the world at large, a man's outward
life; there is a second life which is seen by a man's most intimate
friends, his household life; and there is a third life, seen only by the
man himself and by Him who searcheth the heart, which maybe called the
inner or heavenly life. Most biographers are and must be satisfied with
giving the two former aspects of their hero's life,--the version of the
world, and that of his friends. Both are important, both contain some
truth, though neither of them the whole truth. But there is a third life,
a life led in communion with God, a life of aspiration rather than of
fulfillment,--that life which we see, for instance, in St. Paul, when he
says, "The good that I would, I do not; but the evil which I would not,
that I do." It is but seldom that we catch a glimpse of those deep springs
of human character which cannot rise to the surface even in the most
confidential intercourse, which in every-day life are hidden from a man's
own sight, but which break forth when he is alone with his God in secret
prayer,--aye, in prayers without words. Here lies the charm of Bunsen's
life. Not only do we see the man, the father, the husband, the brother,
that stands behind the ambassador, but we see behind the man his angel
beholding the face of his Father which is in heaven. His prayers, poured
forth in the critical moments of his life, have been preserved to us, and
they show us what the world ought to know, that our greatest men can also
be our best men, and that freedom of thought is not incompatible with
sincere religion. Those who knew Bunsen well, know how that deep,
religious undercurrent of his soul was constantly bubbling up and breaking
forth in his conversations, startling even the mere worldling by an
earnestness that frightened away every smile. It was said of him that he
could drive out devils, and he certainly could, with his solemn, yet
loving voice, soften hearts that would yield to no other appeal, and see
with one look through that mask which man wears but too often in the
masquerade of the world. Hence his numerous and enduring friendships, of
which these volumes contain so many sacred relics. Hence that confidence
reposed in him by men and women who had once been brought in contact with
him. To those who can see with their eyes only, and not with their hearts,
it may seem strange that Sir Robert Peel, shortly before his death, should
have uttered the name of Bunsen. To those who know tha