he advice founded
on the experience of his life. This, however, was not to be, and all who
watched him with loving eyes knew but too well that it could not be. The
last chapter of his life is painful beyond expression as a chronicle of
his bodily sufferings, but it is cheerful also beyond expression as the
record of a triumph over death in hope, in faith,--nay, one might almost
say, in sight,--such as has seldom been witnessed by human eyes. He died on
the 28th of November, 1860, and was buried on the 1st of December in the
same churchyard at Bonn where rests the body of his friend and teacher,
Niebuhr.

Thoughts crowd in thick upon us when we gaze at that monument, and feel
again the presence of that spirit as we so often felt it in the hours of
sweet counsel. When we think of the literary works in which, later in life
and almost in the presence of death, he hurriedly gathered up the results
of his studies and meditations, we feel, as he felt himself when only
twenty-two years of age, that "learning annihilates itself, and the most
perfect is the first submerged, for the next age scales with ease the
height which cost the preceding the full vigor of life." It has been so,
and always will be so. Bunsen's work, particularly in Egyptian philology
and in the philosophy of language, was to a great extent the work of a
pioneer, and it will be easy for others to advance on the roads which he
has opened, and to approach nearer to the goal which he has pointed out.
Some of his works, however, will hold their place in the history of
scholarship, and particularly of theological scholarship. The question of
the genuineness of the original Epistles of Ignatius can hardly be opened
again after Bunsen's treatise; and his discovery that the book on "All the
Heresies," ascribed to Origen, could not be the work of that writer, and
that most probably it was the work of Hippolytus, will always mark an
epoch in the study of early Christian literature. Either of those works
would have been enough to make the reputation of a German professor, or to
found the fortune of an English bishop. Let it be remembered that they
were the outcome of the leisure hours of a hard-worked Prussian
diplomatist, who, during the London season, could get up at five in the
morning, light his own fire, and thus secure four hours of undisturbed
work before breakfast.

Another reason why some of Bunsen's works will prove more mortal than
others is their comprehensi