minished the inducement to
_vicious_ indulgence. God knows there is enough of sin and of sorrow in
the world to make sad the heart of every Christian man. No one, I think,
need be ashamed of his endeavours to cheer the darker hours of his
fellow-travellers' steps through life, or to beguile the hearts of the
weary and the heavy laden, if only for a time, into cheerful and amusing
trains of thought. So far as my experience of life goes, I have never
found that the cause of morality and religion was promoted by sternly
checking the tendencies of our nature to relaxation and amusement. If
mankind be too ready to enter upon pleasures which are dangerous or
questionable, it is the part of wisdom and of prudence to supply them
with sources of interest, the enjoyment of which are innocent and
permissible."

APPENDIX.

* * * * *

When this Memoir was only begun I was anxious to say something of the
Dean's musical powers; and, not venturing to speak of music myself, I
asked the Dean's sister Lady Burnett to supply my deficiency. In reply I
had the following letter:--

22d February 1873.

... As a flute-player the Dean attained a proficiency rarely
seen in an amateur, and used frequently to play the very
difficult flute-obligatos of some of Handel's songs, which
are considered a hard task even for professionals. Besides
playing the flute he was thoroughly conversant with the
mechanism of the organ, and had some knowledge of the
violoncello, though he never gave much time to the study of
that instrument. But perhaps the most interesting point in
this part of the character of my brother was his ardent love
for Handel's music. There was not a song or chorus of the
great master that he was not acquainted with, and in his
younger days he used to sing the bass music from the Messiah
and other Oratorios with great taste and skill--his voice, a
fine mellow baritone, being well suited to these songs. You
may remember his lectures on Handel delivered at the
Philosophical Institution some years ago, and how
enthusiastic he was when describing the manifold beauties of
his favourite composer, and how interested and eager he
became when the choir sang the music he knew and loved
so well....

I wrote this on Saturday evening when sitting alone,
thinking of the great loss I had sustained;