Christmas was spent at Ray
Lodge, quietly, as it was throughout England. The thought of their
widowed Queen, and the sad Christmas at Osborne, weighed on all hearts, and the
universal mourning, not only in the upper classes, but among servants,
tradespeople, and even the poor, showed how the nation was sorrowing with their
loved Sovereign.

CHAPTER XIII

1862-1863

Birth of second child.
Exhibition. Stay in London.
Ewald. Ranke. Fourth volume of Rig-veda.
Second course of lectures on Science of Language. Paris. Germany. North
Italy. Lectures at Edin- burgh. First visit to Windsor.

On their return from Ray Lodge
to Oxford, Max Miiller settled down to work at the Rig-veda, determined that
the fourth volume should appear this year. In fact, the whole year was one of
strenuous work, for a second edition of his Lectures on Language came out
before the end of January, and a third in May, before the book had been out
eleven months, each edition being of 1,250 copies.

Towards the end of January he
went to Lord Ashburton’s for a couple of days, and from there he writes to his
wife : —

The Grange, Alresford, January
24, 1862.

‘ I had a miserable day for
travelling, pouring all the time. How- ever, I found all my trains quite right,
and arrived at Winchester about one. There I went to Mr. Moberly, one of the
masters, and had luncheon. They have a baby five days older than ours, but she
cannot run yet. Then we went to Dr. Moberly’s, and with him all over the school
and cathedral. He explained it all most excellently, but we must go there
together. The cathedral is magnificent, but when I have you with me, and
sunshine, it will be much more magnificent. ... At half-past three I started
for a nine miles’ drive, and arrived here in time for tea. Lady Ashburton seems
very pleasant, and he is a perfect English nobleman — I mean what he ought to
be.

I got your letter this morning,
and I hope you got mine. Yes, we are

very happy^ and I feel as if this
life could give us no greater happiness

than has been ours these two
bright years, and that if we are called

away sooner or later we ought to
part cheerfully, knowing that this

earth could give no more than has
been ours, and looking forward to

1862] Birth of Second Child 259

our new home as to a more
perfect state, where all that was good and true and unselfish in us will live
and expand, and all that was bad and mean will be purified and cast off. So let
us work here as long as it is day, but without fearing the night that will lead
us to a new and brighter dawn of life. I wish you had been here with me, for it
is a delightful place, and very pleasant people. Mrs. Sartoris is the Mrs. S.
Adelaide Kemble, and she still sings most beautifully. The Bishop of London,
too, appeared at dinner, and is staying here.
To-night I hear the Bishop of Winchester is expected. The house is full
of the most exquisite treasures of art, such pictures ! Van Dyck, Titian,
Velasquez, Andrea del Sarto, &c. This morning it was bright, and we had a
long ride ; we started with about twelve horses, and such beauties they all
were, and even your old husband had a splendid gallop, but came home quite
drenched with rain. We were caught by a pouring shower, and when I came home I
had no second coat, and had to appear at luncheon in my Volunteer cape — a
splendid figure. Then I found I had not got my grey trousers, but had taken an
old pair. However, I contrived to hide them in my cape, and looked a regular
night watchman. In the afternoon I sat in my room and read, and now I am
looking forward to to-morrow, when I shall have you and the little one again.
They have a little one here, eighteen months old, a very nice girl, but no boy
coming — and that must be a disappointment with such a place to leave. We have
had a very pleasant time, and if they ask us both I shall be very glad to come
again.’

On February 31 his second
child, another little girl, was

born, and he writes to give his
mother the good news, adding,

‘A little boy would have been
nicer, but I am quite as pleased

with a little daughter, and
girls give less trouble and anxiety

than boys.’

To Professor Bernays.

Translation. 64 High Street,
February 23.

‘ Sooner than I expected I have
received from my publisher the prospect of a third edition [of the Lectures],
and I write therefore to remind you of your kind promise to send me some
“corrections and additions”; it would be the more welcome, as a translation
into German by Professor C. Bottger in Dessau is to appear at the same time,
and the German reviewers have sharper eyes than the English ones. Last week I
lived in great disquietude, and the day before yesterday I became father for
the second lime. Thank God, all passed over happily, but the anxiety and
trouble is so great, I feel quite exhausted and ill, and the doctor sent me to
bed, but I did not stay there long.

S a

26o Oronhyatakha [ch. xm

‘ I had a visit to-day from a
Mohawk Indian ; he has learnt Latin and Greek, he has come to Oxford to study
here, but fancy! he has brought his feather garb with him, but according to the
statutes of the University, I am afraid he may not wear it. I found the man
very intelligent, and the savages more tolerant than many a civilized man.

‘ Aufrecht has got the
Professorship of Sanskrit in Edinburgh. It was offered to me (£500), but I
could not make up my mind to leave Oxford, and I am so glad to know that
Aufrecht is now so w^ell provided for. I do not know whether you have ever met
him. He is just thinking of publishing a new edition of his Umbrian and Oscan
Inscriptions.

‘ Have you read the
hyper-sceptic and somewhat arrogant book of Sir Cornewall Lewis, Historical
Survey of A ncient A stronomy ? Lepsius and Mommsen ought to answer him.’

Oronhyatakha, the Mohawk
mentioned above, vv^as a most interesting man. Dr. Acland had met him when he
was in Canada with the Prince of Wales, and said something which the Indian
interpreted as an invitation to Oxford. At all events, early in 1862 he
appeared, having been helped in his passage-money by friends. With a wild man’s
feelings about hospitality, he expected Dr. Acland to receive him in his house,
and provide for him. He had been well taught in Canada at a missionary school,
and funds were soon collected to enable him to study at Oxford. He used to come
regularly to Max Muller, who by dint of much questioning extracted a skeleton
grammar of the Mohawk tongue from him. Not that he knew what grammar meant, but
by getting him to translate the English equivalents, a student could arrange
the grammatical framework. One day, when writing down some declension or
conjugation, Max Miiller suddenly saw an irregularity, and stopping him, said,
‘ Why do you say that ? It ought to be
so-and-so.’ The Mohawk looked puzzled at first, and said, ‘What you say is the
way my old grandmother talked, but we now say as I have told you,’ thus showing
the rapidity with which an unwritten language may change.

Oronhyatakha went on very well in
Oxford, but some

unfavourable accounts were
received of him from some of

the missionaries to the Red
Indians, and it was thought

best to send him back to Canada.
He was very unhappy,

and the day he came to say
good-bye to Max Miiller he

1862] Letter to Baroness Bunsen
261

looked very fierce, and said, ‘
I buried my tomahawk, but I know where to find it.’ He quieted down, however,
on arriving in Canada, where he trained as a medical man, and as such has done
good work among the settled portion of his own people.

The following letter was
written by Max Muller to his old friend Baroness Bunsen, on hearing of the
death of her daughter, Baroness Ungern-Sternberg : it shows that in the midst
of his own happiness he did not forget to ‘ weep with those that weep.’

64, High Street, April 2.

‘ I saw in the papers the sad
news of the new loss you have suffered, and though I fear almost to intrude on
your grief, which is sacred ground, yet I cannot but send you a few words of
sympathy to tell you how deeply I share in your affliction. Your husband’s
death I feel to-day as keenly as when I first heard of it. I feel it as an
affliction that has fallen, not on you only, but on all of us ; the world is
changed since he has left it. Life has lost something of its bright- ness since
those bright eyes and that bright sound of his voice closed. Some part of ourselves is dead in his death.
I did not write to you then, because words are such poor things, but I have
mourned for him ; I always shall, not only as for a friend, but as for a man
such as I shall never see again. When I saw the loss of your young, blooming
daughter, all the happy days of Carlton Terrace came back like a dream. How
perfectly happy your life was then ; it was happiness even to watch it. And yet
God knows that we want rain and storm as much as sunshine, and He sends us both
as seems best to His love and wisdom. When all breaks down. He lifts us up. I
have myself suffered deep grief — for three days my wife’s life was despaired
of. But when we feel quite crushed and
forsaken and alone, we then feel the real presence of our truest Friend, who,
whether by joys or sorrows, is always calling us to Him, and leading us to that
true Home where we shall find Him, and in Him all we loved, with Him all we
believed, and through Him all we hoped for and aspired to on earth. Our broken
hearts are the truest earnest of everlasting life. May He who alone can send
comfort help you to bear the affliction which He has sent. ]\Iy wife begs me to
add the expression of her deep sympathy, and I remain, with sincere regard,
yours very truly, ‘ M. M.’

To HIS Mother.

Translation. Oxford, April 6.

‘ I am hard at work, and am
printing my Veda and a third edition

of my Lectures. Our garden is
very gay, full of tulips and hyacinths.

262 Prix Volney [ch. xm

and is a great amusement to us.
I get but little time for reading. I
read the Mendelssohn letters with great delight. They are interesting to those
who knew the man, and show his great amiability, but the right pith is wanting
sometimes. They have been translated into English. I have not yet seen
Varnhagen’s new volume. The weather here is very bad, and Oxford is surrounded
with water.’

To HIS Wife,

Oxford, April 19.

‘ It is so difficult not to
lead a selfish life, placed as we are, with all our duties at home and with
hardly any duties to fulfil which are really painful. I feel I ought to work,
and do nothing but work, but then I like my work, and though I believe in the
end it will answer some good and important purpose, yet whatever I do redounds
to my own benefit too. ... I sometimes think I ought to give more time to you
and to society, but I have a feeling that time is so precious, and I have a
good work before me, and I should like, with God’s assistance, to finish it. It
will serve to show the glory of God in the government of the world from the
beginning ; it will show that there was no portion of mankind ever forsaken by
our common Father ; and though His ways with the various races of men are
wonderful, and at first very perplexing, we must learn from God and not attempt
to prescribe to Him how He might better have brought about His mysterious
purposes with the sons of men. Well, I feel I ought not to forsake that work ;
small as it may seem, it will be an important element here- after for a true
appreciation of the history of the world — that great drama in which nothing is
without a purpose and a meaning, from the beginning to the end. Much of my work
at present is only clearing away rubbish, and would not interest you, but there
is a temple under- neath, as will appear by-and-by.’

M. Stanislas Julien had
persuaded him to send in his Lectures on Language in competition for the Prix
Volney. On July 29 he received the
following letter from M. Flourens, the head of the Commission, announcing his success
: —

Institut de France, July 28.

‘ Monsieur, — Permettez-moi de
vous annoncer que la Commission du Prix Volney a decern^, tout d’une voix, le
prix a votre bel ouvrage.

‘ Le plus ignorant de vos
juges, et le plus heureux de votre succ^s,

‘ Flourens.’

Translation. * SiR, — Allow me
to announce to you that the Com- mission of the Prix Volney have unanimously
adjudged the prize to your beautiful work. The most ignorant of your judges and
the most happy at your success,— Flourens.’

1862] Jenny Lind 263

It will be remembered this was the
second time the prize had been awarded to Max MUller, as author of the best
work on language, written in any language during the year.

To HIS IMOTHER.

Translation. Oxford, May 29.

‘ I am very well, though I have
so much work. I do not know often how I shall get through it all. I have so
many examinations — six to get through in the next two months. It is tedious
work, but brings in money. How I wish you could see our garden ! The roses and
pinks are coming out, and all looks so fresh, and is a great delight to us. The
middle of June we think of going to London for a fort- night to see the
Exhibition.’

The Kingsleys came to stay with
the Max Miillers this year for Commemoration, bringing their eldest
daughter. Jenny Lind, who came for one
of the concerts, dined one evening at the Max Midlers’, and as many people were
asked to meet her as the rooms would hold. Deichmann, the violinist, was of the
party, and there was also some good amateur singing, but the host and hostess
could not ask their distin- guished guest to sing. At last, she herself walked
to the piano, and sang, accompanied by her husband, five songs by Schumann, one
after another. It was very hot weather, and the windows were all open, and High
Street filled rapidly at the first sound of the great singer’s voice, which
rang out into the night, and was heard for a considerable distance. Mr. Tuckwell recalls the scene in his
reminiscences : —

‘ I was his guest sometimes in
his pretty house opposite the Mag- dalen elms, where played Deichmann —

Whose bowing seemed made

For a hand with a jewel —

where Jenny Lind warbled, and
Charles Kingsley stammered in impassioned tete-a-tele!

Another reminiscence of Mr.
Tuckwell’s belongs to this

year. Max Midler ‘ consulted me
about two matters in

which, strange to say, I was
better informed than he — the

art of budding roses, and the
conduct of marine aquaria. He

watched me one day in our garden
putting in some buds, and

tried his hand, but gave it up
presently, saying, “ While you

264 Bishop Patteson [ch. xm

are budding a dozen standards,
I can earn £^ by writing an

article.” ‘

During this year more than one
letter passed between Max Muller and his old friend Dr. Patteson, the
Missionary Bishop of Melanesia, who had found the Lectures on Language a great
help to him in studying the many dialects of his scattered diocese.

The Rev. R. H. Codrington
writes : —

To Mrs. Max Muller.

St. Richard’s Walk, Chichester,

March 6, 1901.

. . . ‘ One thing I very well
remember, and that was the Bishop’s

personal affection for your
husband. I don’t see that Miss Yonge

has mentioned in her Lt/e of the
Bishop that they met at Dresden

when both were young men. The
Bishop certainly cherished the

memory of those times, and when he
talked, as he often used, of the

great work of the Professor at
Oxford, he used always to speak as

a warm friend, not as fellow worker
in languages or a learner. He

always gave a copy of the Lectures
on the Science of Language (when

he could get one) to men who joined
the mission, and he advised us

to start with as much knowledge of
that book as we could get. For

my own part, I am sure that I never
should have made any progress

in the study of Melanesian
languages but for the help and encourage-

ment that I got in that way, and
afterwards when on my return for

a time to England I was wishing to
write something. My own

gratitude will never fail. . . .
Yours very sincerely,

‘ R. H. Codrington.’

From Bishop Patteson.

Auckland, N. Z., May 30, 1862.

‘My dear Muller, — I am very
glad to have your book, and more glad still to have a copy of it from you.
Edwin Palmer sent me a copy two or three months ago. I have not read it yet,
reserving it as a treat for my sea life, which begins again now in about ten
days. I wish I could write to you fully
about these Melanesian languages. I
don’t know enough of them to write briefly, and I don’t want to take up your
time. Gabelentz has sent me his Grammar. I am in com- munication with him. He
is on the right track, and has done a great deal with exceedingly scanty
materials.

‘ The division usually made
between Polynesian and IMelanesian

dialects is an arbitrary one. It
is true that east of the Fiji group the

Polynesian language is met with
in a much purer form than in the

1862] Melanesian Languages 265

West Pacific, but Fiji is more
than half Polynesian ; its structure almost wholly so ; and the Polynesian
element is carried, to my certain knowledge, through all the Banks Islands and
all the New Hebrides, and it comes out very clearly in several of the Solomon
group ; and I found it well developed the other day when I first landed at
Ysabel, and found that I could talk somewhat to the people after a short time.

‘ I believe I might say almost
as much of the Santa Cruz Archi- pelago, but I don’t know as much. The Loyalty
Islands contain but few affinities with the Polynesian. I don’t mean to say
that these dialects cannot be classified by one who knows a little of philology
; I could prove it to you, if you were here, in five minutes, I am sure; and I
am satisfied that if a man had the ability and knowledge of all the dialects,
he could reconstruct the original language, or something very near it, just as
one puts together a child’s puzzle. Practically,
till one knows a good many of them, they of course appear to be, and have to be
learnt as, separate unconnected languages ; the difference of dialect being
often very wide.

‘ What an indication of the
jealousy and suspicion of their lives the extraordinary multiplicity of these
languages affords ! In each genera- tion, for aught I know, they diverge more
and more; provincialisms and local words, &c., perpetually introduce new
causes of perplexity.

‘ Well, enough of this ; and
indeed I have no time to study these languages scientifically, so how can I
write about them ? I need not tell you that I heartily regret the blunder about
the Sanskrit Professor- ship. From Sir Wm. IMartin I have heard something of
you ; he met you, you may remember, at Oxford. If you can find time to send me
a line, I shall be very glad ; but I know you are much occupied.

‘ I am, my dear IMiiller, very
sincerely yours,

‘ J. C. Patteson, Missionary
Bishop.’

When the Commemoration was
over, the Max Miillers spent a fortnight in London, to see the Exhibition. They
dined out constantly with their many friends. At a dinner at Mr. William
Longman’s, a Frenchman who was of the party, and was particularly anxious to
make Max Miiller’s acquaintance, was overheard in the course of the evening to
say^ ‘ I did not know a man so learned shall be so very young ! ‘

To Mr. William Longman.

Oxford, July 27.

‘ I know that you will be glad to
hear that my Lectures have just

been awarded the Prix Volney by
the French Academy. The prize is

given for the best work on
Comparative Philology, and it is open to

266 Professor Ewald [ch. xm

all countries. The prize is
only 1,200 francs, but it is very pleasant to have got it, and I hope it will
help to sell the third edition.’

To HIS Wife.

London, y«/v 7.

‘ All I can say is that I have
heard and read the worst that can be said against our religion — I mean the
true original teaching of Christ ; and I feel that I am ready in mind, if not
in body, to lay down my life for the truth of His teaching. All our
difficulties arise from the doctrines of men, not from His doctrine. There is
no outward evidence of the truth of His doctrine, but the Spirit of God that is
within us. He testifieth to its truth. If it does not, we are not yet disciples
of Christ, but we may be hereafter. But more of that later. Be certain of this, that to repress a doubt
is to repress the spirit of truth ; a doubt well spoken out is generally a
doubt solved. Only all this requires great seriousness of mind — it must assume
an importance greater than anything else in life, and then we can fight our way
through it. God is with us in our struggles.’

To Rev. Charles Kingsley.

August.

‘ Ranke {T/ie Popes, &c.)
is staying here for a week, and very anxious to make your acquaintance. Could
you come here for a day to see him ? He dines with us next Saturday, but any
other day will do. Next Monday Ewald
will be here ; he has been here for a fortnight, but comes back all the way
from Penrith to see Stanley. If our spare room is occupied (we expect the
Walronds), we can always get you a bed close by. I think you would like Ewald —
more even than Ranke.’

Ewald’s visit has been fully
described in the Autobiography, and the way he was cross-examined by some of
the younger M.A.’s. He was a most lovable old man in private inter- course,
though a fiery opponent of anything like political tyranny. His power of work
was almost phenomenal : he would spend the whole day at the Bodleian, moving
across to the Camera w}ien the great library closed, sometimes returning there
again after a late dinner. Canon Farrar records an incident of this visit of
Ewald to Oxford : —

‘ Ranke and Ewald were both in
Oxford in the middle of the Long

Vacation. I determined to ask
them to dinner together, though I

dreaded a little friction between
them, of Gottingen versus Berlin, and

of Theology versus Modern
History. I asked Canon Stanley and

1862] Dr, Hang 267

Miiller to meet them. It was
due to Miiller’s extreme tact that con- versation was kept up and yet friction
avoided. Ranke, oddly enough, had his head full of the probable danger to be
apprehended in refer- ence to European politics from Servia and Bulgaria (which
afterwards proved true), and we could not get him to talk with interest on any-
thing else. Miiller showed his cleverness and shrewd common sense by imparling
a vein of humour to the conversation, which prevented a painful outburst of
disagreement ; for Miiller had a vein of true humour. It was not sallies of
wit, abrupt outbursts of the comic, but a playful fun which flowed like a purling
brook, intertwining itself with conversation, and which put crooked spirits in
harmony.

‘ I have already implied that
Miiller had remarkable powers of con- versation : he was always lively and
always instructive. His mastery of English, both in voice and pronunciation,
and of purity of style in writing, was a marvel. To this ought to be added a
pellucid clearness of exposition and description, even in most abstract
subjects, which is seen to some extent in his German tracts as well as more
con- spicuously in his English writings. His syntax was so free from
entanglement, and his language so forceful and expressive, that no reader had
to halt to ask himself the meaning of what he read.’

‘O

It was in the course of the
summer that Max Miiller

received an interesting account
from Dr. Martin Haug,

director of Sanskrit studies at
the College of Poona, of

a great assembly of Brahmin
Pundits held outside the town,

in order to correct their MSS. of
the Rig-veda by the three

first published volumes of his
great edition. The Pundits

would not touch the books
themselves, as the printing made

them impure, an idea having got
abroad that cows’ blood was

used in mixing the ink employed.
But they sat in solemn

conclave for some days, and Max
Miiller’s carefully prepared

text was read aloud, and the MSS.
corrected by it. ‘ Their

judgement,’ says Dr. Haug, ‘ is
to this effect. This edition

must be written by a great Pundit
versed in the Vedas and

Sdstras {veda-sdstra sainpaimvi),
the highest title of honour

of a learned man in India.’ Dr.
Haug then speaks of the

difficulty of getting trustworthy
copies of ancient Sanskrit

MSS. ‘ Not that there are no good
MSS. existing, but they

are to be found generally in the
possession of rich super-

stitious Brahmans, who do not
admit Europeans to their

libraries, and when copies are
made for Sahibs, they are made

268 Letter to Mr. Gladstone
[ch. xm

intentionally bad and
incomplete. One of my Brahman friends told me this the other day.’

The
following letter is the first of a correspondence which was carried on till
within a few months of Mr. Gladstone’s death. An ardent Liberal from his
University days, Max Muller was a great admirer

அன்பு தளபதி · அன்பு தளபதி Fri Mar 11, 2011 1:44 pm

of Mr. Gladstone, and a member
of his Oxford committees till his rejection by the University in 1865, But Max
Muller could not follow Mr. Gladstone’s Home Rule policy, and was a determined
Unionist, a Liberal Unionist, and in the contests in the borough of Oxford
voted ‘blue’ for the last ten years of his life, though his deep respect for
Mr. Gladstone’s intellectual gifts, and the spell cast by his personality,
remained in full force to the last.

To THE Right Hon. W. E.
Gladstone.

64, High Street, September 7,
1862.

‘ My dear Sir, — I beg to thank
you for your kind letter. It was

a true gratification to me to
hear that my Lectures have attracted your

attention, and that on the whole
you approved of them. I am fully

and painfully aware of the many
and doubtful points in them, but

I am quite satisfied if I have
only succeeded in engaging the interest

of a few thoughtful scholars in
favour of a science which I feel

convinced has still to teach us
many important lessons. The sooner

my book is superseded by a better
one the better. I hope next

spring to give a new series of lectures
on the same subject, and

intend then to enter more fully
into the relation between Language

and Thought, particularly in
ancient times. One of the most im-

portant fields where the
influence of language on thought — the

Tartar’s bow, as Bacon calls it —
has been at work, is Ancient

Mythology, but at the same time
nothing is so beset with difficulties

as the scientific analysis of
mythological names. They belong to

a very primitive stratum of
language, and are full of anomalies ;

yet even these anomalies point to
laws which determine their for-

mation. Until these laws are
discovered, until we can account for

every letter, whether radical or
formative, in the names of the Arian

gods, all guesses at their
original conception must be checked. It

is almost a truism, but
nevertheless a very important truth in the

Science of Language, that the
first meaning of every word is its

etymological meaning. That
meaning may grow and change, it may

shift to the opposite pole of the
compass ; yet, if we want to know

the first impulse which led to
the formation of certain names and

notions — of nomina or numina —
the only answer, if any, must be

‘*’.

*%

i862] Ares 269

given by etymology. Now as to
the name of Ares to which you refer in your letter, I confess that I know
nothing at all satisfactory as to its etymology. I cannot find out (i) whether
*A/j?;f shows any signs of an initial digamma, viz. whether the root from which
it is derived began with a semi-vowel or with a vowel ; (2) I am puzzled by the
accent of “Ap?;?, for in adjectives in tjs the accent is generally on the last
; (3) I am perplexed by the declension, where, as far as I know, no crasis ever
takes place in the gen. eos, &c. Till these difficulties are removed, it is
impossible to fix on any etymology, or rather, I should say, no etymology can
be satisfactory which does not account for all these anomalies. I think it was
in your book on Homer that I read the last account of Ares (I have not got it
by me to-day), but I have no doubt that you are right in representing Ares as a
Thracian god. The coincidence between Aria as the name of Thrace and Ares is
therefore curious. But how are the two words to be reconciled.? If Ares shows
traces of an initial digamma it could not come from the root from which we have
Aria ; nor could Ares be an adjective or other derivative of Aria. I know of no
god named originally from a country, rather are the names of countries derived
from the names of gods. But again in this case^Apijs would never lead to “Apia,
it would be “Apeia. These are nothing but doubts and misgivings, and I have
nothing else to say on the subject, but as to (“ippT]v its etymology is clear.
It has the initial digamma and is identical with the Sanskrit vrzshan. ‘Ai^T^p
again is, I believe, the Sanskrit nara or nn, man. In Greek words there is
frequently a vowel prefixed to an initial N, D, L, Bh ; for instance : —

Sk. naman, name, opofia.

Sk. nakha, nail, 6W|.

Sk. bhrfi, brow, o(f)pvs.

Sk. navan, nine, twea.

Sk. rudhira, red, ipv6p6s.

Sk. laghu, light, eXaxvs.

I confess I know of no instance
where in Greek an a is prefixed

to an initial rj; it is always
e or o, but we find a before s, in

Sk. star, Engl, star, da-Trjp
(stella = sterula).

Whatever therefore may be the
etymology of Ares, app7i’ and dvT]p

point to two distinct roots, and
neither of these would yield a satis-

factory explanation of Ares. I
should have answered your note

before, but I had promised to
send the IMS. of the fourth volume of

my edition of the Veda to the
Press by Saturday night, and I had to

work from morning till evening to
keep my promise. I hope you

will excuse the delay of my
answer, and I only regret that it is so

270 Fourth Volume of Rig-veda
[ch. xm

little satisfactory. Believe me
to be, my dear sir, your obedient servant and sincere admirer.’

The fourth volume of the
Rig-veda was now finished. The preface had required long and careful work, as
Max MUller had to answer various criticisms on his Ancicjit Sanskrit
LiteraUirc^ and the dates he had there assigned to the Hymns of the Rig-veda ;
Wilson and Whitney agreeing in considering these limits as too narrow, whilst
other critics considered them too wide. In his preface therefore Max Miiller
felt it necessary to enter fully into the question as to whether the age of the
Vedic Hymns could be fixed by astronomical evidence — and this led to the
further question whether the Indian Nakshatras or divisions of the heavens into
twenty- seven equal parts were of Indian origin, or derived from a foreign
country ; a controversy which had been carried on with some acrimony, Biot the
great astronomer claiming to have proved the Chinese origin of the Nakshatras,
in which he was supported by Lassen.

The theory which now counts the
greatest number of supporters attributes to the Nakshatras a Babylonian origin,
whence they spread eastward to both Hindus and Chinese. Max Miiller in his preface tried to establish
the Indian origin of the Nakshatras, and adds some valuable notes from
Professor Donkin and Mr. Main, the Radcliffe Observer, giving the positions of
the moon and planets 1424 B.C. All this was reprinted as a separate pamphlet
under the title of Ancient Hindu Astronomy and Chronology. He further defends
himself against various critics who complained that he ‘ did not enter into all
the controverted points, the theories, guesses, doubts, assertions, and
counter-assertions of various scholars,’ and assures them that he did not
shrink from the trouble of examining them, but that he believed it ‘ to be our
duty to learn to distinguish between what is important and what is not. We only
retard the discovery of truth by entering into every bypath on the right and on
the left. The straight line is always the best, the simplest machinery the most
perfect. If we can prove our point without a great apparatus of so-called
learning, it is our duty to do so. He sweeps cleanest that makes the least
dust.’

i862] Visit to Tenby 271

Max Miiller apologizes for the
delay in bringing out this volume in these words : —

·
For a time it was doubtful whether the funds
necessary for the completion of the Rig-veda would be provided. This caused
uncer- tainty and delay. When I resumed my work, my time was no longer my own,
and there were more urgent occupations which left me but scant leisure for the
prosecution of my Sanskrit studies. Had I been allowed to devote, I do not say
the whole, but at least one- half of my time to the study of Sanskrit and the
carrying on of my edition of the Rig-veda, the present volume would have been
pub- lished long ago. The MSS. of the Commentary of Sayana are very inferior
for these later portions, the number of passages hopelessly corrupt and
imperfect is constantly increasing. There is many a short line in these notes
which represents the results of hours, nay of days and weeks of hard work.’

Max Miiller again acknowledges
the help given him by Dr. Aufrecht, who, though he had long ceased to be his
secretary, had been living on in Oxford. The preface contains a warm tribute to
the memory of Professor Wilson : ‘ Wilson had lived through almost the whole
history of Sanskrit scholarship, and had taken part in nearly every important
work that marked an epoch in the study of Indian literature, history, and
religion. Every one of his own works represents a new conquest. He never
followed, he was always first.’ Finally, in dwelling on the translation of the
Rig-veda, begun by Wilson, to be carried on by Ballantyne, Max Miiller points
out the great difficulty of making a thoroughly clear translation of the whole
: —

‘ Some portions, I confess, I
consider as hopeless, as likely to resist all attempts at interpretation, but
there is no reason to despair. The
Rig-veda is the most ancient book of the Aryan world. Every Hymn, every verse,
every word that can be deciphered in it is a gain. These Hymns represent the lowest stratum in
the growth of the human mind that can be reached anywhere by means of
contempora- neous literature.’

Max Miiller was so thoroughly
exhausted by the summer’s work, that he found it necessary to get a change
before term.

He and his wife went for a
fortnight to Tenby, which he

thoroughly enjoyed, visiting
Manorbier, Carew, Pembroke,

272 Welsh Music [ch. xm

and other ruins with keen
interest, and searching for sea animals for his aquarium in Oxford with the
zest of a boy. On their way back a visit
was paid to a relative near Swansea, where the large copper-works of his wife’s
family were inspected with great interest, Max Miiller particularly enjoying
the part-singing of the men employed at the works, during their dinner hour. He
had not heard Welsh singing and voices before, and was much struck with the
natural and national turn for music, as a strong contrast to the absence of it
in the English labourer and artisan.

To Professor Bernays.

Tra?islalwn. December 14.

‘ I will not let the old year
slip past without once more shaking hands with you — as well as it is possible
from this great distance. It is so long since I heard from you, or from any of
my German friends. I am afraid it may be
my fault. I wanted to finish the fourth volume of my Veda, and so I could not
find time for anything else, nor did I think of anything else. But now I have
finished, and I feel like a snake that has just cast her skin, and is now going
forth for further prey. In the new Germany I see no sign of life, and
I doubt whether we shall live to see what our fathers hoped for, realized. Uhland, one of the last noble, faithful,
patriotic men, had been hoping for so long, but he too has been called away
without having lived to see the morning dawn. When I think of Bunsen in 1848,
and of his sure, prophetic hopes ! and he too is gone, and owls sit in the
eagle’s nest which he had built up here in London. Here in England we possess personal and
political freedom, and that is such a blessing — it is like the fresh sea-air,
but it is habeas corpus, not habeas animum. The spiritual struggle proceeds
slowly, and the dogged resistance is great, and the passion of persecution
would do honour to the sixteenth century. Bishop Colenso appeals to the English
mercantile understanding ; it makes more impression than all that tastes of
mind.

‘ The book will amuse you.
Jowett has somewhat retired, and is at work at his edition of Plato’s Republic.
Stanley fights very bravely ; he has just
published Lectures on the Jewish Church, first series, which produce an eflfect
in England, but will hardly
be appreciated in Germany.

‘ Pattison sits still, says
litde, but thinks so much. His young wife

is a little too young for him, I
am afraid, but he is well and of good

cheer. To-morrow night there will
be some acting at his house in the

1863] Famine in Lancashire 273

College ! How is your work
getting on, and what are your plans for the future ? Shall we meet anywhere next
year ? I hope to go to Germany
next summer, but before that I have to give a course of lectures in London, about the
material and spiritual element in Language. My old lectures are appearing now
in a German trans- lation, also Italian and French translations are to appear,
and I am reproduced in America.
I hope the next volume will be an improve- ment, but whether people will like
it is another question.

·
How I wish you could see my home here in Oxford ! I wish indeed
for no better. I have altogether given up having any wishes at all, and I enjoy
the most beautiful happiness which life has to offer — a good wife and two
healthy children.

‘ Aufrecht is Professor in Edinburgh, happily
married to a pretty, cultured wife with independent means ; he writes most
happily, and the sunshine has driven away the old clouds of envy and
suspicion. In old friendship.’

The Christmas was spent at Ray
Lodge, but very quietly, for the awful distress in Lancashire,
owing to the ‘ cotton famine ‘ caused by the American War, weighed on all
hearts and all purses. Superfluous luxuries were cut off in almost every
household, and except a tiny Christmas tree for the children, there were no
presents, all money that could be spared going weekly to the fund for the
thousands starving in the North from no fault of their own.

By the middle of January Max
Miiller was quietly settled again in Oxford, and busy with the preparation of
the second course of lectures on ‘ The Science of Language’ for the Royal
Institution. His course of lectures this term in Oxford were on ‘ Bopp’s
Comparative Grammar^ Towards the close of the month he heard that the fourth
volume of the Rig-veda, the first dedicated to the Queen, had been received at
Osborne, and that ‘ Her Majesty appreciated the learning and erudition that
must have been employed in its production, and that it and the three first
volumes sent at the same time (beautifully bound in morocco and gold) would
form a valuable addition to the Royal Library.’ Soon after he heard from his
old friend and teacher Professor Brockhaus in Leipzig : ‘ Your LecUires on the
Science of Language have, as you know, found many admirers here, and every one
is looking forward to your new volume.’

I T

274 Lectures on Language,
Second Course [ch. xm

The London lectures were even
more crowded than the first course. Max Miiller found them more fatiguing, for
the course was longer, and he went up and down from Oxford, only sleeping in
London if engaged to dine out.

Towards the close of the course
he delivered a Friday-

evening lecture on ‘ The Vedas’
to an enormous audience,

people sitting on every step of
the staircases, and standing

in the gangways. This lecture was
repeated in substance

two years later at Leeds, and
will be found in the first edition

of Chips ^ Volume L

To Professor Bernays.

Translation. Oxford, March 3,
1863.

‘ What you say about the German
translation is just what I feel. I have
not wished for a translation, but cannot prevent it being done, and therefore
have to leave the rest to the judgement of the pub- lisher. In no case should I
undertake to write differently for Germany than for England. My manner of
writing may look learned or unlearned, that is the same to me. I know it costs
more labour to think out a subject so that it can be clearly stated, than to
bring it to light half digested and with all its threads entangled. I work for
no class in particular, nor for a definite purpose, and I recognize only one
duty which renders our work responsible, i.e. the promoting of truth; and nothing
is true which is not perfectly clear. There are some hard nuts hidden in my
lectures, the cracking of which has tried the teeth of some obscure scholars ;
but the honest ones among them will confess this, and will gratefully accept
the cleanly peeled kernel, I could have made an immense noise, had I cracked
all my hard nuts before the public, and many empty ones might have been mixed
up with them without the readers noticing it. But that sort of thing I consider
wrong, and I shall never be infected by the aristocratic arrogance of scholars.
I can well believe, that if I had written five unreadable volumes instead of
one small volume, the sale in Germany would have been more rapid.

‘ What I have worked out may be
good or bad, but each cultivated man, be he an Englishman or a Kaffir, knows
what I am driving at and how matters stand. That was not always the case with
Bunsen.

With all respect for his
knowledge, his proofs were not always

absolutely convincing, firm or
healthy. But I am quite prepared to

see my translation abused in
Germany ; never mind, failure with an

honest conscience is better than
success with a sacrifice of what one

really thinks. If you want to
read obscure books about language,

1863] Summer Plans 275

read Humboldt, or should you
wish to read obscure, superficial books, read Steinthal, &c., &c. How
such things can be endured in Germany, I do not understand, and I expect no
political or religious freedom till the literary cobwebs are swept away. Now,
you will say, “Lion, you have roared effectively!” [Lowe, gut gebriilll !\ but
I think we understand each other in spite of it all. I have not yet seen
Bunsen’s Letters, but I will try to get them. I sit here toiling away at the
Veda, and feel heartily tired of the whole business. In faithful love.’

To HIS Wife.

Oxford, March 14.

‘ I shall live this week like a
hermit and try to get on with my lectures. You see, I must work hard, for that
is what we are all meant to do, and though it may seem to deprive us of some of
the enjoyment of life, it really increases real happiness ; it makes one feel
that one does not live for nothing, and one enjoys one’s holidays with a much
stouter heart. I hope our summer will be a very happy one, but till then there
is still a good deal of work to be gone through.’

To HIS Mother.

Translation. Oxford, March,
1863.

‘ I live in one perpetual trot,
and shall be glad when my lectures in London are over. In the summer I will
amuse myself. If I can get away early in June I think of going with G. to Paris
; the middle of July I must return for the examination of the Indian civilians,
which lasts a fortnight. When that is over we shall go to Germany. But I must
have good air, so I think we will meet you in Dresden, and all go together to
the Lake of Geneva, for I feel in myself that I want bracing, and Dresden does
not do for that. I only grieve that we
shall thus see so little of Augusta and Krug.
Our great difficulty is about the children. The little one certainly
must not go — the doctor forbids it — so the question is about Ada. I don’t think I could bear to be so long
without her, nor G. either, and yet the
long journey is not good at her age. We discuss it every day, and can come to
no decision. I can make no fixed plan yet, I am so overpowered with work ; but
I hope all will be as we wish, and that we may enjoy the summer happily
together.’

To Professor Tyndall.

Oxford, March 14.

‘Accept my best thanks for your
kind help in providing me with

a most excellent Siren for my
lecture yesterday. My audience

seemed delighted with it,
though I am sorry to say it took up more

of my time than I had to spare.
I shall have to finish my lecture

T 2

276 Tales of Thebes and Argos
[ch. xm

next Saturday, but I shall not
trouble you either for the Siren or for any other experiment, as I must get on
with my subject, and cannot afford any more amusements. I am much pleased with
Helmholtz’s book, and should give a great deal to be able to hear your lectures
on “ Sound,” and to see some of the experiments which, though so well described
by Helmholtz, are yet imperfect and unsatisfactory on paper.

·
Do you not think that if our scales were
properly constructed, all harmonies would be necessarily harmonious, and not
inharmonious, as they now are after the 7^th ?’

Easter was spent at Ray Lodge,
with many old friends

staying in the house, who all ‘
enjoyed MUller ‘s music,’ says

a contemporary Diary.

To HIS Wife.

April 7.

‘ When I ordered your fly, I
found Mrs. in great distress :

her baby had died on Sunday quite
suddenly. I went to see the little child, and it looked so calm and peaceful,
and yet that poor mother would have given her very life to have had that little
soul back. It was heartrending to see her, and I could give her but little
comfort, but it was a solemn sight. What a small line it is that separates us
and all that we love here from that life w^hich waits for us, and why should we
be so unwilling to go home, for here our home is not, and the great wrench must
come, and happy are those who have passed through it. Yet when I looked on that
little child that had been playing about but a few days ago, and then thought
of our little darlings, I felt it must be fearful to part with them, if one did
not feel that a happier life is in store for them than what they would have
found here. And with all this misery going on every- where, one lives on and
laughs and takes it all as a matter of course, whereas if one looks into life
as it is, one wonders how one can ever forget it again, and ever care again for
the littlenesses of which our pleasures and our pride consist here. Ernst ist
das Leben, so says the German proverb, and very true it is.’

It was at this time that Max
MUller first met with Sir George Cox’s admirable books on mythology. Sir George
seems to have sent him The Tales of Thebes and Argos, and the following letter
is the beginning of a correspondence on Comparative Mythology, spread over many
years. The editor owes these letters to Sir George Cox to the kindness of the
Rev. R. W. Rees of Manchester, into whose hands they had passed.

1863] Dr. Pusey’s Attack on
Kingsley 277

To Rev. G. Cox.

Ray Lodge, April i6, 1863.

‘ Dear Sir, — ... I was
delighted when reading your Tales ‘, and I feel convinced that in the form in
which you have given them these myths are nearer to what they originally were
than in any of the works of the mythographer, whether ancient or modern. I
never felt so strongly that on the whole the principles of Comparative Mytho-
logy are right than when I saw them applied as you have applied them. I do not
despair that we shall discover and disentangle many more of the complicated
myths of the Aryan nations, though I know but too well that the ground is
treacherous and requires great caution. Yours with sincere regard, ‘ Max Muller.’

The end of April Max Miiller went
to London as one of

the deputation from the
University of Oxford, to present the

address of congratulation to the
Prince of Wales on his

marriage. The Prince of Wales
graciously promised to honour

his Alma Mater with his presence
at Commemoration, accom-

panied by the Princess. As is the
custom on such occasions,

His Royal Highness sent in the
names of those whom he

desired should receive the
honorary degree of D.C.L. Among

these appeared the name of
Charles Kingsley, one of the

Prince’s chaplains. At once Dr.
Pusey opposed the degree

in Council, on the ground that
Hypatia, Mr. Kingsley’s finest

work, was immoral. Charles
Kingsley’s friends, among

whom may be mentioned Dr.
Stanley, Dr. Rolleston, and

Max Muller, were very indignant,
and the day that the name

was finally to be voted on in
Council, Dr. Stanley ap-

peared armed with a copy of
Hypatia borrowed from Max

Muller, which still has all the
passages marked in it, used by

Dr. Stanley in opposing the
Professor of Hebrew. But though

the name might have been carried
in Council, a vote of

non placet was threatened in the
Theatre, in the very presence

of the Prince, and to avoid so
scandalous a scene, Charles

Kingsley’s friends withdrew his
name. A few days later

Max Miiller had a letter from
Mrs. Kingsley which is given

here by permission. In sending it
on to his wife, who was

away from home. Max says : ‘ I
enclose an excellent letter

from Mrs. Kingsley, for which she
deserves more than a

^ Of Thebes and Argos.

278 Visit to Paris [ch. xm

D.C.L. degree. I am curious to
know how the Prince will take it, and I am only afraid that he will never know
how badly people behaved.’

From Mrs. Kingsley.

EvERSLEY Rectory, Wednesday.

‘ My dear Max, — Charles is
away at Whitchurch fishing, so he will not receive your mosi kind letter till
to-morrow. I have written by this post to the Rollestons that they may fill up
their rooms, merely saying that unavoidable circumstances will keep us at home
on June 15, and I do hope they will not think us ungrateful and changeable. I
have no doubt there is some wise reason for this great disappointment, and
perhaps the great honour under all circumstances which we should have felt it
to be, would have been very bad for us. It is so difficult to be perfectly
single-minded, even in a little parsonage, that perhaps it is a great blessing
to be saved the Theatre of Oxford, which may not be the best soil for the
growth of such a virtue ; and I am sure I longed too vehemently for the sight
of my dear husband in a scarlet gown for it to have done me any good. Depend
upon us both for not mentioning the subject. It will always be associated with
the pleasant and grateful remembrance of your kindness, dear Max, and Dr.

Stanley’s, and I shall try hard
to let it obliterate Dr. Pusey and his

Christian hatred. Oh ! it is a
great mercy to live in a parsonage

remote from courts and courtiers,
and even doctors of divinity. Best

love to dearest G. and delicious
Ada. Yours ever aflTectionately,

‘ F. E. Kingsley.’

Early in June the Max Miillers
went to Paris, leaving their children at Ray Lodge. Here they passed a
delightful month in constant intercourse with many of the most dis- tinguished
members of the literary world of Paris, a world that all along kept entirely
aloof from the brilliant but evil Court of Louis Napoleon. One evening was
spent with the Mohls, Madame Mohl still keeping up on a smaller scale the Salon
of the earlier part of the century. On this occasion Madame Mohl, who was about
to start for her annual visit to London, amused her guests by parading all the
bonnets she had provided for her expedition, and trying them on, one after
another. Only those who remember Madame Mohl’s quaint, almost bizarre,
appearance can imagine the droll effect as one by one the smart Parisian
bonnets were essayed, and the verdict of her guests, male and female, eagerly
expected.

1863] Mignefs Eloge on Macanlay
279

Renan’s house too was often
visited, with its rooms hung with some of the best portraits by Ary Scheffer,
Madame Renan being his niece, daughter of Henri Scheffer, whose fine portrait
occupied a conspicuous place. Max Muller attended the meetings at the Institute
as a corresponding member, and he and his wife were both present the day that
M. Mignet pronounced the doge on Lord Macaulay. It was a fine scene ; the hall
surmounted by its great dome was well filled by the members of the Institute,
all wearing the beautiful habit brode chosen by Richelieu, and ladies in the
gayest of summer dresses. Mignet ‘s melodious voice sounded clearly through the
vast assemblage, and his words were so distinctly pronounced, they were like
words cut out of marble, whilst it was a pleasure to watch each movement of his
singularly beautiful mouth. The oration itself was magnificent. The following letter must be about this date
: —

To Rev. F, (now Dean) Farrar.

‘ My dear Sir, — I am so sorry
that we can never meet in peace and exchange views : letters and books are
cumbersome ways of mutual explanation, and I do not know how it is that I can
never bring myself to believe that people hold different views on matters
accessible to scientific treatment, unless for some reason or other they wish
to do so. When I read your books I can fully enter into all you mean, and yet I
do not feel the least disturbed in my own views. Our real differences refer to
facts, and these fortunately are amenable to scientific tests. In my lectures,
as you say quite rightly, I have not said half of what I meant to say, perhaps
what I ought to have said. It did not
seem to me the place for it. But I mean to give another lecture specially on
the Antiquity of Language, and then you, or at all events your friends, will be
surprised to see how little we differ, although we seem to be diametrically
opposed. I could have explained this to you in half an hour of conversation,
but I cannot do it by letter, and I shudder at controversy, and have had that
horror all my life.’

After three weeks in England for
examination work, Max

Miiller and his wife started for
Germany, leaving both of

their children behind. They
stopped at Bonn to see Baroness

Bunsen and Professor Bernays, but
Max Miiller was again

disappointed in making his
intimate friend acquainted with

his wife, as it was the time of
the Black Fast, the fall of

28o Visit to Potsdam [ch. xm

Jerusalem ; and Bernays could
not go anywhere, and only saw Max Muller for about an hour. After joining his
mother at Chemnitz, and taking her and his sister with them to Leipzig and Dessau,
the Max Miillers went on to Berlin to see Max’s friend Morier, and whilst there
were commanded to Potsdam to dine with the Crown Prince and Princess of
Prussia. Nothing could exceed the kindness with which they were received,
though the visit was shorter than had been intended by the royal hosts, as the
Crown Prince had been suddenly summoned to Gastein, where the King and Bismarck
were taking the waters. On arriving the guests were driven about the park till
the two o’clock dinner. It was intensely
hot weather, and the dinner was in the open air. Afterwards the royal children
were brought in by their English nurses : Princess Charlotte of Saxe-Meiningen,
the present Emperor, and Prince Henry, hardly a year old, to play round the
table, and talk to the English guests. The sight of this happy family life made
a deep impression on the visitors. A few days later the Crown Princess wrote,
through Countess Briihl, to say what pleasure it had been to receive the Max
Mullers in her own home. Things at that time were at an unhappy pass in
Prussia. Old Professor Bopp mentioned to Max Muller, as a mere on dit^
something about the Court which had appeared as a fact two months before in the
English Times, adding, ‘ It is impossible here to find out the truth ‘ ; and in
one of the confidential talks that Max had with his Paris friend von Schlotzer
when they were alone, for in public it was not safe to talk of politics, von
Schlotzer said, ‘ I would give anything to be English for a day, to know what
political freedom means.’

From Berlin, Max Muller and his
wife went by Nuremberg and Munich to Leoni on the Starnberger See, taking his
mother and his eldest niece with them. Here a delightfully quiet month was
passed in a comfortable pension close to the lovely lake, where they bathed and
rowed constantly, taking long walks in the beautiful country round. From the
higher ground behind the house they could see the snow- covered mountains to
the south of the lake. One scene deserves to be recalled. The Vocal Club
{Sanger- Verein)

1863] Venice 281

from Munich came out for the
day, and gave an open-air concert on the summit of a hill crowned with pine
woods that rose over the lake. It was a picturesque sight, the gay- banners,
the club members in their many-coloured scarves, and the groups of peasants in
their national costumes — the men in high hats, and their coats covered with
large silver buttons ; the women with their bright petticoats, and black
bodices with gold or silver embroidery, with chains and earrings of gold or
silver, and small black caps with em- broidery to match. The part-singing was
beautiful, the voices rich and melodious in themselves, and the expression and
light and shade carefully observed. Of course there was plenty of eating and
drinking, and at last dancing, but, though all seemed very free and easy, there
was no rudeness, nothing objectionable in the gathering.

From Leoni the mother and niece
returned to Chemnitz, the Max Mullers going across the Brenner to Italy. It was
their first taste of Italy, after which Max had, he tells us, hankered all his
life. Venice especially was like a dream realized, though the sight of the
Austrian soldiers every- where roused his indignation. It was found on visiting
the Doge’s Palace that many of the best pictures were being cleaned. One that
he particularly desired to see — Venezia irio7tfantc, by Paul Veronese — was
not to be seen, and he was lamenting it one day to the old Italian librarian, a
true patriot, who, when he found a kindred soul in Max Muller, not only in
books but in politics, had many a talk with him on the state of Venice. At his
last visit Max MUlIer said he looked forward to coming again to Italy, adding
significantly, ‘ And then I hope to see Venezia trionfante ! ‘ At their next
visit it was so, but the old librarian had passed away, though he lived long
enough to see his beloved city free from the hated foreigner. The travellers
returned by Turin and the Italian Lakes, the St. Gothard, where the first snows
had fallen, and which they crossed on foot, and rapidly through Switzerland to
England.

Max M tiller’s lectures began
as soon as he returned to Oxford, and he was as usual overwhelmed with letters
on all subjects.

282 Lectures in Edinburgh [ch.
xm

To Rev. G. Cox.

Oxford, November 4.

‘ I was not at Oxford when Dr.
Pusey preached his last sermon. I have
not read it, nor have I heard any remarks about it. But I can quite understand
the impression which it made on you.

‘ There are not a few points on
which Dr. Pusey’s ideas have become perfectly hardened : one cannot reason with
him about them, nor is he able himself to handle them. They have become fixed
ideas — they do not bend, but threaten to crack.

‘ With all that, I have a
strong personal regard for Dr. Pusey. He is a man of great learning and a vast
experience of life, in fact, one of the two or three interesting men at Oxford.
Besides that, he has always shown me great kindness, though he knows my
opinions, and though in University matters we have had fierce fights together.
In spite of that, and though we were hardly on speaking terms at the time of
the election for the Sanskrit Professorship, he offered me his help unasked, he
sat up day and night (in the literal meaning of the words) writing letters to
his friends — whereas my liberal friends, for whom I had worked hard on several
occasions, did hardly anything for me, and some of them, on whom I thought I
had claims, failed me altogether. Stanley and Pusey were my chief supporters,
and the only men who, I believe, felt for me when I failed to obtain that
position in which I might have been really useful, and might have been able to
finish the work of my life. However, I am not blind to the dangerous
consequences of Pusey’s teaching. I consider his alliance with the Low Church
as a most fatal mistake. But I look at all these things very much ab extra ; I
keep entirely aloof of University politics, and I look more and more to Germany
as my real home and the centre which attracts my interests. I shall stay in
England to finish the work which brought me here, but I look forward to
spending the last years of my life among my old friends in Germany.’

Max Mijller had been invited in
the spring to deliver two lectures at Edinburgh on ‘ Language.’ He accepted the
invitation to lecture, but begged that the lectures might be on ‘ The Origin of
Mythology.’ On November 9 he went to Edinburgh to deliver these two lectures at
the Philosophical Institution.

To HIS Wife.

Edinburgh, NovetJiber 10.

‘ One lecture safely over. I
had an immense audience ; the place

was as full as it could hold.
Whether people were pleased or not

1863] Lectures in Edinburgh 283

I don’t know; they applauded
and all that, but I think I aimed a little too high. There were all the
Professors and learned men, however, and they seemed pleased ; also Dr. John
Brown, a charming man, of whom I shall see more.’

November ii.

‘ How thankful we ought to be
every minute of our existence to Him who gives us all this richly to enjoy !
How little one has deserved this happy life, much less than many poor sufferers
to whom life is a burden and a hard and bitter trial. But then, how much
greater the claims on us ; how much more sacred the duty never to trifle, never
to waste time and power, never to compromise, but to live in all things, small
and great, to the praise and glory of God, to have God always present with us,
and to be ready to follow His voice, and His voice only. Has our prosperity
taught us to meet adversity when it €omes .? I often tremble, but then I commit
all to God, and I say, “ Have mercy upon me, miserable sinner ! “

அன்பு தளபதி · அன்பு தளபதி Fri Mar 11, 2011 1:45 pm

‘ Let us keep up our constant
fight against all that is small, and common, and selfish ; let us never lose
our faith in the ideal life, in what we ought to be, and in what, with constant
prayer to God, we shall be.

‘ My work here will soon be
over. We had a pleasant dinner to- night at Mr. INIuir’s. I had a drive in the
afternoon with Dr. John Brown, a most charming, excellent man, with whom you
would have been delighted. He is a good friend of Lady A. Bruce and of Stanley,
and he thinks they are worthy of each other. I shall be glad when my lecture
to-morrow is over. People are very civil and kind here. Prince Alfred sent me a
message to say how sorry he was he could not come to my lectures, but that every
one of his evenings had been engaged this week.’

The following description was
sent at the time to a con- nexion of Max Miiller’s wife in London : —

‘ I went on Friday night to
hear Max Miiller on “ The Origin of Mythology.” It was most interesting. I
never liked a lecture more. It required close attention, yet was quite clear
and intelligible. He seemed to open new worlds, dim, half-revealed, mysterious,
and this dimness gave a fascination — wide stretches of thought and conjecture
retreating into darkness yet to be explored, when the Veda, “ still with seven
seals upon it,” shall be adequately translated.
11 ‘ His inquiry into the origin of the name of the Supreme Being —

alike in Sanskrit, Greek,
Latin, and Teutonic — was intensely interesting, and his manner was so
reverential on these subjects.

‘ He looks quite young, and his
manner and voice were most pleasant. The hall was crowded.’

284 Mythology [ch. xm

To Rev. G. Cox.

Edinburgh, November 10.

‘ Mythology no doubt springs
from scattered tales, and to single tales it should be reduced before we
attempt to explain it. This is what I thought so particularly happy in your
books, that you should have told the tales singly, as they might have been told
by any grand- mother in any small village of Greece, long before the
encyclopaedic treatment of Greek fables began. I have been trying my hand at
something of the same kind in German, on the pattern of Grimm’s Aldrchcn, but I
have failed. The story of Oedipus has just been dissected by M. Michel Br^al
very cleverly, though I doubt whether people will be convinced by it.

‘ “ Always the Sun, and always
the Sun,” people exclaim, and yet it is not our fault if the Sun has inspired
so many legends and received so many names. And what else do you expect at the
bottom of mythology, if not the reflection of heaven and earth in the mind and
language of man ? ‘

To THE Same.

Oxford, November 29.

‘ . . . I cannot bring myself
to enter into or to adopt Kuhn’s theory of clouds and thunderstorms being at
the bottom of all Aryan mytho- logy, a view which I see has just been strongly
advocated by Mr. Kelle in his Indo-European Traditions. He gives a most
incomplete representation of Kuhn’s labours. I should have thought that Grote
had entirely dispelled the belief that there was any historical substratum in
the legends of Troy, or at least any more than in the legends of Charlemagne
taking Jerusalem, &c.’

To HIS Mother.

Translation. Oxford, November 28.

‘ I must just tell you we are
very well, though we get no rest. Last week a visit from Princess Helena and
Princess Louise, to whom I had to show everything ; last Wednesday a ball at
the Duke of Marlborough’s, where G. and I danced in the beautiful library ; and
to-day a visit from the Crown Prince and Princess of Prussia. They were with
Dr. Stanley, and we went there for luncheon, and have been walking about with
them till now. To-night a dinner, where we are to meet the Due d’Aumale and
Lord Lawrence, the Viceroy of India.
Then next week I am ordered to Windsor
to the Queen, then my lectures here — in fact, my head is in a whirl, and I am
longing for rest. I am happiest when quiet with my children, who are darlings
and thrive so well.’

1863] First Visit to Windsor 285

Just before this letter to his
mother, Max Miiller was graciously commanded to Windsor for the first time. A day- was named
for him to go to luncheon : ‘ The Queen is anxious to see him,’ and it was
considerately added, ‘if the day men- tioned is not convenient to him another
can be named.’

To HIS Mother.

Translation. Oxford, December ii.

·
I was with the Queen for three-quarters of an
hour, quite alone.

Her Majesty received me in
Prince Albert’s room, and said she had long wished to see me, and hoped it
would not be the last time, and then she talked in the most brilliant and
interesting way, and spoke German better than I do. The Queen asked me to tell
her about my work, spoke a good deal about Bunsen, about Prince Albert, about
Schleswig-Holstein, and I could often hardly believe it was the Queen of
England talking to me ! The Crown Princess was not at Windsor, but sent for me
on Tuesday, and we talked for an hour and a half. She too was most charming. The Princess soon
returns to Berlin, which cannot be a pleasant place to her at present. She is a
very remarkable woman, very liberal, and full of enthusiasm for Germany.’

To Rev. G. Cox.

Oxford, December 10.

‘ The Basque is a most
interesting language to study as the type of an agglutinative form of speech,
but though it agrees in form most strikingly with the Turanian language, the
Finnic more particularly, no one has yet discovered any similarity between the
natural elements of the Basque and any other language. How far the Basque was
spoken in former days has been shown by Humboldt in his Essay on the Original
Inhabitants of Spain, before him by Hernas. Michel’s derivations of Basque
words are copied from earlier writers , mostly theologians, who, in a language
such as the Basque, easily found all that they looked for. They are worth nothing,
li year was called inundation, this is no more than if we call year either
spring, or autumn, or winter. But the Basque is a language which, in the hands
of an unscrupulous philologist, will be made to say anything.’

On December 21 Max Miiller
writes to his mother: ‘I am very much excited, for I have been commanded to
Osborne to give some lectures before the Queen and the Princesses. The days are not fixed, but probably early in
January.’

Christmas was spent at Ray
Lodge, and then Max Miiller went back alone to Oxford to prepare the royal
lectures.

286 Lectures for Osborne

To HIS Wife.

Oxford, December 28.

·
Here I am at work, and getting on very well, I
hope. I dine with Stanley to-night, to hear from him and Lady Augusta what to
observe and what to avoid at Osborne. I am sorry to be away from you, but I
feel I ought to do my very best, and I can write better when I am here alone
and have all my books.’

To his mother he writes,
December 30 :’ I go to Osborne on the third and stay till the sixth, so you can
think of me.’

I

*

I

CHAPTER XIV

1 864-1 865

Lectures at Osborne.
Schleswig-Holstein war. Birth of third child.

Member of Royal Irish Academy.
Weymouth. Visit of his mother. Lecture
at Leeds. Member of Turin Academy. Last visit to Ray Lodge. Sub-Librarianship
of Bodleian.

·
Professor Max Muller had the honour of
delivering two lectures last week at Osborne before Her Majesty and the Royal
Family, on the Science of Language.’ Such was the announcement in the Court
Circular, and the following letters give the details of this interesting visit
: —

To HIS Wife.

Osborne, ya««i2ry 5.

‘ I arrived here all safe. I
met the Queen’s messenger at South- ampton, and we went to Osborne in the
Elfin, which had brought Prince Alfred over. The crossing took more than an
hour, but I did not feel uncomfortable. I sat in the cabin with Prince
Leiningen, who commands the vessel, and we had a pleasant chat together in
German. I was very tired when I arrived here, and full of cold and headache, so
I laid down in my own room, which was warm and cosy, and slept till
dinner-time. I dined with the household at eight.

I sat between Lady Churchill and
Mrs. Ponsonby. All was very

pleasant. Sir James Clarke was
there, Mr. Ponsonby, Sir Thomas

Biddulph, and some more ladies.
After dinner we went to the ladies’

drawing-room, where a message
arrived from the Queen, who wished

to see me. So I was conducted
into the royal portion of the palace,

and in a small boudoir there were
the Queen, Princess Hohenlohe,

and Princess Helena : afterwards
Mrs. Bruce came in. I did my best

to talk sense, but oh! my poor
head. The Queen was very kind,

and thanked me for coming, and
said she was looking forward very

much to my lectures. The
conversation was in German, and you

cannot imagine the dignity and
graciousness of the Queen when she

spoke with great composure of
Prince Albert ; and the reports spread

abroad about her state of health
are absolutely absurd. After about

twenty minutes the Queen bowed,
and I went straight to bed. I feel

much better to-day, and hope to
get through my lecture without

288 Osborne [ch.

XIV

disgrace. I received a message
that Princess Helena wished to walk with me in the afternoon. Then at six there
is to be the lecture, diagrams and all. Prince Arthur will be there ; he was
kept a day longer on purpose. The palace is full of beautiful works of art, but
I have hardly had time to look at them yet.’

January 6.

‘ I\Iy first lecture is over,
and from all I can hear it has not been a failure. Yesterday in the afternoon I
had a very pleasant walk with Princess Helena and Mrs. Bruce. Princess Helena
showed me their private museum, which they keep in a Swiss cottage, full of
curious things which have been given them, or which the Princes have collected
in their foreign travels. There were the Queen’s former playthings, and a
kitchen where the Princesses cook and bake, and kitchen gardens, one for each
of them, and the Princess Royal every year gets her green peas from her own
plot sent to Berlin, and enjoys them greatly.

Everything is full of
recollections of the Prince, and they all talk

about him as if he were still
among them. This is thoroughly

German, and it always struck me
in England how carefully all con-

versation on those who have gone
before us is avoided, and how much

of comfort and good influence
derived from the memory of those we

loved is thereby lost. After we
came home from our walk, I had just

time to prepare for my lecture,
and to get my diagrams mounted. At

six all the people assembled in
the Council Chamber, and after a time

came the Queen and the
Princesses. The Queen had not attended a

lecture for more than ten years,
and everybody was surprised at her

appearing. She listened very
attentively, and did not knit at all,

though her work was brought.
After the lecture the Queen conversed

·
with me for a long time, asking many shrewd
questions, as did her sister. Princess Hohenlohe. It was then time to dress for
dinner, and then to bed. This morning I had an interview with Princess
Beatrice, who however was a little shy at first, but became after a time very
amusing. She talks English, French, and German.’

January 6, ii p.m.

‘ Just to finish the account of
my visit here, I must tell you that after I had sent my letter to you to-day,
the Queen sent for me again to her drawing-room, and brought Princess Beatrice
with her to make her read to me in German, English, and French. She did it
remarkably well, and the Queen talked to me a good deal about education, and how
she taught her children. Afterwards Princess Helena showed me all the family
pictures by VVinterhalter, and the splendid statues.

The Princess, when you know
her, reminds you much of the Princess

Royal. We walked about for a
long time discussing all sorts of

1864] Osborne 289

things. I had then to prepare
for my lecture, to which the Queen came again, but without any work at all. In
the evening Lord Granville arrived, and the Queen was very busy. She sent me
word she hoped to see me, but afterwards sent to say it was getting too late,
and that she w^as sorry she could not have seen me, and thanked me again. In
the evening I had a long talk with Lord Granville, and to- morrow morning I
hope to start at 9.30 with Prince Arthur and Sir James Clarke.’

These are the concluding words
of the last lecture : —

·
When the two last volumes of the Veda are
published we shall have saved from destruction a work older than the Iliad,
older than any other literary document of that noble race of mankind to which
the greatest nations in the world’s history have belonged — a race which after
receiving from a Semitic race, from the Jews, its best treasure, its religion,
the religion of the Old and New Testaments, is now, with the English in the
van, carrying on slowly but irresistibly the conquest of the world by means of
commerce, colonization, educa- tion, and conversion.’

On Max M tiller’s return, he
heard from Sir Charles Phipps how pleased the Queen had been with the lectures
— ‘ of that you must be fully aware ‘ — and Sir Charles added how much he had
himself valued the information and instruction com- municated, whilst three
days later Lady Augusta Stanley forwarded the following extract from a letter
from Princess Helena, now Princess Christian of Schleswig-Holstein. Gracious permission has been given to insert
it.

‘ We have had two most
interesting and charming lectures from Professor Max Miiller. I cannot tell you
how much I enjoyed them and value them. Do tell him so when you see him again,
and how much I regret not being able to hear any more. I wish there was a
possibility of my hearing more at some future time ; I hope so — and Mama has
not said No ! You cannot think how pleasant it was for me to be able to talk to
a clever man like Professor M. and one who does not inspire me with fear, as
some very learned people do. The subject
he treats is one which always interested me so much.

Ever with much love, your
affectionate friend, * Helena.’

To Rev. G. Cox.

Ox^OKT), Jatmary 22.

‘. . . When the Rishis first
perceived the necessity of one Superior

Power is difficult to say. It
breaks through here and there, but

I U

290 Persian Influences in the
Bible [ch. xiv

their religion does not become
monotheistic, for this involves the denial of polytheism. It always remains
henotheistic, if one may coin such a word. I mean the one single god addressed
at the time shares in all the qualities of a supreme being, but soon after
another god is addressed equally supreme, and their logic does not in the least
revolt at this. The Etruscan names of Greek deities have about the same value
as the English names of the Indian deities. I mean they are mere corruptions,
pardy owing to ignorance, partly to the imper- fections of the Etruscan
alphabet, which possessed no media, and despised vowels almost as much as the
Semitic languages.’

To THE Same.

January 26.

‘ . . . Much as I admire M.
Brdal’s essay on Cacus, I do not the least feel convinced by his explanation of
the dualism between Ormuzd and Ahriman, nor by his theory of Persian influences
to be discovered in the early portions of the Bible. I am as far from
prejudices on this point as M. Brdal, who is a Jew, and who, like most educated
Jews, looks upon the books of the Old Testament as much more than inspired —
taking inspired in the modern sense of that word — namely, as real, old,
historical documents. I should value any such traces of influences received
from neighbouring nations by the writers of the Old Testament most highly ; but
such is the importance from an historical point of view that I shall not feel
inclined to build any con- clusions on such vague evidence as that brought
together by M. Brdal. . . . Any such
word as Asdossodeus, if it could be discovered in the early books, would be
invaluable, but though I do not give up all hope of such discoveries hereafter,
I am bound to say that as yet I cannot see them.’

To THE Same.

February 16.

‘ I am afraid I have hardly
done justice to your book in my review.
The fact is, I was overwhelmed with work, and, after a short intro-
duction, I put in a portion of my lectures which I am preparing for the Press.
However, I find that my article has at least startled several people who have a
tender feehng for Helen and Troy, and I hope they will take to your book and
try to get some more information. I may
be wrong in my explanation of the relation between Helen and Paris, Sarama and
Pam, but I cannot help thinking that Helena and Sarama are the same word.’

The following letter refers first
to Mr. Gifford Palgrave,

the Arabian traveller, who had
just returned from his daring

expedition, and then to the
Schleswig-Holstein question,

1864] Schleswig-Holstetn 291

which occupied so much of Max
Miiller’s attention during the early part of this year.

To HIS Wife.

February 17.

·
After luncheon I went to see the Jesuit, and had
a very interesting talk with him about a thousand subjects. I found him clever,
well- informed, and devoted to his work ; quite unanglicized, however, in all
his views, and strangely torn away from all the fibres of his native soil. It
is a pleasant contrast to the self-seeking, money-making, place- hunting
tendencies, to see a man without any ambition as far as this life is concerned,
but evidently full of ambition for another life. I enclose a letter from Delane
; so you see I am in for it. I am all in large print, to offer a larger target
to the arrows of the enemy.’

Max MUller, both in letters to
the Times and to friends in England and abroad, upheld the independence of the
Duchies :

‘ They are sovereign and
independent states, and are indis- solubly united.’ He advocated the claims of
the house of Augustenburg, and reprobated the high-handed policy of Bismarck,
as much as the pretensions of Denmark. In later years he saw that Bismarck’s
policy with regard to the Duchies was the first link in the chain that led to
the unity of Germany. The feeling in England was very strong. Denmark was weak,
Prussia and Austria strong ; therefore Denmark must be upheld — people
forgetting that the Duchies, whose rights were at stake, were still weaker. Max
Miiller was openly attacked in the papers, and received anonymous letters from
Danes in England that were too vile to show to any one ; in some his life even
was threatened. One old friend assumed in the AthencEiini that he was the
author of a pamphlet, The Dano-German Conflict and Lord RiisseWs Proposals of
Mediation, calling it ‘an ingenious mystifica- tion, the author of which wishes
to be supposed to be an Englishman.’ The author was an Englishman connected with
the Government, and therefore could not give his name. Max Mijller always signed his letters, and
never masked as an Englishman.

To HIS Mother.

Translation. March 4.

‘You will have gathered from
the papers that I am quite well.

I had lately to tell the
English something of the truth, and though

U 2

292 Schleswig-Holstein ch. xiv

they don’t like to hear it, yet
they have taken it well. The common papers abuse me, but they are of little
weight, and the leading ones behave civilly, though they answer with the most
absurd nonsense. All this takes up my
time, that is the worst, and disturbs my work ; but one must do one’s duty, and
now that I am known in England, it fell to my lot to take up the cudgels for the
truth on the German side. The affair is
still very complicated. Russia, Austria, and Prussia hang together, but with
bad intentions. Everything now depends on France, and the Emperor will sell
himself to the highest bidder — either to England or Russia. England has
plunged deeply, and will hardly come out with a whole skin. Palmerston would
like war, but the people, at least in manufacturing towns and the north, are
against it. The King of the Belgians
arrived to-day.’

To THE Same.

Contemporary Letter, March 4.

‘ M. has talked of writing to
you for some days, as he was afraid you would share the fears of the German
papers, which seem to think he must be in prison, or very near it, for his
letters to the Times. Happily, here any
one may speak out his mind freely without fear of any bad consequences. Such
certainly is not the case in Berlin now, as we hear from Morier that Herr von
Schlotzer has been sent off to Rome for having expressed his feelings against
Bismarck too freely. The newspapers are
all very angry with M., which proves that they feel the truth of what he says ;
but every newspaper almost is ultra- Danish, except the local papers of
Liverpool and Manchester, and other great places of trade, where the merchants
are German in feel- ing, and entirely opposed to any idea of war. The Queen’s
life is no easy one at present. Her own feehngs entirely German, and her
Ministers and people as entirely Danish. She must be happy just now at having
old King Leopold with her, as she leans so much on him.’

Max MUller’s lectures this term
were on * The Origin of Fables,’ and were largely attended.

To HIS Wife.

Oxford, March 30.

‘ I had a visit to-day from the
Schleswig-Holstein architect — a very nice fellow. He came to England on
business : is building a grand mansion somewhere near York. He told me many
things about the war, &c. He is a man of forty-five, with wife and
children, in very good business. He has enrolled himself to fight as soon as
the Prussians and Austrians are gone. All his friends, he says, have done the
same, and are ready to die rather than submit to the Danes again.

1864] Death of the Old Aunt 293

I had a visit from , who
brought me all sorts of messages from

Princess Hohenlohe. However, I
told him nothing could be done at present. I also received an address and vote of
thanks from Bremen, largely signed.’

Early in April Max Miiller
heard of the death of his mother’s old aunt, Frau Klausnitzer, mother of
Emilie, Baroness Stolzenberg. He writes : —

To HIS IMoTHER.

Translation. April 5.

‘ The news of the death of the
dear old aunt has affected me very much. She had indeed enjoyed the full
measure of human life, and in her old age had a large measure of happiness ;
but when the moment of parting comes — come as it may — it comes always too
soon. I have only had the printed notice, and know nothing of how it was. In
your last letter you said she was so well and bright, and then I always
thought, “ Well, whilst the old aunt is so well and strong my mother has a good
spell of life still before her.” One only fancies the generations must follow
each other, till the turn comes for ourselves. Well, for those who have had
such a happy old age, and remained strong in mind and body to the last, those
who are left can only thank God, and pray for a like end for themselves and for
all they love. We accustom ourselves so easily to life as a second nature, and
in spite of the graves around us, death remains something unnatural, hard and
terrifying. That should not be. An early death is terrifying, but as we grow
older our thoughts should accustom themselves to passing away at the end of a
long life’s journey. All is so beautiful, so good, so wisely ordered, that even
death can be nothing hard, nothing dis- turbing ; it all belongs to a great
plan, which we do not understand, but of which we know that it is wiser than
all wisdom, better than all good, that it cannot be otherwise, cannot be
better. In faith we can live, and we can die — can even see those go before us,
who came before us, and whom we must follow. All is not according to our will,
to our wisdom, but according to a heavenly Will, and those who have once found
each other through God’s hand will, clinging to His hand, find each other
again. Let me soon hear how you are, and submit to God’s Will quietly and with
resignation.’

All these early months Max
Miiller vv^as preparing his second volume of Lectures on Language for the
Press, which had been delayed by his visit to Germany the previous year.

294 Comparative Mythology [ch.
xiv

Before, however, they were
ready, a fourth edition of the first volume came out, of 1,250 copies like the
others. He also wrote a much-admired article on * The Language and Poetry of
Schleswig-Holstein,’ with some good translations of Klaus Groth’s *
Platt-Deutsch Poems.’ This was reprinted in Chips, first edition. Volume III.

To Rev. G. Cox.

Oxford, April 1 1 .

·
If the old generation is uncritically sceptical,
the young generation is uncritically credulous. Now the young generation, the
rising scholars, to a man, swear in Comparative Philology and Mythology, and
the future is theirs, I am afraid as we get older we shall be equally unwilling
to change our views and examine our evidence.
I hope in that case we may abstain and stand by in silence ; but though I
hope it, I am not quite certain on that point. Surely, Comparative Mythology is
not self-evident ; if it were, where would be the pleasure of having dug up
some of these old bones ? People who make new discoveries ought not to be angry
with the world for not accepting them at once ! To me, I confess, though it may
sound very conceited, there is a pleasure in living in a small University. I am
old enough to remember the incredulous wagging of heads when Bopp declared that
the infinitive was the dative or some other case of an abstract noun : there is
hardly a grammar now where you do not find this. Even now, if you tell people
that two only of the ten numerals in Greek and Sanskrit are oxytone, and that
this is not by accident, they think you are talking nonsense. Fifty years hence
a boy will be plucked who does not know it. Now you know I am myself a great
unbeliever in many mythological parallelisms, and I am quite prepared to admit
that many of my own comparisons will be knocked over. It is sad that it should
be so, but so it is ! even old Bopp’s Comparative Grammar is by this time
riddled with shot and crumbling down, but something better has been put in its
place. But that the principles I have laid down for the study of Comparative
Mythology are sound I am prepared to prove against the world.’

To HIS Wife.

Oxford, June 17.

‘ Our garden looks so well, and I
jump out of window and look at

my roses, and then go back to my
work. There is to me a beauty

and mystery and sanctity about
flowers, and when I see them come

and go, no one knows whence and
whither, I ask, What more miracles

do we want ? What better, more
beautiful, more orderly world could

1864] Almsgiving ‘ 295

we wish to belong to than that
by which we are surrounded and supported on all sides ? Where is there a flaw
or a fault ? Then why should we fear unless the flaws are within us, and we
will not see the blessing and the rest which we might enjoy if we only trusted
to the Author of all that beauty, order, and wisdom about us ? It is a perfect
sin not to be happy in this world, and how much of the misery which there is,
is the work of men, or could be removed by men, if they would but work together
for each other’s good. It seems so hopeless to do any good on so small a scale
as ours must necessarily be ; yet I do not think we do enough, not in
proportion to what is given us without any desert.’

Max Miiller had very strong
feelings about the duty of almsgiving, and considered a tenth of all he had the
least that should be given away annually. In most years he far exceeded this
sum, and even his wife never knew the constant help he gave to poor young
students and literary men, both German and English. To his mother and sister he
was most generous. He had been a great smoker before his marriage, and indulged
in the best cigars, but he gave up smoking entirely when he had the expenses of
a household to provide for, that his charity purse, as he called it, might not
suffer ; and it was only in the last twenty years of his life that he took to
smoking again, and then only cigarettes, and very few of them each day.

As soon as his book was
printed, Max Miiller joined his wife and children at Ray Lodge, and on June 22
he writes to his mother that he was expecting the publication of his second
volume of Lectures, and did not trouble himself as to its reception. ‘ One does
one’s best, and one says what one feels is right, and the rest one lets alone.
I am not at all sorry that I have spoken out to the English, and if they abuse
me, it shows they are ashamed.’ And his wife wrote also : ‘ Max is enjoying his
holiday here, for the lectures being off his hands he is giving himself perfect
rest and doing nothing but lie in the hayfields or the garden, enjoying the
flowers.’

On August I Max MuUer’s third
child, a third daughter, was born. In writing to ask his valued friend Dean
Stanley to be godfather, he says : —

296 Birth of Third Child [ch.
xiv

To Dean Stanley.

August 2.

‘ I always hoped to have you as
godfather to my first son, if there should be one. As it seems, however, that
there is to be no litde Max, I shall wait no longer. I have no doubt that your
family of godchildren is a very large one, but as I think you may trust G. and
myself that we shall try to bring up our children in the real faith and true
discipline of Christ, I hope you will be able to accede to our request, and add
this one to many other proofs of real friendship which you have given to both
of us. Have you seen Bunsen’s Leben Jesu ? I read it, and wrote to Madame
Bunsen asking her to have it pubhshed, and translated into English, possibly
into French also. I like it, and I think
just now it will do good. It contains the soul, which is wanting in Renan’s
ghost, or rather in his corpse, of Christ.
It gives all that is essential in the outward life of Christ, and then
throws the burden of believing or disbelieving the divinity of Christ on every
one of us, as it was thrown on those who witnessed His real life, who had to
break with a religion dear and sacred to themselves, and whose senses and
reason must have had to pass through a much more severe struggle than we have
to pass through, before they yielded to the voice within, that Christ was the
Son of God. I do not know whether you would consider it wise to have your name
in any way connected with a translation of Bunsen’s work, but I hope it will
not be brought out with any appearance of coming from a hostile camp. It should come as a message of peace — as a
minimum, a very small minimum, if you like — but with a large margin on every
side, which need not remain a blank.’

In writing to tell his mother
of the birth of her new grandchild, Max mentions at the end of his letter that
1,000 copies of his Lectures had been sold the first day.

To Rev. G. Cox.

Oxford, August 5, 1864.

‘ My dear Sir, — . . . As to
annihilation, all I mean is that it is a word without any conceivable meaning,
and that it might do some people good to see this clearly. We are — that is
enough. What we are does not depend on us ; what we shall be, neither. We may
conceive the idea of change in form, but not of cessation or destruction of
substance.

No doubt people mean frequently
by annihilation the loss of conscious

personality, as distinct from
material annihilation. On that point

I said nothing, because it would
have led me too far out of my own

sphere. However, what I feel
about it is shortly this. If there is any-

1864] Weymouth — Mother’s
Visit. 297

thing
real and substantial in our conscious personality, then whatever there is real
and substantial in it cannot cease to exist. If on the contrary we mean by
conscious personality something that is the

அன்பு தளபதி · அன்பு தளபதி Fri Mar 11, 2011 1:46 pm

result of accidental
circumstances, then, no doubt, we must face the idea of such a personality
ceasing to be what it now is. I believe, however, that the true source and
essence of our personality lies in what is the most real of all real things,
and in so far as it is true, it cannot be destroyed. There is a distinction
between conscious personality and personal consciousness. A child has personal
consciousness ; a man who is this or that, a Napoleon or a Talleyrand, has
conscious personality. INIuch of that conscious personality is merely temporary
and passes away; but the personal consciousness remains. I do not think that
Schleiermacher could have said that the last enemy that would be destroyed in
us is the idea of our immortality. What he may have said is, our idea of
immortality. I should like to see this subject fully and freely discussed. It
is no doubt the old controversy between Nominalism and Realism under a new
form. We know what stuff words are made of, and it strikes me that those who
know the antecedents of words are spared many troubles and difficulties in
religious and philosophical struggles.’

The middle of September the
whole family party went for change to Weymouth, where they were joined by Max
Muller’s mother, who returned with them to Oxford and stayed on with them the
whole winter.

Politics crop up again towards
the close of the year, as

the follov/ing letter to Morier,
Secretary of Legation at Berlin,

shows. Morier shared all Max
MUller’s feelings as to the

Duchies : —

Oxford, Novetnher lo.

‘ INIy dear Morier, — For the
sake of decency, if not from a feeling

of personal friendship, I trust
the Duchies will soon be handed over

to Duke Frederick. If Prussia attempts
to swallow the small morsel

by itself it will stick in her
throat. Hereafter it will go down together

with others at one good gulp. I
was so sorry not to see you again

before you returned to Berlin ;
we went to Weymouth during Sep-

tember and October ; my mother
came to me there, and is now staying

with us. We are all well, thank
God, and if it were not for the dinner-

pardes this quiet life would be
very pleasant. But I am afraid the

dinner-parties will drive me
sooner or later away from this country to

the less hospitable shores of the
Spree or Danube. Jowett’s salary

has again been defeated, this
time in Council ; it shows how low

human nature can sink. It is
perfectly disgusting, and I feel ashamed

298 German Christmas in Oxford
[ch. xiv

to accept any salary from such
a body of men. The matter, however, is not to rest, and a new motion has at
once been made. Is there not some great mischief brewing in all these meetings
of crowned heads and Ministers ? And are you quite certain that there is no
mischief hatching as against England ? Though John Bull does make a fool of
himself now and then, the world would soon go to wrack and ruin without him.
Crowned brains are just now very active, and I am sure they all consider
England a bull in a china shop. There are certain fellows now very cock-a-hoop,
and capable of anything in the way of spite and mischief. Yours ever
affectionately.’

Christmas vi^as spent in Oxford
for the first time since i860, and was a regular German Christmas, with a tree
for the children, and German Stolle (cake) and German dishes. Max Mliller, who had not spent Christmas with
his mother since 1 849, was as happy, and entered into everything with the same
zest, as one of his own children. It was never difficult to give him pleasure,
for his hard early training made of every little trifle a source of enjoyment
and a cause of thankfulness to the Giver of all Good.

Early in 1865 the Max MUllers
received the sad news that the family home at Ray Lodge was to be given up and the
party there dispersed. The long lease had nearly run out, and the owner would
only sell, not let again. Max Muller’s father-in-law resolved to settle in
London near his younger daughter, and the sister who had lived with him over
forty years, bringing up his children, preferred the country, as did Max
Muller’s brother-in-law, who had hitherto, with his wife and child, lived at
Ray Lodge. To the Max MuUers and Walronds it was a great loss ; living, as they
did, in a town, the country life was a boon to their children, and only a large
country house had room for them all to meet together. It was at once resolved
to spend as long a time as possible during the summer in the old home.

To Lady Augusta Stanley.

64, High Street, Oxford, February
7, 1865.

·
Dear Lady Augusta, — Many thanks for the
Theology of the Nine- teenth Century — and, I hope, of many more centuries to
come — which I believe I owe to your kindness. I read it with intense pleasure
; it was almost like having a talk with the Dean, or listening to one of his

1865] Lectures at Leeds 299

sermons. I do not know the
exact date of the Book of Daniel, and this, I am afraid, would be considered
heresy by many of the Presi- dents and Princes ; but of this I am certain, that
in any century, even in our own, the lions cannot hurt a man who, like Daniel,
is a servant of the living God. I hope you and the Dean are quite well. We have
been living our quiet and happy life at Oxford. My mother has been with us the
whole winter, and the children are well. With herzb’che Griisse to the Dean,
yours sincerely, ‘ Max Muller.’

The following letter touches on
the curious legend of the Barnacle Goose, fully detailed in the second volume
of Max Mialler’s Lechircs on Language, which had excited a good deal of attention
not only in England, but on the Continent : —

To Professor Benfey.

Translation. 64, High Street,
February 26.

‘Dear Colleague, — . . . I have
read the little notice on fishes and birds in Occident und Orietit. As it is a
later addition, it would be most remarkable if the fable had really got into
the Eastern fables from the West of Europe. The occurrence of the same legend
in different places allows of various explanations, but especially through the
passage in Genesis i. 20, to which the priests have often referred, in order to
prove that all fowl are of common origin with fishes, and therefore may be
eaten on fast-days.

‘ These commoner legends do not
therefore belong to the “ myth “ treated by me, which does not refer to birds
in general, but only to the goose which goes by the special name of Barnacle
Goose. This name can be explained, and can be connected with the name barnacle-
shell.’

Early in March Max Miiller went
to Leeds to deliver

a lecture on ‘ The Vedas, or
the Ancient Sacred Books of the

Brahmans.’

To HIS Wife.

Leeds, March 6.

·
So you see I found my way after all. L was a
wretched day till we got beyond Rugby, and then the sun came out, and the
country looked warm and bright. It is quite spring here, and I hope the change
will do me good. I found Mr. Hincks waiting for me ; he is a clergyman, though
I do not know of what denomination yet. He has a nice house, and a wife and two
daughters. We had a quiet dinner, and in the evening the intellect of Leeds
will assemble here.’

March 7,

·
We had a very pleasant party last night, chiefly
clergy and medical

300 Leeds [ch. xiv

men. The Vicar of Leeds, Dr.
Otley, came, though my host is the Unitarian minister of Leeds. I was a little
tired, having to talk a great deal. We had a sumptuous supper, and then to bed.
This morning we started after breakfast to see the town. Very fine Town-hall,
with a statue of the Queen by Noble. Then we explored a wool manu- factory,
with some beautiful machinery, seeing the whole process from the sheep to the
shawls. Then the poor parts of the town, and the Working Men’s Club — all very
curious, and the weather fine. We dined at three, and in the evening the
lecture is to come off. Well, I must do my best. The people are all very civil,
but I shall be glad when it is over. Love to mother, and give her this wool,
which I saw made.’

The Philosophical Hall at Leeds
was packed with a most attentive audience, which included many clergy of the
Church of England, and ministers of all the leading nonconformist bodies, for
the friendly relations between the Church and Dissent at Leeds, so marked in
the days of Dean Hook, still continued in full force. The lecturer concluded by
deducing three lessons to be learned from the careful study of the Vcdas and
other Sacred Books of the East. Firstly, that ‘ most religions were in their
most ancient form, or in the minds of their authors, free from many of the
blemishes that attach to them in later times. Secondly, that there was hardly
any religion which did not contain some truth, sufficient to enable those who
sought the Lord to find Him in their hour of need. Thirdly, that we learnt to
appreciate better than ever what we really have in our own religion. No one who
had not examined patiently and honestly the other religions of the world could
know what Christianity really was, or could join with such truth and sincerity
in the words of St. Paul, “I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ.”’ The
concluding words were quoted thirty-five years later in the sermon preached in
Max Miiller’s parish church the Sunday after his death.

Soon after his return from
Leeds, Max Miiller’s mother, who had been with him since September, returned to
Germany.

With all her devotion to her son,
the quiet, regular life in

his house soon wearied her,
accustomed as she had been

from her earliest days to be
actively busy in household

affairs ; and her deafness
prevented her from sharing in the

1865] Foreign Member of Turin
Academy 301

pleasures of society,
especially in a foreign country. In summer, when she could be more in the open
air and enjoy the beautiful College gardens, she was happier, but the long
winter visits were never a success. To her son, the mere feeling that his
mother was under his roof was happiness; but she required more variety and
amusement than a scholar’s house could give her, and it was impossible not to
see that she longed for her German home, though she suffered severely when the
moment of parting came.

The following letter shows that
Max MuUer was still occupied with the Schleswig-Holstein question. Mr.
Gladstone was at this time Chancellor of the Exchequer : —

To THE Right Hon. W. E.
Gladstone.

High Street, April 2.

·
Dear Sir, — I hope to be in London the whole of
next week, and should like very much to see you. You will easily guess the
subject on which I should wish to speak to you. I have felt throughout that if
there is a statesman in England who will form his opinion on the
Schleswig-Holstein question, not according to what seems expedient, but
according to what is just and right, it is you. There may be reasons however
why you might decline to speak to me on that question, but even in that case I
hope you will pardon my request.’

This spring Max Mliller, who
had been elected a Corre- spondent of the Turin Academy in 1859, was chosen as
one of the six Foreign Members of that distinguished society, his colleagues
being Cousin, Thiers, Bockh, Mommsen, and Grote.

Before leaving home for the
summer. Max Mliller found time to write to his old friend Bishop Patteson, in
answer to his letter of the year before : —

64, High Street, Oxford, April
i6, 1865.

‘ My dear Bishop, — I am so
thoroughly ashamed of myself that

I was afraid I should never have
courage enough to write to you. It

has been a weight on my
conscience for years, and I doubt whether

I shall be able to give you any
intelligible reason why I put off writing

to you from month to month, and
from year to year, till at last I gave

it up for very shame. However,
the simple truth is this. I have been

very busy, and I always hoped I
should find time sooner or later to

devote special attention to the
IMelanesian languages, I wished to do

so first, and before I troubled
you with any inquiries; and then,

302 Bishop of Melanesia [ch.
xiv

whenever I began to get ready
for the work, I felt that I had other work to do, more necessary, and which my
friends expected me to do, and that I must not attempt any new subject before
having finished what I had in hand. This is the only intelligible account I can
give you of my protracted silence, and now that I have done so, I can only ask
that you will forgive me, though I can hardly forgive myself. My thoughts, I
can truly tell you, have often been with you and your work. Many times I have envied you your choice of a
life’s work about which, if once chosen, there can be no doubt that it is
right, useful, and pleasing in the sight of God and of men. When I first heard
of your departure, I confess I was surprised. I believe I had seen you last at
Dresden, revelling in ancient Italian art, and studying Hebrew or Arabic. I
thought of you, as I thought of Thomson, as a future Bishop in the midst of the
refined society of London, and when I received your first letter, dated
somewhere latitude and longitude, I felt for a moment that you had made a
mistake, and that the Church at home could ill afford to send men of your stamp
as missionaries to mere savages. I do not think so now, and if I compare your
lot with that of Thomson, now Archbishop of York, I feel that yours is the higher
and the happier of the two.’

Oxford, May 14.

‘ I had the pleasure of seeing
Mr. Codrington, who told me many

things about you and your work,
full of interest. How different life

must seem to you from what it is
to us ! Everything so clear before

you, nothing to cause you any
misgivings, work to be done which

must be done, a great work
without any of the littlenesses which hang

about our life in English
society. I cannot bring myself to take much

interest in all the controversies
that are going on in the Church of

England, and which to a great
extent centre in Oxford. No doubt

the points at issue are great,
and appeal to our hearts and minds, but

the spirit in which they are
treated seems to me so very small. How

few men on either side give you
the impression that they write face to

face with God, and not face to
face with men and the small powers

that be. Surely this was not so
in the early centuries, nor again at

the time of the Reformation ? I
have great regard for Stanley, because

I know him personally, and know
him to be strictly honest to himself,

and capable of sacrificing many
things he holds most dear for the

sake of truth. He takes a warm
interest in your work too. I suppose

you received some years ago two
contributions, one from Stanley, the

other from Thomson (Archbishop),
which they gave me to forward to

you. Stanley was most anxious to
send more, but knowing how he

spends his money, I would not
take more than £10. I still have great

faith in the Archbishop of York.
Unfortunately his elevation has been

1865] Melanesian Dialects 303

very sudden, and there are many
who envy him and watch him : that makes him timid, and he hardly dares to be
himself. But I feel certain he is averse to persecution, and ready to make
every possible allowance for difference of opinion among those who seek
honestly for what is true and right. If I may judge as a mere spectator, the
danger of the Church lies at present in narrow-minded clamour and partisanship.

Newspapers, religious or otherwise,
appealing to the masses on points

which men of education and
special knowledge only can understand,

do more harm than any political
demagogues. I wish I could send

you about twenty persons, both
lay and clergy, to work for ten years

as missionaries with you, and I
feel certain that after the removal of

the leaders, the Church would
have peace again. But enough of this,

for I want to have some space for
linguistics. The skeleton grammars

you sent me are very valuable,
and it is most desirable that all you

can write down should be printed.
Of course, if the grammatical

forms could be more systematized
it would be better, but at the same

time there is danger in
systematizing ; and I consider that the most

important point which, in the
study of languages, can be settled by

such languages as yours, and by
such only, is the original want of

system, the influence of the
individual, the family, and the class, in

the formation and tradition of
speech. The natural state of language

is unbounded dialectic variety,
but of course in all literary languages

that phase is lost to us beyond
the hope of recovery. Your own

missionary work, the repeating of
certain prayers, &c., will artificially

arrest the dialectic variety of
the native language. I suppose few of

your Melanesian friends recollect
more than their grandfathers, and

therefore it is not likely they
should be conscious of changes in their

language. But the great variety
of local dialects are the best witnesses

as to the changeableness of language,
and though it would hardly be

worth your while to note such
things, small peculiarities in the speech

of certain families or
settlements might throw much light on the

process, the most mysterious
process, how language changes. This

is the great problem on which, in
the end, will depend the decision in

favour of one or many beginnings
of human speech. Literary languages

do entirely mislead us, and have
misled nearly all scholars on that

point. Savage languages alone can
show how far languages can

change. It would be very
important, too, to make observations as to

the number of words sufficient
for answering all the purposes of a low

civilization. How many words does
a Melanesian know or use ? How

many of them convey to him an
etymological meaning, i. e. are

intelligible to him in their
radical intention ? Does he use different

names for the same thing, or does
he call two things by the same

name? A language of i,ooo words
is more easily changed than

304 Last Visit to Ray Lodge
[ch. xiv

a language of 10,000. Out of
two synonymes, one is sure to be lost in time, whereas the inconvenience
arising from two things being called by the same name is sure to lead to an
independent coining of new words, I send you, through Mr. Codrington, a book by
Mr. Tylor on A7icienl Civilizaiion, with a review of mine. It will show you how
valuable accurate and trustworthy observations of the habits of savages are for
many important inquiries, and it may perhaps induce you to put down in writing
the results of your own observations among the ancient strata of mankind
cropping out in your islands. I wish I
had more time for that kind of work, but I must for the next three or four
years give all my time to the finishing of my edition of the jRig-veda, the
work which originally brought me to England, and which, when finished, will set
me free.

‘ We are hard at work
canvassing for Gladstone. I believe he will be returned, and I believe his
place would never be contested, if it were not for twenty or thirty idle agitators.’

Early in June the vi^hole
family moved to Ray Lodge for their last visit, and stayed there nearly three
months, during which time there vv^as a constant succession of family visitors,
all wishing to see the last of the house that had been made so pleasant to all
members of the large circle of relations. The Walronds were also there with
their four children, and the summer months flew by all too fast to the two
young wives in the home of their happy childhood and youth. The river was a
constant pleasure. Max Miiller becoming an expert oarsman, and many were the
hours he spent with his wife on the river, under the shadow of the Taplow and
Cliveden woods. One long delightful day was spent in a picnic at Medmenham
Abbey, with the choir from Bray Church, in which his father-in-law, who had
himself a very fine voice, had always taken a keen interest, and the old ruins
echoed to many a beautiful glee and chorus. The loved Vicar of Bray drove over
with his wife and daughters in the afternoon, in time to come down the river on
the barge that held the large party, and, among other singers, Max Miiller was
persuaded to sing ‘ O Tannenbaum,’ the song that nearly twenty years earlier
had amused his friends in ‘ Billy Russell’s’ rooms in the Temple, with its imitation
of various musical instruments, and which, if report speaks true, was a delight
to the ‘ Monks of All Souls ‘ at their Gaudys for many years.

1865] Messrs. Longmans 305

Drives, too, were taken through
Hedsor, Dropmore, the Burnham Beeches, and Windsor Park, and all the other
favourite haunts of bygone years. But a sense of regret underlay everything,
and Max Muller in his letters of that summer to his mother constantly laments
the loss to his children of the grandfather’s house and gardens.

Throughout this year there was
a frequent exchange of letters with Messrs. Longmans, Max Muller arranging for
his friend. Professor Benfey, the publication in England of his Sanskrit
Grammar, as one of the series of handbooks for Sanskrit which Max Muller was intending
to publish. With the thoroughness that he carried into all his work, he made
himself master of the details of printing, binding, and publishing, the cost of
ink and paper, the proper charges for corrections and advertisements, and he
used laughingly to say that the highest compliment he ever received was what
Mr. William Longman, half in admiration and half provoked, said of him to Mr.
Froude, ‘ As to your friend Max Muller, he can skin the flints in Paternoster
Row!’ A second edition of Volume II of the Lectures came out this year, and the
fifth edition of Volume I.

From Professor Huxley.

Museum of Geology, Jermyn Street,

June 15, 1865.

‘My dear Sir, — I beg your
acceptance of the numbers of the Fortnightly Review containing my article on
Ethnology, which accom- panies this note.

‘ I lost no time on Monday in
referring to Christianity and 3fankind, and the perusal of your chapter on “
Ethnology v. Phonology “ leads me profoundly to regret that I had not been able
to avail myself of the aid of so powerful an ally.

‘ But if you will continue to
pull one way, and I the other, I have hopes we shall be able to get Ethnology
and Phonology apart in time. Ever, my dear Sir, very faithfully yours, ‘ T.
Huxley.’

To Professor Huxley.

Civil Service Commission, y««^
i6, 1865.

‘ I\Iy dear Sir, — Accept my
best thanks for your article on Ethnology in the Fortnightly Review. I shall
read it carefully next week, when this examination for the Indian Civil Service
is over.

I X

3o6 Queen of Holland [ch. xiv

I have 130 candidates to
examine in Sanskrit; and six hours of viva voce a day acts Hke an extinguisher
on my reasoning faculties.

I hope, however, I shall soon
recover, and shall truly rejoice if, after

your powerful pleading, Sir
Creswell Creswell will grant a divorce to

Ethnology and Phonology, two
parties that ought never to have been

joined together, and whose union
has certainly been the cause of

a succession of scientific
mishaps. Believe me, yours very truly,

‘ Max Muller.’

To Edward Tylor, Esq.

Ray ‘Lodq-e, June 23.

·
I am glad to hear you are going to write an
article on Wilhelm von Humboldt. Steinthal has made Humboldt far more
unintelligible than he is. Humboldt is much more of a poet or seer than an
exact philosopher. To attempt to make him what he is not, as Steinthal has
done, destroys what he really is. But I confess, to give a faithful, clear, and
consistent account of Humboldt’s various and sometimes diverging views of
language is by no means an easy task, and I am glad you have undertaken it. I
was very sorry to have missed you when you were at Oxford. I am still deep in
examination papers for the Indian Civil Service. Yours very truly.’

To HIS Mother.

Translation. Ray Lobg’e, /tily
16.

‘ I was lately invited to a
luncheon in London to which the Queen of Holland had asked various people she
wished to know — Professor Owen, Tennyson, Grote the historian, Lord Houghton,
formerly Monckton Milnes and also a poet, the Editor of the Times, and my
unworthy self. The Queen is very friendly, and very highly educated. She is a daughter of the old King of
Wurtemburg, and we talked German together, though she speaks English and French
fluently. My second volume of Lectures
goes off very well, 2,200 copies sold in one year. It is stereotyped in
America, and translated into French and Italian. Bottiger gets on slowly [with
the German translation] and is not a good translator, but that can’t be helped
now.’

It vi^as in this summer that
Mr. Gladstone stood for the last time for election as a University burgess, and
was rejected.

The Max MUllers were staying at
Claydon House, and from

there Max came in to Oxford to
record his vote. On his

return that evening he brought
word of the mishap to the

statue of King James over the
gateway into the Schools

quad. Originally the statue had
held a sceptre in the right

1865] Gladstone s Defeat at
Oxford 307

hand, and a Bible in the left.
The tradition in Oxford had always been that the sceptre fell out of James’s
hand, and was smashed on the pavement, on the day that William III landed at
Torbay. Certain it is that, as the voters poured out of the Theatre, the Bible
was lying in pieces on the pavement, and was seen by all voters who crossed the
Schools quad, coming out of the Theatre. Max Miiller was of this number, on his
way to his house in High Street. Of course it was considered of great
significance by Mr. Gladstone’s supporters. Lord Houghton was one of the party
at Claydon, and read aloud of an evening Swinburne’s Atalanta in Calydon, which
had not long appeared.

To THE Dean of Westminster.

Ray Lodge, July 19.

‘ My dear Stanley, — I was in
town yesterday and called at the Deanery ; but as I was told you had a bad
headache, I did not like to send up my card. When I returned in the evening I
found your letter. I shall go to Oxford to-day and be at the station at
3.55. It will be a real pleasure to show
Oxford to the Queen of Holland. I liked
very much what I saw of her at your house. The only people worth knowing in the
world are those who, instead of being Deans or Bishops or Archbishops, &c.,
are themselves, or try to be, and are proud to be themselves. She hides her
crown most gracefully — and crowns, I suppose, are more difficult to hide than
mitres, coronets, &c.

‘ Gladstone is rejected by
Oxford, and I grieve to see meanness, narrowness, intolerance, and conceit
triumphant once more. I sup- pose it is right to subscribe to the Bishop of
Natal’s Fund ; I promised to do so, though I cannot subscribe much. I do not
think that he understands the language of ancient history — it is a language
full of irregularities, and to try to eliminate them all is like eliminating
the irregular verbs in Greek. But though I differ from him and his school, I
cannot bear to see honest inquiry squashed by the clamour of Demetrius and his
craftsmen, and the attempt to starve a man into silence or submission is a
discovery which will be a disgrace to the nineteenth century. Ever yours, * Max
Muller.’

To E. A. Freeman, Esq.

Ray Lodge, A ugust 1 2 .

‘ My dear Freeman, — Could you
find time to send me one line if

you know any book in English on
the English Tell saga ? I have

got the Swiss books, but I want
to know the history of the English

tale of Adam Bell, Clym of the
Clough, and William of Cloudesley.

X :j

3o8 ‘Foolish Letter’s’ [ch, xiv

I think with you that the myth
of Tell or Agamemnon makes the existence of a real Agamemnon probable, but what
can the historian do with such probable heroes ? ‘

Max MUller was singularly
scrupulous as to inflicting inquiries on his friends, as he suffered himself
from letters from all parts of the world, on every imaginable subject. He was most careful to answer all genuine
inquiries, but when asked by one lady if football was played in England before
the emigration of the Britons (whatever that meant), and by another where to
get her horoscope cast, by one gentleman how to find the origin of his name
Jones, by another why in learning German he might not say der but das Pferd,
and by an hotel-keeper how to pronounce the word ‘ schedule,’ and whether the
term revoke or renege should be used at cards, as two gentlemen had laid heavy
wagers on these points, he did not feel called on to waste his time in answers.
He had a book in which these and other equally foolish letters were pasted, and
in which he kept the most amusing of the envelopes addressed to him in every
imagin- able style.

Among the best of these
envelopes are : —

‘ To the most celebrated and
honoured Max Miiller.*

‘ M. le Directeur, Universite
des Langues, Angleterre,’ came straight to him.

‘ Professor Max Mliller, Editor
of the Works of the East Indies, General Post Office, London.’

‘ Max Miiller, Ancient
Professor of University, England.’

‘ Mr. Rev. Max Mullen’

‘ Master Max MuUer.’

‘ To very honourable Knight Max
Miiller,’

‘S”^ Magnificenz Mr. Max
Muller, Rector of the University.’

‘ The Venerable Professor Max
Mliller.’

·
Pundit Max Mullen’

‘ Mn Max, Oxford.’

‘ To the great Linguist Max
Miiller.’

‘ To Father Max Mullen’

‘ The most noblest of the noble,
Great Oriental Savant,

F. Max Mullen’

‘ To the Head authority on
Language, Oxford.’

1865] ‘ Mabel and Ellen ‘ 309

But there was one letter which
he was fond of showiner though he never knew who were the writers : —

To Professor Max Mijller.

March lo.

‘ Sir, — We are a couple of
rather wild English girls, who have been trying all our lives to learn
something and have not yet succeeded. We
have become somewhat dissatisfied lately with our failures, and have made up
our minds to master some wonderful language that few girls (or even men) would
know. We intended to “ go in “ for Arabic, but every one says that we should
never get over even the alphabet. To
take only one or two you mention in your lectures, Persian and Sanskrit are as
difficult as Arabic. Zend no one has ever heard of Prakrit we cannot get the
necessary materials for. What are we to do ? Every one seems to think we are
too fastidious, but all we want is to get hold of an unusual language that is
not quite beyond our capabilities. We have at length made up our mind to try
and get out of our difficulties by applying to head quarters, and trouble you
with our inquiries. We enclose a directed envelope in order to take up as
little of your valuable time as possible. We are, yours respectfully, ‘ Mabel
and Ellen.’

The address given was ‘ Holly,
Post Office, Kiln Green, Twyford.’

To this the following answer
was sent : —

‘ Dear Miss Mabel and IMiss Ellen, — It is by no means
easy to reply to your inquiry. To take up any work in good earnest is a most
excellent thing, and I should be the last person to find fault with anybody for
fixing on learning a language, even for the mere sake of learning something.
Yet it is right that our work should have some useful object beyond the mere
pleasure of working. Thus in selecting a language we might look at three
ulterior objects — literature, travel, or science of language. Now, as I have
no reason to suppose that you want to learn a language that might be useful to
you in travelling, or that might furnish promising material for scientific
analysis, I will take it for granted that literature would form an object of
interest to you in the choice of a language. As it is to be a language which
few people in England
are likely to know, I should say take Portuguese, if you like Romance, or take
Swedish, if you like Teutonic languages. The books for learning these languages
are easily procured, and there is a literature both in Swedish and Portuguese
very little known in this country, and well deserving the .

3IO Leaving Ray Lodge [ch. xiv

interest
of two young ladies. But I am afraid you will consider both Portuguese and
Swedish as flxr too commonplace. Well, in that case, take Siamese. You will
have some difficulty in getting grammars and dictionaries, yet, if you are in
earnest and apply to Messrs. Williams
and Norgate, 14, Henrietta Street,
Covent Garden, you will with some little
trouble and expense get what you want. There is not a single man in Europe, I believe, who knows Siamese. The French, however,
are opening the country, and some of their agents and missionaries have begun
to study the language. The alphabet is troublesome, the grammar itself seems
easy. There is a vast literature, as yet

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