the outward happiness of that time, and which shows him
to us as but one eye could then have seen him. A few weeks after his
marriage he writes in his journal:--

"Eternal, omnipresent God! enlighten me with thy Holy Spirit, and
fill me with thy heavenly light! What in childhood I felt and
yearned after, what throughout the years of youth grew clearer and
clearer before my soul, I will now venture to hold fast, to
examine, to represent the revelation of Thee in man's energies and
efforts: thy firm path through the stream of ages I long to trace
and recognize, as far as may be permitted to me even in this body
of earth. The song of praise to Thee from the whole of humanity,
in times far and near,--the pains and lamentations of men, and
their consolations in Thee,--I wish to take in, clear and
unhindered. Do Thou send me thy Spirit of Truth, that I may behold
things earthly as they are, without veil and without mask, without
human trappings and empty adornment, and that in the silent peace
of truth I may feel and recognize Thee. Let me not falter, nor
slide away from the great end of knowing Thee. Let not the joys,
or honors, or vanities of the world enfeeble and darken my spirit;
let me ever feel that I can only perceive and know Thee in so far
as mine is a living soul, and lives, and moves, and has its being
in Thee."

Here we see Bunsen as the world did not see him, and we may observe how
then, as ever, his literary work was to him hallowed by the objects for
which it was intended. "The firm path of God through the stream of ages"
is but another title for one of his last works, "God in History," planned
with such youthful ardor, and finished under the lengthening shadow of
death.

The happiness of Bunsen's life at Rome may easily be imagined. Though
anxious to begin his work at a German university, he stipulated for three
more years of freedom and preparation. Who could have made the sacrifice
of the bright spring of life, of the unclouded days of happiness at Rome
with wife and children, and with such friends as Niebuhr and Brandis? Yet
this stay at Rome was fraught with fatal consequences. It led the straight
current of Bunsen's life, which lay so clear before him, into a new bed,
at first very tempting, for a time smooth and sunny, but alas! ending in
waste of energy for which no outward splendor could atone. The first false
step see