of the Orientals, which is so different from that of Europeans or
their language. How hard are the metaphors of the Bible for this
reason!'

There is something in all these long apologies and strenuous desire
for secrecy about these Arabic studies that reminds one that the
character was a self-conscious introspective one, always striving for
humility, and dreading to be thought presumptuous. A simpler nature,
if devoid of craving for home sympathy, would never have mentioned
the new study at all; or if equally open-hearted, would have let the
mention of it among home friends take its chance, without troubling
himself as to their possible comments. Indeed, it is curious to
observe how elaborate he was at this period about all his concerns,
meditating over the cause of whatever affected him. It was a form of
growth; and dropped off when the time of action arrived, and his
character had shaped itself. It must be remembered, too, that his
habit of pouring out all his reflections and feelings to his sisters,
and their preservation of his letters, have left much more on record
of these personal speculations than is common.

His father made a much simpler matter of the Arabic matter, in the
following characteristic letter:--


'Feniton Court: September 14, 1852,

'My dearest Coley,--So far from thinking you wrong in learning
Arabic, I feel sure that you are quite right. However, we shall keep
your secret, and not say anything about it. I am heartily glad that
you should acquire languages, modern as well as ancient. You know I