My dear Sir, Dropmore, Dec. 23, 1814. Though I had no doubt of the result of the election at Oriel, yet it gives me the greatest pleasure to learn that it has passed in a manner so gratifying to yourself and so honourable to the electors, who have conferred a great benefit on the college and on the university, both in the thing itself and the manner of doing it. I am well aware that we must not hope to see you here or in town just now; I shall be truly happy to express to you in person the congratulations of one, who yields to none of your friends in the pleasure he feels on this occasion. My dear Provost, I am, most truly yours, Seymour Street, Bath, Dec. 25, 1814. I congratulate you on having Oriel, and Oriel on having you; and both especially on the manner in which this good event has been effected, as I learn by a few hasty lines from Tyler, whose worthy heart seems to have trickled through his pen as he wrote. The Christian unity of your society I have ever considered with delight, and I trust with edification not less than that which I could not fail to derive from the conversation of those, whom I felt to be my superiors in every endowment and acquirement. I rejoice that the occasion is afforded to you of continuing to foster that harmony which has been manifested in the late acclamation superseding election. With sincere prayers for your long continued enjoyment of the love of your society, and for the prosperity of the society under your auspices, Believe me, Your obliged and sincere friend, Dr. Copleston had been a householder somewhat more than a year, when he expressed the following 68 CELIBACY AND MARRIAGE. sentiments upon a subject which we might have conjectured would be present to his mind. He is writing to his friend, the Rev. W. N. Darnell, an old fellow collegian at C.C.C., after a severe illness, and having just parted with his sisters, who had come up from Devonshire to nurse him. Oriel College, June 2, 1815. Let me not, with contemplation of my own solitude, forget to congratulate you on the happiness which you are about to derive from a different state of life, and which, from the anticipation of that state, must already have begun..... Whether I am ever destined to enjoy a similar blessing I know not, but I feel most sensibly the truth of that saying, which proceeded from more than human wisdom, 'It is not good for man to be alone.' Celibacy is tolerable to a man who lives in society, but it is a dismal state for a householder; and it requires both better health and a stronger mind than I can boast to support it cheerfully. If ever I am so happy as to change it for a married state, you shall certainly hear from me before it takes place, for I am sure you will not be indifferent to the interests of an old friend. It is kind of you to send me such flattering testimony to the success of my professional labours. The prælections have drawn more notice, and been more commended, than I had any reason to expect. This is a sufficient compensation for the labour and anxiety of mind which the composition of them cost me. my spirits would now be unequal to the same task-glad, I am sure that therefore, am I that I have no such duty now before me. God grant that I may have strength and spirits for those which belong to my station! Ever, my dear friend, Most sincerely yours, E. C. In 1816 Dr. Copleston renewed his visit to the Continent, in company with two Oxford friends, whose names are associated with all that is benevolent and pleasing, J. and P. Duncan, fellows of N. C. In the scheme of this tour was included Holland, the Rhine, and the choicest parts of Switzerland. Not delaying the reader with any particular account of their route, I proceed at once to present him with some extracts from letters written at different points, the first point being Brussels, and the date of the letter July 24, 1816. 'One of the most striking sights on this road (till we turned out of France) was parties of English soldiers quartered in the villages, and passing in small bodies along the road-a mortifying spectacle to French vanity-and one which I conceive they will never forget or forgive. It is, however, a nation that must be kept down, not conciliated. Our soldiers are said to be very quiet and orderly. We arrived at Brussels last night, and found barely room for us at the Hotel de Bellevue. I did not expect such high ground in this neighbourhood. We are at the upper part of the town, and the ascent is nearly as steep as the streets in Bath. This quarter is handsome, and even magnificent; most of the English families (and there are not a few) live here. To-morrow I mean to call on Mr. and Mrs. N. T―, but this day has been devoted to an object of the most powerful interest-the field of Waterloo. The two Duncans had seen it last year, and Philip D. did not wish to repeat the visit. Accordingly, John D. and myself set out about nine o'clock with Michel, our French servant, in a caleche, having provided ourselves with the proper books and map. If you have read Paul's Letters, or Southey's Pilgrimage, you will not want a detailed description of the way or of the place. The way is the great road to Namur and Charleroi. After a mile or two we entered the great forest of Soignies, the most complete forest I ever saw. At first there are open spaces, and occasional houses and villages by the road side, backed by the forest, but at length nothing besides the thick, tall, slender trees are to be seen,-so thick, that the eye cannot penetrate above two hundred yards from the road, and not a ray of sunshine can pierce the foliage above. For five miles this scene continues very dismal and tiresome-no grass, no underwood, only tall stems, mostly beech, and almost all young, at least not come to their prime, and yet we only cross this forest; the length is, I believe, in the other direction, extended to fifteen miles. You may easily conceive what a strong de-. fence this was in the rear of our position; and I think a less general than Lord Wellington might have said, as he did, that even had the battle been lost, our army would only have fallen back on the forest, and waited till the Prussians joined in force. It is a complete rampart to Brussels, on the side of Namur. All the villagers in front took refuge here with their cattle, and lost nothing. Emerging from this forest we instantly arrived at the village of Waterloo; about a mile further on is the village of Mont St. Jean. We took up as our guide the well-known Lacoste, who now lives at Waterloo, having left his little farm of twenty-five acres close to La Belle Alliance, and who makes a good profit at present of his employment as a guide. To do him justice, I must say that his explanation is very distinct and satisfactory-no gasconade-no attempts to exaggerate or excite wonder, none to please or flatter the English-at the same time he was very intent upon describing exactly the several positions, and the course of events through the day. You know he was kept close to Buonaparte, but he denied having been ill-treated or con fined, or tied by the arm, as has been said. After the retreat began, his bridle was fastened by a string to the saddle of an aide-de-camp, but he had no ill treatment whatever. Our first visit was to the farm of Hougoumont; the greater part still in ruins. I was in hopes something might turn up amidst the heaps of brick, and stones, and halfburnt timber over which we strayed, but I found nothing except musket bullets stuck in the timbers and trees of the garden, and was obliged to content myself with purchasing a few relics, which are to be had in abundance of various kinds. Fragments of hats and shoes are still scattered about in odd corners; and after leaving this spot, and crossing the field to La Belle Alliance on a piece of fallow land, I had the luck to find a grape-shot. The weather was very favourable, and we spent three hours or more in traversing the ground at our leisure. The battle was undoubtedly one of the most concentrated ever known in history. After all I had heard, the space was even less than I could have imagined; not one mile and a-half, I conceive, between any two of the memorable points. Michel, who has served two or three campaigns, and, like all the French, seems to have a kind of military genius, was very amusing;—his comments and criticisms on Buonaparte's tactics were by no means amiss. I often observed him in eager conversation with Lacoste, after he had collected an idea of the battle, (for he seems never to have read anything about it,) and condemning, with the most animated gestures, parts of Buonaparte's plan, particularly his leaving seven leagues of open country in his own rear, over which his army could be pursued if beaten, whereas Lord Wellington would fall back immediately on the forest under a similar disaster. This man has been extremely useful to us. He is a most goodhumoured, active, attentive fellow-a genuine cosmopolite, just as happy, he says, in one country as in another, and at home everywhere. Ever your affectionate brother, 'E. COPLESTON.' |